That description doesn’t mean I’m a distant Kardashian cousin. It’s the scientific term for someone who has been hanging around this planet for 90 years.
For the past five years, I’ve hiked daily along one of the most famous U.S. streets, Santa Monica Boulevard, AKA Route 66, in West Hollywood. I encounter all kinds of people. Most ignore me, while others have become familiar faces. Local supermarket workers, joggers, dog walkers, street repair crews, dumpster divers, homeless wanderers and many others.
One of the benefits of my daily walks is an occasional conversation with people I encounter. The homeless man who too often asks this life-long non-smoker for a spare cigaratte. The clerk who steps outside the store for some fresh air. The retiree in an old Army jacket who stops me when I’m wearing my old Navy CPO hat, to spend a few minutes swapping war stories.
The ragged orator who occupies the same sidewalk bench daily, often rising to gesture and declaim to an imaginary audience somewhere out there above Santa Monica Boulevard. With all that interesting activity happening along my route, this nonagenarian doesn’t need to vegetate at home staring at endless TV commercials.
While on my daily hikes, I carry a digital camera to record the many scenes I witness along the way. About once a month, I compose and post a photo page of them for this site. Here’s my latest.