About being Uncle.

Many have asked why I sign off as Uncle T. I'm always tempted to take the pretentious path and crap up a cheem answer; nearly philosophical. But I usually give the honest answer, I forgot.

I do recall there was a reason for Uncle T when I decided it. I honestly can't remember why 'T' but I know why uncle. A bunch of friends often call me uncle because I liked walking about town in shorts, polo-t and loaffers, newspaper tucked under arm and my trusty umbrella in hand. And I like to sit and watch the world go by drinking kopi. So apparently all this makes me uncle. But spruce up the dressing, change the country and I would have been Parisian. But nonetheless, I've been deemed uncle.

Yet, then, I was often mistaken for at least 3 years younger than I was; I tried keeping a moustache and beard that never grows. All my efforts were futile then; I was once thought to be 16 when I was 21.

Im not sure if its the specs, the voice, the hair, the intellect (I wish) or just the tired perspectives (do I?), but now, it seems I'm mistaken for being older than I am. Someone over the weekend thought I was 28. Gasp. I honestly am unsure how to react; to be happy, sad or amused. Or perhaps nonchalance is best.

But anyhow, just something random about age. This is filling up all the gaps. These days, that's what writing does for me. Perhaps I need more than just words; I don't know. Would you know?