We call ourselves the "Young At Hearts," and believe me, the name fits.

Faith and Bob Thorp lead our group and pick out a restaurant each month for us to meet together for lunch. They do a terrific job, and they've introduced us to eateries we would otherwise never know about.

There are a few people in the Young At Hearts who keep things moving, and I mean moving!

Don Monroe, Richard Groner and Larry Uphole have something going on all the time. You never know what they're going to do next. Now there are others who are unpredictable too, but these three lead the pack.

There was a recent movie that reminds me of them. (You can probably guess which one it is.)

Lunch before last, I was sitting next to Richard, enjoying my lunch, when he suddenly leaned over and asked me if I thought he could sing opera.

I said, "Why, heck, yeah, you can sing opera." (I didn't know if he really was going to try, but nothing would surprise me.)

He said, "Well, I'm gonna sing some opera right now."

I immediately stood up and got everyone's attention. I told them Richard was going to sing an operatic selection for our entertainment.

Everything got real quiet except for a few who yelled, "Oh no!"

Well, old "Pavarotti" stood up, hitched up his pants two or three times, took a deep breath or two and looked like he was really going to sing.

Everybody started laughing, and Richard got redder and redder.

Finally he yelled, "I'm not gonna do it. You people are making fun of me, and I don't like it. I'm not singing!"

With that, he promptly sat down amid riotous laughter, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Don't count him out though. He's biding his time.

One a recent morning, my wife, Pat, and I left to go to Shuckers for our monthly lunch. We put a few bags of trash in the trunk to drop off at the county dump. (I've been trying to conserve gas whenever I can to avoid the high prices the gas bandits are charging.)

As I was throwing trash in the bin, I heard someone across the way yelling, "Help! Help!" He kept on yelling louder and louder, and I started walking over to where the noise seemed to be coming from. There were 10 or 12 old discarded TVs nearby, and as I got closer, I saw the dump attendant squatting next to one.

He yelled that his fingers were caught. He had tried to pick up a TV and somehow got the fingers of both hands caught. A young lady nearby ran and got a screwdriver, and we were able to finally get his fingers loose. Except for a couple of bruised fingers, he was OK.

Well, we were late getting to lunch, and everyone wanted to know why.

I told them the TV story, and no one believed me. They thought I made it up and said I was as bad as Don, Richard and Larry.

I asked Pat to tell them I was telling the truth, and she said she didn't know anything about it.

Everyone was obviously enjoying my discomfort, so I sat down next to Richard and sulked.

Now do you understand why I say the "Young At Hearts" is a good name for this group?

We're all getting old, but our hearts will be forever young. Needless to say, we're having a great time together.

I've come to the conclusion that compatibility and diversity really complement one another. We have members from all over the country who speak with different accents, different backgrounds and interests, yet share common characteristics: They like being together and they are happy people.

That's why they continue to be "Young At Heart." May they ever be so.

Robey Howard is a local freelance writer.