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In the sunshine of your love

November 22, 2013

My first day back at my morning run in the park since the car accident and all the traveling, and I found I’d missed the people I always see but never speak to. My favorites are a group of people I’ve always assumed were around my parents’ age. There are six of them and they are always walking together and talking animatedly. They look like they’ve known each other for many years. This morning, only four of them made it. As I approached, I could hear them talking first about school drills.

“My granddaughter’s school had a lockdown drill.”

One of them scoffed. “When we were kids we had bomb drills. What’s a lockdown. They all nodded.

I passed them and did my loop and came up behind them again and switched to a walk. They’d moved on to the Kennedy assassination, each remember when and where and how old he or she was when it happened.

“What’s 13, 7th grade? I was in 7th grade. My teacher was out in the hall and came back crying.”

“I was in my junior year in college. I remember they came on over the loudspeaker and told us the President had been shot.”

The rest all began talking at once. I passed them again and missed the end of the conversation, if indeed there was an end.

* * * * *

On the train, sat next to a woman who pulled, from her capacious handbag, the tiniest dog dressed in teeny-tiny camouflage hunting vest. I tried to take a picture. It was the most ridiculous and strangely adorable thing I’ve ever seen. And I don’t like small dogs as a rule.

* * * * *

On the way to the subway after work, I passed a giant duck walking down 5th Avenue. He waved. I waved back.

* * * * *

I took AJ to his first guitar lesson in some time today. His new teacher lives just a couple of blocks away. AJ was a little nervous — he doesn’t like playing for others. But the teacher put him at his ease. He started asking questions and asking AJ to play a few things, quickly adjusting his vocabulary and his questions as he saw what AJ already knows and can do. AJ seemed to take to him. And vice versa too, I think. AJ and I also both agreed that his apartment was fantastically decorated. We are a little jealous.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. November 24, 2013 9:10 pm

    In Cruel Shoes, Steve Martin has an essay entitled “What to Do when the Ducks Show Up.”

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