Is Gramps exhausted from potting plants, feebleminded, or just overjoyed that the woman behind him poured just the right amount of head into his glass? To me, it appears as thought the pretty colors and bubbles have him entranced. Limit yourself to one glass, okay? Remember what the doctor said about mixing Coumadin and alcohol?
Look how Rick holds that glass of Schlitz up, just of out reach for poor Joanne Woodward’s body double. Is he wearing pajamas? Why don’t her gloves match? I don’t get it. This is all very donkey and carrot to me.
I believe this depiction represents the best of both worlds, Hannah Montana. Gardening is getting done AND beer is being enjoyed. He has his own glass; she has hers. The weather is lovely. He’s pensive; is that a mortgage bill in his hand? Who cares? With argyle socks and a butterfly apron, you can never go wrong.