Random joy

Possibly my favoritest thing in the whole, wild world, or is that wide world, my favorite thing is contact with strangers. The random “howdy doos” that make us all part of the human fabric.

Cynic I may be, but simultaniously the cock-eyed optimist actually likes people. Not all of them. But a handful here and there.

For today, the rhythm of the day was food, glorious gorging food. M. had made ambitious brunch on Easter Sunday reservations at a nearby four-star hotel’s restaurant, and I willingly followed his lead. I mean, really, who am I to naysay eggs benedict, fresh berries, brioche french toast, orange juice and champagne on a sunny, outdoor patio in honor of Jesus dying on a cross for your sins? Not mine sins, mind you, apostate as I am, but yours.

I wanted to stay, drink and eat until I vomited. I couldn’t convince M., who recently had a physical and is becoming a bit too acutely aware of mortality and our 40+ years on the planet and gravity’s drag, to eat ourselves into oblivion. Instead, his call, we took the four or five-mile physical fitness tour of “the Dish” at the “the Farm.”

Damn him and his sober non-bulimic ways.

My favorite reason for walking the Dish is my constant quest for a great hawk picture. These below will underscore that the quest continues. I’m guessing Red-Tailed Hawk.

DSC_0052_005DSC_0056_003DSC_0044_005DSC_0054_002

Post nature, we stood around downtown Palo Alto trying to imagine what we could eat now that dinner time and a lowering sun had rolled around. We stared fixedly down the main drag, tyring out various ethnicities and diets in our imaginations.

About the time we each took an overly dramatic stance of not knowing what to have, an older woman passed us walking in the opposite direction with a personal grocery wagoncart piled with the day’s shopping and a flat of spring flowers for her garden or window boxes. She paused, a tad dramatically her own bad self, and told us that “you two look so serious,” perhaps implying that no one should be that serious.

I had to laugh and confess our serious faces were drawn by our joint concentration on dinner choosing. A topic lacking a certain gravity.

She recommended a Greek place down the street, which I’ve made a mental note to try, and went on her way.

Are there any conversations better than the unexpected and unbidden?

Talk with me. Please.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.