I had the best time talking to my friend over lunch. He's a guy I met when I was still doing plays in Monticello and he and Kathleen and I all became friends at the same time and we shared a certain sensibility that was genuine and real and we laughed a lot about things which is always the most critical factor in determining whether a relationship is worth having or not if you ask me.
We sat at a table in the Mexican restaurant in Monticello for two hours. His sister recently died and she and Kathleen had both received treatment at the Oncology Center in Thomasville, Georgia at the same time and life is funny like that but not really funny, either.
So we talked about death and we talked about dying and we talked about old times and we talked about family and we talked about all kinds of stuff. The guy who runs the restaurant reminds me a lot of the folks in Cozumel and every time he walked by our table he said something funny to me or joked with me. I had my fan out and was fanning myself with it and the guy said, "Oh, mama, you don't have to tell ME you're hot," and we all cracked up. He's young enough to be my son, this guy.
My friend said, "How often do you come here?"
"NEVER!" I said, which is practically true and when I have been there it's almost always been with my grandchildren.
Which makes it all even funnier.
We talked about aging and finding love and feeling worthy of love. We talked about the important things.
This is the kind of social encounter that I'm up for. I just can't deal with shallow stuff. And I never have liked it. I want to go into conversations with a shovel while most social situations call for a tiny, decorative trowel. But you know- there are people you meet and you know, you just sense, that they aren't interested in the bullshit either and something in each of you calls for the deeper things and you realize that yes, this is a person with whom you can really share. Whom you can really be honest with and they'll still like you, love you, as you like and love them in their honesty.
People with whom you CAN discuss politics and religion and when I'm in a group where those two things are best left undiscussed, I'd just as soon not be there. I know there's a supposed injunction about leaving those two things alone in polite conversation so I suppose I'm just NOT a polite conversationalist and I can't tell you how many times I've met someone and just assumed they had beliefs and non-beliefs like me and ended up unintentionally insulting them and feeling like an ass but it sure is a short-cut to finding out who you want to hang out with and who you DON'T want to hang out with so fuck that injunction.
Anyway, my friend and I have no problems in either of those two sometimes touchy areas and so we did discuss both of those things along with everything else, although mostly politics. The two do have a way of blending into each other these days though.
So it was lovely and we both teared up during the two hours which is nothing new for me because I'm always on the verge of tears to be shed for sweet things or sad.
More sweet than sad, should the truth be known.
And he walked me to my car because that's who he is and then I drove to Tallahassee to the library and came home and finally got outside and did a little work. A little chicken-house depooping, a little gardening. I ripped out the tomatoes and did some weeding and after about an hour I'd sweat enough and came in. There are peas and beans to pick and I'll do that tomorrow. Probably. Maybe.
So that's been my day and the anxiety has lessened. Talking about it helps. It just does. Not whining about it but just acknowledging it, staring it in the face and refusing to give it so much power that you have to hide it.
And not to change the subject, but changing the subject, have you heard about this?
It's going to be shown in "cinemas around the world" on Sept. 23 and I sure as hell hope that one of those cinemas will be in Tallahassee. I can't wait to see it and I'd love to see it on the big screen. I still can't really believe I went to Cuba but I did and it felt all the more momentous to me that I got to go right after our president visited there and right after the Stones did that concert there.
Right there. In Havana. Where I was.
We live in interesting times, y'all. And despite the fact that my life often seems so mundane, so white-bread, so ordinary and uninteresting, it's had its moments of pure amazement. I've seen some stuff and I will probably see some more, no matter how hard I fight to stay in my little rut, my little world, my little safe place. And I have the ability to see the miraculous in even the smallest and most prosaic of events like, oh, you know- love, childbirth, that which grows when I plant a tiny seed in the dirt, the fresh, still-warm egg, the cold, clear water of the river, the power of the written word, the rising and setting of the sun, the continued life of Keith Richards.
Ah. You've heard it all before.
Thanks for being some of those friends with whom I can discuss this shit. Life and death and all the gooey glory and wonderment in between.
And politics and religion too, should the need arise.
Let's talk again tomorrow. Okay? I'd like that.