Overheard at Table 1: A Catapult of the Memory

He leaned back in the chair and gazed wistfully out the window at the people passing by, on foot or the occasional bicycle.   A few strands of his silver hair perked up on his temples, as though waving like long grass in a summer wind.   I waited to hear what words of wisdom would issue forth, when finally, he said,

"I thought I was suddenly losing my grip on the language but as it turns out, many people don't really know what 'trebuchet' means."