So I say "I'm preaching in a retirement home tonight" and you think -- easy peasy, how cute, I hope the residents don't fall asleep during your sermon. The Vespers service is at 7 PM (isn't that past their bedtime?) and we have retirement-home food for dinner at 5:15. "Harvard Beets" and potatoes. When was the last time I ate dinner at 5:15? God knows.
However, Piedmont Gardens is no typical retirement home. I'm not saying that I wasn't asked some very alzheimery questions several times in a row, or that nobody nodded off, or that the pianist didn't play Somewhere Over the Rainbow for the prelude. But I came to realize that I was preaching for several former professors, including a professor of my seminary, and for a former moderator of the PC(USA).