American Legion. Fun.

I've been going to the American Legion in Hamburg, NY a lot lately. I like it there. The people are nice, drinks are cheap, and they have Patsy Cline on the juke box. Keep in mind, please, that most of the people are also quite old. I like old people.

Sometimes, I'll be sitting there nursing my Seagram's 7 and a "new" person will approach me. They always do so in a "who is this young whipper-snapper" way. I don't mind. Inevitably, some "fella" a few barstools down will say, "That's Demerly's kid." Now...hahaha, I know that they're thinking of my Grandfather. They think I'm my Dad. They'll ask me my name and I'm immediately welcomed into their clique. After a while, I'll politely correct them and tell them that I'm Bryan's son Bryan's son. You catch my drift?

Oh...and sometimes they get me confused with the funeral home people in town. Then that's a whole 'nother story. I explain that they are second or third cousins. But then, just for my own amusement, I tell them that my Dad used to work in a funeral home in Pennsylvania (he did for many years). They'll say something along the lines of, "Yeah, that's what I said. I TOLD you that he was the funeral son's kid."

But wait!! It get's better!!

My Mother's father also frequents the joint. They call him "Kell". Just when they think they can't get more confused than they already are, I say, "You know that I'm Kell's grandson too!" By this point, they've all had about a gallon of cheap Genny and they give up on me...until I stop in the next time and, since they're CERTAIN they know me (even if they don't know how), they'll buy me a drink.

Oooh!! When my Dad comes to town, this can really be lots of fun!! I love the Legion.