Skipping a Generation: Oops!

Drove 100 miles to see 2 of my grandchildren. An 11 year old seemed surprised that I was pretty familiar with lyrics of a bunch of Broadway shows. She, her older brother, their suspicious dog rescued from the Caiman Islands ("what's a grandfather, anyway" -- Hey, Dog, this Grandpa wouldn't mind being rescued TO the Caimans!) and I sat on the kitchen floor and sang tunes from Oklahoma, My Fair Lady, the King and I, and others; the Caiman Island Dog was unfamiliar with these songs and -- for that matter -- was not a howler. I prefer howling dogs and maybe that has something to do with GuntherDog being uncomfortable with me. Any case, the four of us (the Older Brother wasn't as keen about singing on the kitchen floor or, as I was later to find out, singing while walking in the street.) First Quarter types are not infrequently prone to experiencing shame on their own, nevermind with Grandpa singing a song based on the last lines of Malachi. Alas.

We had lunch together in a place teeming with cute kids and their parents. I don't tend to sing in restaurants ... even Fourth Quarter types have their limits. After lunch, M and I drove the 100 miles back with the top down. Old Man in Roadster trying to slather SPF 50 onto his bare scalp! ... not a totally pretty picture.

Got home early ... not much after 3:00 and visited two other Grandchildren and a bit later went bike riding with them and their Dad. I puzzled a bit realizing that the combined age of the kids (twins make this an easy calculation) was just one third of my age. I asked them how that worked: one responded:

It's Algebra ... just elementary Algebra.

"Not funny," I quipped. I remember those silly puzzles from when I was their age; and they all kinda sounded like:

If Mortimer has 14 coins in his pocket.

Half as many Quarters as Dimes.

Twice as many Dimes as Nickels.

How old was Dick when he ran off with Jane's Half-Sister?

I remember my Algebra teacher; she taught me Latin, as well. We called her Heavy Hips Ronallo. How crass young boys are! (And how crass GrandDaddy is to remember.) I was a strange kid. Immersed in my first serious Mathematics book: Geometric Inequalities by Nicholas Kazarinoff. Years later and for some reason, Nick and I didn't get on real well. But that's another story about when Nick, Chair of a Math Department, then, attacked me at a cocktail party. Back to Mrs. Ronallo. I wasn't particularly interested in her silly puzzles and just plain refused to do them. She called my parents in to tell them that I would never learn Algebra. When I was 19, I brought a copy of a first Graduate Degree in Mathematics to her.

Well this proves nothing!

Suppose that's so but I did get a Cheap Thrill out of putting it under her critical eyes. So, I'm riding with the twins -- complete human beings with their own myth, movies and moods. Absolutely loving it ... on my 1974 Raleigh International ... pedaling away with K&E and wondering what it means to be three times the combined age of these two girls who seem to have it all.

The Sun was bright ... the air just-so ... riding in a place where only the rare car came by. I was repeatedly singing my bike song from Psalms:

How your Creations, Oh, God have grown!

Great is the depth of your thoughts.

... and downright confusing, if I might add, that the sum of my 6 Granspawns' ages is not much less than mine. How CAN that be?!

                     And anyhow! 
                               How old WAS Dick when he ran off with Jane's Half-Sister?