He could collect stamps ... or press autumn leaves into a book ...

Walt is my neighbor at the end of the hall. He's retired, and he pays waaaaaaay too much attention to me. When I come in, where he sees me around the neighborhood, how much mail I get, who uses my parking space, and -- most annoying of all! -- whether I have ever given my key to any of my friends. This is a condo building, which means I own my unit, and if I want to give each of the Dallas Mavericks his own individual key, I CAN AND WILL!

Anyway, since I got home from hospital two weeks ago, I have become even more fascinating to Walt. I don't have to tell him why I'm home. I don't feel like discussing my surgery with him. It's been my experience that once you get older folks talking about doctors, you're stuck for hours. Besides, I deserve my privacy.

That's why I wish Walt would find an independent hobby to occupy that curious and clearly under-engaged mind of his.