There Is A Certain Pronounced Joy About Dining Alone

 The restaurant was busy, the tables seemed to be spilling over with patrons. Every seat at the bar was taken as well, and not by drinkers, by diners.

The food was that good.

The strictly business hostess with the closely-cropped red hair (dye job) caught his attention with what could only be described as a curt smile. She did not welcome him to the establishment - she offered no greeting, warm or otherwise. She just looked at him, expectantly.

"Hi." He proffered. "Table for one please."

"One?" She questioned. "Are you eating by your lonesome tonight?"

"Not by my lonesome by any stretch - just alone."

The hostess starred at him for a long second, then said, "Uhm, okaay, alone. Just the one."

He looked at her as if she was now figuring out the punchline to a joke she heard yesterday. 

"Yes," He stated, "the singular joy of enjoying a great meal without distracting banter or constant interruptions." 

A small smile formed on her face as she scanned the laminated floorplan that had been taped to the small dias that served as her command and control center. "I have a small table in the far back, over here. The second chair was poached by a table sitting seven. It's by the galley door."

"That would be perfect," He replied. "Perfect."

"Follow me," She said over her shoulder as she grabbed a menu and turned toward the main dining room.

"Gladly" was his unheard reply.

 

Walking Along A Uruguayan Beach At Sunset

 The dream is sharp and well-defined. 

Tall, lanky, sunburnt, wearing nothing but shorts and a pair of sandals, walking across the rather wonky dipsy-do surface of the La Barra bridge towards the coast to spend the afternoon taking in more sun than necessary.

Beach chair? Check. Sun Block? Check. Prescription shades? Check. A copy of Surdoval's "Double Nickels" to read? Check.

Wings Of Change

 

"Wings of Change" Metal sculpture by Douwe Blumberg, 2008

What Do You Wish You Were Taught When You Were A Kid?

 This was a question I overheard as I was eating breakfast. It was asked by one of a group of older adults (by that I mean older than me) who were sitting at the table next to mine. 

Six people, four men, two women, all over sixty if a day. Probably all over 70.

I was playing a game (Words With Friensds2) on my phone when the question was poised (I had two U's, two E's, an A, an I, and an S. Barf.), and I picked up my ears when I heard it. If I have learned one thing over the course of my life it's that old people know stuff worth listening too, especially when it comes to life lessons.

Some of you may be shaking your heads thinking that's what Grandparents, Aunts & Uncles, and your Parents are for, but I never had any Grandparents, Aunts or Uncles, and only one parent - who was much too busy just trying to keep us all alive to be ruminating with us kids about life lessons.

So I eavesdropped for almost an hour, lingering over the bacon as if I wasn't too hungry (no easy feat, believe you me).

Everyone of the people sitting at that table chimed in with answers. I got the impression that none of them had grown up together - I think the oldest reference to a couple of them passing up the same good advice was when two of them discussed an economics class they took together in college.

They all seemed to agree that, generally speaking, they all wished they had been taught how money works, and how important it was to save for the future.

I made a mental note about that and how common the lack of an education in money matters was in just about everyone I know. Heck, I didn't even know how to rate a stock until I was in my late twenties, early thirties (and still really don't believe I actually know - I just tell myself I do when I make my paltry monthly purchase online).

The one thing that caught me off guard and really turned my ears was when one of the group of six stated she wished she'd been taught how to raise her kids before she had them.

The fact that everyone else at the table agreed with her made it all the more startling.

Self-Fulfilling Inaction

Never had a dream he would never realize

Never had an ideal he would never live up to

Never had a goal he would fall short of

Never had a hero who would let him down in the end

All he ever wanted to do 

Was to survive

All he ever wanted to do

Was to get by

All he ever wanted to do

Was to not have to actually try

And wouldn't you know, that's exactly how it worked out

Dance Like Thing 1984

 He leaned against the wall and stared across the room trying to make out the faces and figures of the girls sitting at the various tables. He was hoping she would be here tonight and wanting to dance. 

He was also hoping that tonight he'd find the cojones to ask her to dance.

It could happen he thought as he peered about the room. He actually might, possibly, ask her to dance tonight, and they actually might, possibly, dance together. 

Maybe to that Fixx song he knew she liked, which would be fitting if not ironic.

He took a swig out of the glass of water that had been getting warm in his hand. His drink of choice had always been water whenever he went out - alcohol always made him feel vulnerable and he hated that feeling.

He continued to glance about the room but to no avail. He was either too early or too late. He argued with himself as to whether he should leave or give it a bit longer, or just ask someone else to dance.

The DJ had played a couple of slow songs, Air Supply's hit from last year and that Calypso sounding song from that chick who had been in ABBA. He hated slow songs, and hated watching people dance to slow songs. The couples who weren't wrapped around each other all danced as if they were stumbling through a dense fog, in circles, with their eyes glued to either the ceiling or the floor.

Then the syncopated beats of Chaz Jankel's Questionaire flooded out of the huge speakers and engulfed the room. He quickly looked around as couples untangled and for the most part left the dance floor. He caught sight of a girl who looked to be lingering a bit, as if deciding whether or not she wanted to stay out on the floor to dance to the song, and quickly walked over to her.

"Hey, dance with me," he nearly shouted. "I love this song!" 

The two made their way to the center of the dance floor and started dancing amongst a group of 8 to 10 other people who had been likewise moved by the song. The kid smiled as he moved with the girl, and she smiled right back at him.

"This," he thought, "might turn out to be a good night after all." 

First December Sunrise, Lakewood