For once, he may have not been the oldest man in the room.
When I was preparing to sit down with soon-to-be 100-year-old Donald Taylor, I was told that it might be nice if I took a familiar face with me when I went over to his farmhouse in Wadhams.
So, on that suggestion, I took the oldest guy I know(at least, until then) - my grandfather, Lawrence Bliss.
It was quite the experience to listen to Gramp and Don sit and talk. I would ask a question, Don would answer it, and the two of them would recount the days of their youth growing up in the area and everything that happened here.
Their stories were not that different, even though Don does have an eight-year jump on my grandfather (Don is 100 Saturday, Gramp is 92 in October). They talked a lot about the dances that used to be held at the Wadhams Grange Hall; the music, which was often played by Taylor and others; the price of things, as Don explained that he remembered going to get four gallons of gas and paying one dollar for it (there's a 180 for you); and other things.
Both men also lit up when it came to the topic of hunting. Both live for the woods, and both have bagged their fair share of game. But my grandfather almost cried when he saw the two racks - 13- and eight-point - that Taylor brought out, by hand, to display. I think they almost made him jealous.
When we left, though, there was a small spikehorn rack.
"That's more my style," my grandfather joked.
Speaking of people named Lawrence Bliss, an interview I did this week also reminded me of a night I spent with my uncle at Airborne Raceway.
He came one night when I was in my early teens and picked me up at my grandparents, but I didn't know why.