The Silver Fox Brigade

You see us everywhere, though you may not notice us, as we infiltrate every crevice of society.

We are the Silver Foxes.

We don’t break any laws but we are sneaky and a tad perverse, committed to getting as much of your free time and skills as possible when we need them.

The innocent refer to us as “retirees,” and it is supposed we sit happily by the warm seashore glugging down our gruel.

In reality we hang on to our houses as long as we possibly can and we do lean, heavily at times, on the good nature of our kids to help us with mechanical problems that crop up.

When I invite my son over to dinner, he automatically asks, “What tools should I bring?”

Busted.

Yeah, it would be nice to hire a handyman, and I don’t question they’re worth almost what they charge, but generally we can’t afford one of those, so back to the kids.

It helps if you’re cute and perky and people think you’re just so wonderful to maintain that house and play bridge like a wild woman, and keep active. But I’m not cute and perky. Taller and opinionated comes to mind and it’s rather late to change that. I do play decent bridge though.

In exchange for help, I generally toss in a good meal and there are other reciprocations. For instance I will take the grandkids for overnighters and feed the animals and pick up and deliver human cargo after games and practices when necessary.

We can be exasperating but remember this—someday you’ll take on the membership, so earn your brownie points in advance.

A successful Silver Fox fights hard to keep the brain cells active, and right now, mine are in overdrive while I calculte how to achieve the goal of getting the on-strike toilet fixed without permanently alienating near and dear.

Fight on, Foxes.