Monday, July 10, 2017



 
--I WANT TO GIVE YOU MY PHONE NUMBER, BUT YOU ALREADY HAVE IT
 

…I am as flawed as the next person.  Most likely more so.  In fact, have so many flaws, no one would pluck me off the rack at a thrift store even if my price was FREE!

Yet what’s interesting to me as I get older is that the fixation with physical appearance heightens rather than lessens. 

This weekend I was with a few people I hadn’t seen in a while.

A number of them said, “You look really good.”  I know they meant that as a compliment, but later that night I wondered what that really meant.  Like, if I didn’t look good, if I’d put on a few, lost my hair, had gotten into an auto accident where my face got scarred, what would they say then?  And why does it even matter?  Or were they saying, “You look really good,” meaning, “You look really good for someone your age”?  And if that was the case, again, why should it matter?  It’s all subjective anyway.  It’s all comparative.  Is looking really good that important?  Being healthy is, sure.  Maybe if they knew how unhealthy I am they’d take back their compliment.

And I know it was only awkward small talk, but, anyway, it got me thinking, which is something I do far more than I should.

…This weekend I was at a wedding.  It was a beautiful day and took place in a verdant setting on a lawn under a massive pine tree whose trunk was wider than a Volkswagen Beetle parked length-wise.

The couple was young and very much in love.  You could see it in their eyes and faces.  I hadn’t seen another couple that in love in a long time.  It was adorable and inspirational.  I hope they hold onto it.

...I saw some really darling kids.  Some could have been models, others were messy-faced with sticky hands, others couldn’t stop giggling which got me giggling.  I think giggling is one of the cutest things ever.

…I saw scads and scads of hipsters, none over the age of 30.  It’s as if rather than checking I.D. to see if you’re old enough to get in, at the outskirts of the Pearl District in Portland they check I.D. to see if you’re young enough to be allowed in.

These hipsters looked very fresh and clean.  Most had cool hair styles.  90 percent of them had tattoos.  Not a one looked like the depressed Millennial generation I’ve just recently heard about.  Perhaps I got some bad intel.

…I passed a daycare center called Pipster School.  I thought that was pretty darling.  Never heard of a Pipster, but of course that would originate from Portland.

…I saw a lot of homeless people.  Most were talking to themselves animatedly.  Many of them looked quite angry and a tad threatening.

…I saw a building with a colorful heart painted on the door and above it the words LOVE IS HERE along with an arrow painted toward the doorknob.  I wondered if the homeless people knew about this building and what would happen if they walked in.

…There were so many things to see my neck got a little sore from constantly turning and tilting.  It was wonderful.

I hope your weekend was as well.

Thanks so much for being here.  Truly.

 

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