My oldest brother, Jim, attends University of Texas men's basketball games as frequently as he can. He made an observation last year, which he shared. He said that while he's getting older each year, the cheerleaders never do.
I don't know why I thought of that a few weeks ago when we were in Austin attending my son's wedding. I think it's because he and his beautiful bride, Kelly, took a path to marriage that was less than conventional from my (stuck in time) viewpoint.
So what may look good year after year, like my alma mater's cheer team, may actually be just a product of a static viewpoint.
These days, Millennials kind of laugh at the conventions of their elders, traditions they would never consider as things people actually used to do.
For instance, when Ross and Kelly moved in together five years ago, a few of the wires in my brain frayed. I told Ross this, but he looked at me in the same way I recall looking at my grandma when she told me all her early dates were chaperoned.
But along came a remarkable miracle. Ross graduated and got a job flying big birds with an airline. Then came the most remarkable miracle — my granddaughter.
It was at that moment — and I mean at that very moment — that I instantly shed my concern for conventions.
Still, the final piece didn't come for another year and a half, and that was last week when the two of them, with their precious daughter by their sides, were married.
Why did they wait so long? They were busy.
The wedding was nothing like the ideal ceremony I had imagined for my son. It was small, outdoors and with only parents in attendance. But it wasn't my choice, it was theirs. And I loved it.
My choice now is that they live long, happy lives together with my granddaughter and her siblings (hey, this is my new wish list).
Perhaps, I think, Jim needs to get his eyes checked. Those cheerleaders do get older, and they replace them every year with younger models.
To the gentleman with the Texas plates who ripped down Log Hill and tailgated me down County Road 1, I'd like to point out that I, too, lived in Texas. And I can't for the life of me recall where in Texas that kind of driving was acceptable.
In case you're wondering, it's kind of frowned upon here, you know.
Too bad one of our county mounties wasn't around. They kind of grin like a donkey eatin' cactus when they see a pardner like you a-comin'.
Alan Todd is co-publisher of the Ouray County Plaindealer. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.