It's funny how men never exhaust the bravado that paints the armor of their male ego thick, like primer paint on the chassis of badly repaired cars, over the course of their naturally lived lives. Leaving Subway with a veggie patty on omega nine, toasted and dry, in hand, I held the door open for an elderly Woman and Her elderly husband. And with one hand on His walker and the other held high to signal me, in a soft but aggressive voice, the elderly man politely, but firmly informed me, "I got it." The wife in elderly motion (which is a speed slower than slow motion) turned Her head and with a wrinkled smile blushed as if it were 1950 something all over again and they were a newly courting couple, after he had just earned the right of going steady with Her by out manning me. It was cute and sweet. No matter how old men get the Silver Back in us will always pound its chest.
