A Medium Life

I have not posted in over a week -- I'm sure you all have been poised by the telephone, trying to decide if you should place a phone call to see if President Obama has tapped me for some hot diggety dog campaign position or, much more likely, was I just sick.  But, not to worry, I have not jumped the shark to the dark side and nothing has been wrong with me -- my fingers are still working and, the last time I exercised it, my mind was still pretty sharp.  The truth is much more boring than anything you might have imagined -- simply, in the last 7 days, nothing has really piqued my interest and I have been too busy to sit down, caressing my computer, for the 4 or 5 hours that I think a really good posting requires.  My days have been pretty normal, run of the mill, with no real highs or lows.  Oh sure, Jerry and I have been bickering a little bit -- it doesn't happen often really -- but even that was just 2 people who needed sleep taking it out on the easiest and closest targets.  It's not right -- we both know it -- and, if we thought about it before we barked, we wouldn't do it.  But we are over that now.

So why am I posting today?  I am not sure really but I wanted to say that -- my -- life -- is -- good.

Today, I had a pleasant 20 minute conversation with a woman I had never met before -- Maria.  She was young, attractive and interesting.  She genuinely thought about the words she spoke before she said them.  She was interested in my responses.  The back and forth was was lively and, as they say, "in the moment."

The conversation started out slow -- we didn't know how much time we had to talk or what sort of things to say to each other.  But, we quickly realized that we had some commalities.  She worked in a very similar industry doing things that I used to do in my old job.  She booked musical acts into venues in and around the Washington DC area.  Very cool.  How often do you come across someone who has met and talked to Sting and Stevie Wonder?

For some reason, I told Maria how, from about 1975 through 1982, I was a total Linda Ronstadt fan -- really more than a fan -- I was a nut case about her, in love with her.  This woman -- way too young to have listened to Ronstadt's LP's, yes, LP's, in her heyday -- knew Ronstadt because her own father had a huge crush on her too.  When I found out Maria's father was 10 years older than me, I said "well, there's no contest here.  Clearly, Linda would have chosen me because of my youth."  We smiled and swapped war stories, our speech more the comfortable back and forth of old friends than 2 people randomly thrown ino the same room together.  It was nice.  Nothing more or less.  Nice.

No expectations, no jockeying for position, no "what can I get out of this person."  Just a nice moment in time.

Later in the day, after Maria was long gone, I had a telephone call with an old colleague.  No agenda, just catching up.  A nice conversation with a woman who is just starting an exciting time in her life.  She sounded so content.

Lunch was with a dear friend of mine who is at the prime of his life.  Past indecision and lack of confidence are behind him.  His life is good and he is rising to every occasion.  His optimism and joy draw me in like he had some sort of graviational pull.  I hung on his words, looking for the meaning behind them, because they reflected his inner peace.  It was nice.  And, hey, he paid for lunch too, not bad, huh?

I emailed with someone I knew in college, many eons ago back when I seriously thought Linda Ronstadt often dreamed about that hot looking dark haired young stud in the 2nd row at Assembly Hall in Champaign, Illinois -- I know she looked right at me during Easy For You To Say.  I was wearing green corduroy jeans with bell bottoms big enough to cover my shoes and, oh yes, a plaid vest -- and I sang every word to every song, including Blue Bayou and It's So Easy.  Sheri is funny and engaging and remembers me as a relatively thin and fun-loving guy.  What's not to like?  She was one of those plain nice people then and she remains so now.  Our banters and memories are the sort of pure, lovely moments that I hope everyone has once in a while.

I was blessed to have contact with these people.

After work, Jerry and I walked home together, enjoying the best that Spring has to offer.  He held his Vente Latte in his hand and I, a Tall Vanilla Bean Frappucino -- skinny of course.  We enjoyed each other's company alot, relieved that the several days of not-so-frequent, thank God, bickering were mostly behind us.  It was so nice and it reminded me of why we have been together for more than 17 years.

In short, it was an uneventful but heart-warming day and I am fortunate to have had a day like this.  Sure, nothing big happened.  I had not won the lottery, any lottery.  I had not lost weight or grown new hair on my bald spot.  I did not have a visit from a long lost dear friend or relative.  I had not been asked to speak at the next graduation of Washington College of Law at The American University. But, in a delicate balance that only a benevolent God can grant, I had not experienced any trauma either.  No psycho-sexual abuse or gnawing loneliness slowly eroding youth and happiness and life affected me.  There was no booger in my nose that I didn't know about.  I don't have tumors or persistent swollen legs or a slow moving infection heating up my insides.

In short, it had been just a normal day, doing what has to be done, getting on with it and having really lovely conversations with some really lovely people.

I recognize that I could be richer, smarter, luckier, hipper, younger, nicer, cuter, more generous, thinner, in better shape and/or more talented -- hard to believe, I know.  But, on the other hand, I just couldn't be any happier.  Well, maybe  if I could grow more hair to cover my bald spot. . .