Friday, October 21, 2011

A guru, a prophet

Cold, wet, rainy day. I feel it in my back. The kind of day a harbinger of the coming winter.  A day for staying inside. (Danielle git us a space heater.)  Catching up on office work. I’m wondering about the people down at Zucottie Park.
As cold and miserable as yesterday was, today is a mild, sunny, nearly perfect autumn day.  I see Jim Wadsworth on the street, on his way to Bella Luna for lunch.  He offers to buy me lunch. Just don’t have the time right now. I think of the letters we took up on Sunday to our Senators and Congress people about supporting the Circle of Protection legislation both domesticaly and through foreign aid. We dedicated the offering  in  memory of Carol, his wife, who did this every year. And I think of his relatives in New Hampshire, helping us to fund the boiler. And I think of his writing, for years in our men’s group. 
Lining up our Circle of Friends for our benefit in December.  In the middle of a frustrating phone call, trying to stay pleasant as someone explains how it wouldn’t be appropriate.  Not preferring one church over another. (Well, there was that landmarking process...) And I see RL. I ask him how he’s doing. Bored, he says. I saw the bathrooms. You’ll have to do them all over. Then he winks and laughs. No they’re great. I’ll come back when I've got something meaningful to say. He laughs. Tips his cowboy hat. And he’s off. 
On my way to see my old friend, my life mentor Jack, I see Marty. Its a beautiful day, he says. Four out of the last five have been beautiful. Everyday but yesterday.  It’s a great night for Simchat Torah. Oh it rained hard Rosh Ha Shanah. People leaving their shuls in the rain. Go back inside for twenty minutes, I told them. The rain will stop.  Sure enough, it stoped. I’m a guru, a prophet. 
Heading back up Amsterdam, after seeing Jack, I stop at the stationary store to buy a card for Rachel.   It’s her 90th birthday. I find her  in Bodrum, a Mediterranean restaurant, with her daughter and two friends. Give her the card and a birthday hug.Her recovery from her broken femur, her cardiac incident going amazingly well. Like Jack, she keeps going with whatever she has. Doesn't give up or in.  I look forward to our next late afernoon drink. 
Walking home in the dark, feeling good. 

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