That Strange Girl

Photo bomber, stalker, schmoozer, grabber.    Maybe she’s just lonely, I thought.   The other night, hanging out with some friends, a strange thing happened.  We were touring different restaurants downtown when we noticed this strange woman – who always seemed to be where we were.  We would duck into a storefront – and there she was.  We would stop for a cold drink, come out, and there she was – on the sidewalk, waiting.  We cut through a chain of restaurants, came out the other end – and there she was again.

It wasn’t a crowded night, there were very few people on the streets.  So, it wasn’t like she was hiding in the crowds – it was obvious – and creepy.

We finally settled into a nice restaurant for dinner, and for about 2 hours we talked and ate.  We paid the bill, walked out and there she was.  We asked a guy nearby to take a picture of our group before we climbed into a cab – and there she was – joining in like an old friend.   The bold one in the group finally spoke up . . “would you mind not being in our picture!?”   She backed-off slowly, and faded into the background.  She was gone.

“Did that really happen!?  Who was that girl?!”  We checked our pockets, our wallets and purses.   All was in order, we thought.  But still, we felt violated in some way.  We joked and laughed about it all – came up with some conspiracy theories.  But when we had driven back to the house, about 10 miles away, it was dark, and I could have sworn that I saw someone in the shadows, with blonde hair, ducking behind a bush. 

Sometimes we see things that aren’t there.

 Bottom line:  she was lonely, desperate for attention, likely wanting to be part of a group.  She needed friends to walk down the street with . . .  to eat with . . .  to socialize with.  OK – we know that’s not the way to do it – but she could have been at the end of her rope.  So, what do we do?  Guilt can take over: why didn’t I befriend her and ask her for her ‘story’?  Because that would take time and we don’t have time.  It would make us vulnerable – even to danger.  But in this life, what are we called to do?

Next time, what will I do?

(funny though - in retrospect, looking back and seeing pictures, I’m now much less concerned about the strange woman and her behavior.   It’s the guy to her left – with the glasses and that wide smile, that makes me think hard:   who’s really the crazy one?!).

Mark - retirement

Mark has given me a new outlook on things . . . . I missed the first half of his life, but this second half (retirement) is already spectacular!   Mark has qualities that I admire – like saying what he means and having a thoughtful opinion on everything from FOOD to MUSIC to SPORTS to POLITICS to INVESTMENTS to GRANDFATHERING and SPIRITUAL ISSUES  (oh, did I mention food and music?).  He doesn’t mince words, and he’s not offended if I don’t mince mine!  He has a quick mind, and it forces you to focus, just to keep up - - - - -In this day-and-age, that is unusual.   He’s a breath of fresh air, the kind of buddy I need.

     

Because of Mark, I now think more about what I eat (focusing on quality more than volume), I ride a bike every day to get in better shape, and I reflect more on the music I love (and who is singing it – because there will be a test).

 

One of my favorite (very recent) ‘memories’ of Mark, is this:   He’s in the kitchen preparing one of his famous meals, the aroma coming from the stove top is intoxicating, overwhelming the senses, the Pandora music is up loud (the way I like it) – filling the house with memories, the patio doors are wide open, a warm breeze weaving through the cold air conditioned rooms, there are waves crashing on the white sandy beach below, and the sun is setting on the horizon, lighting up the sky with a dark orange and blue hue.   I shout out  – “Mark, what can I do to help”?   “Nothing”, he shouts back (to be heard over the music).  Moving quickly back and forth from the refrigerator, to stove, to a cutting board – tossing plates and knives like a Ninja – he shouts to me:  “Scot – who’s this?!” - -  The music and words are undiscernible to me.  I shout back – “I have no idea!” – and with a scowl of friendly disappointment, he shouts back - “It’s Bruno Mars!”.    I pulled out my camera and started a video of Mark simultaneously cooking, dancing and singing the words “Uptown Funk You Up . . . If you sexy then flaunt it, if you freaky then own it . . . “. 

     

Ya, I have that video.   Great memories – thanks Mark!