Still Alive at 65

Who would have thought I'd live this long.  Certainly not me. 

I usually go fishing on this date.  It's become an annual ritual.  This morning was still windy and cool, but the wind finally calmed down a little, so I went out this afternoon.  Also, part of the ritual is that I usually catch a redfish or snook.  Us old folks don't like change in our rituals, but I guess I'll just have to accept a few snappers instead of the redfish and snook. 

I see my young dude friend, Bret finally left a comment about the run-away caboose I put on my blog a little over a week ago.  I can see his train will run right on schedule.  He's in training to become a railroad locomotive engineer.  "Training"--get it?    I notice he signed his name on the comment as "bReT".  He must be trying to emulate our pal from Kentucky,  "Brown-O" bOb.  Brown-O bOb was also a locomotive engineer.  bOb always considered himself the most worthless individual on the planet--until he met me.  I met bOb while racing sailboats at Kentucky Lake.  He was crew on a J-Boat for "Bad Penny" John.  I'm not sure exactly how bReT compares to bOb, but here's how Brown-O bOb got his name.  In his younger days, bOb decided he wanted to get a tattoo of his name.  Unfortunately, by the time he drank up enough courage to get the tattoo, he'd spent almost all of his money,  so he asked the tattoo artist how many letters his remaining cash would buy.  The answer was "two--lower case."  So Brown-O bOb gave it some thought and had the guy apply a "b" to each butt cheek.