If I gave him a nickname, it would be happy. He was sitting on a decorative brick wall in front of a closed business on a sunny Saturday morning in downtown Seattle, Washington.
"Where are you from," he asked inquisitively. "I'm from the Nashville, Tennessee area," I told him. He smiled, "Nashville, I've been there."
He talked about some of his past careers under his belt and then pointed at a nearby building. "I live right over there," he told me. "The price is right, I only pay $300 per month because of my age," he happily said as he talked about his current retirement years often spent outside watching people.
“What do you call a person who is happy on a Monday? Retired.”