A Real Lover, The Value of a Smile, Chicken Lady
“The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.”
— Marilyn Monroe
Good morning; it’s a beautiful Saturday in Indianapolis, IN. We are dog-sitting our daughter’s dog, Griffy; she and PVHT have a blast playing in our courtyard, aka a small dog park. The yard looks destroyed, the plants are down, dirt is everywhere, it seems like we had a small tornado or two very happy puppies having the time of their lives.
A lovely day yesterday, a run to a medical office; I got treatment, then headed home, picked up the dog, and went to a dog park. There was a code on the dog park; I asked the young men inside to let me in; I was told I had to pay to get in. So I left there seeking another dog park; I failed, so we came home and went for a long walk in the hood.
I returned and worked a little until my wife came home; we spent the afternoon together; she could eat one meal, so we went over and got her some fajitas. It was her first meal in 3 days. She will eat one meal the next four days, supplementing with some protein shakes; she’s down 6 pounds, I’m down 8. So I’m not fasting. Instead, I’m eating one meal a day and supplementing with water.
Day 16 of sobriety, my wife and I spoke about it last night; it’s not bad; it’s just different than how we usually live the other 11 months. It’s a test of will, and a pattern interrupts our ordinary existence; I like October and the clarity it brings.
We will work here Monday; I have lunch scheduled with an old friend and some work to clean up in the morning and afternoon. We will fly back to Colorado and help set up an event on Tuesday night; our event is Wednesday morning; we plan to stay in CO until Friday and fly back. A short trip, but an opportunity to see about 100 plus of our friends and clients.
I was happy to see my comments on compassion for others resonated with so many people. A simple act can change the life of others around you. No matter your station in life, you can give to others. Maybe you don’t give money, but you give a smile, you might say “hello,” and if the person replies, perhaps engage them in a conversation. Be kind; they will be kind in return. I think folks are concerned with the mental health of the other person, I get it, but most people are just hurt, not mentally impaired; use your judgment.
As young college students, we had a mentally imperfect person in our neighborhood. While my friends lived on fraternity row, my friends and I chose to live in downtown Muncie, above one of my father’s insurance offices; we were in the hood. A constant figure in our hood was “Chicken Lady.” A woman of maybe 50, white hair, and a penchant for talking to people that were not there. If you saw Chicken Lady, you would go to the other side of the road.
I never knew Chicken Lady’s name, but that is an example of someone that you might want to keep your distance. The mere act of saying hello might get her into a diatribe about her invisible husband, dog, and a goat named Teddy. You never knew what Chicken Lady was talking about; you learned to keep your eyes looking forward at all times.
I spent four years in the hood in downtown Muncie, Indiana. We live on the corner of Liberty and Jackson; I think it’s a vacant building these days. We lived across from an old Pharmacy with a lunch counter; the cook’s name was Francis. We dined there often, many times getting a full-on kiss from the chef.
Cheeseburgers, tenderloins, and onion rings were the offerings most days. We would call over our order, Francis would flirt with me or my roommate making the order, we would run over and pick it up, get a smooch and then head home to eat in our living room made up of second-hand furniture from a local habitat for humanity warehouse.
By the time I moved out after graduate school, the walls were covered in art, primarily black sharpies but some color. I took a VHS of the property the last night to help remember the space; I have no interest in watching that movie; I’ve got the memories, sometimes memory is better than reality.
Well, we have a nice day of leisure and relaxation. I’m trying to connect with my son and his family, and it’s proving a little more complicated than I imagined. Although I’m sure soon, I’ll get to see that little girl, between vaccination shots and doctor visits for that kid in the oven, Grandson and Jenny are not a top priority. I understand son, do what you need to do; we will be here when time allows.
I hope you have a great day; I hope you can find a person who needs a smile and you give that gift. Gifts need not be money; sometimes, a smile is worth more than paper with dead presidents. So join me in doing one little thing that can move our world from this angry, divided chasm into a delicious world of love, joy, and happiness.
“The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.”
— Marilyn Monroe
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