Thursday, November 23, 2006
I reserve an hour in the morning, after Littlest is dropped at school, for time with some friends over coffee. A restauranteur -- a Connector in the Gladwellian sense if there ever was one -- introduced me one day at his shop and the next thing you know, I have eight new friends. The group has mostly kept together even after the bagel place closed (it's still a vacant storefront, last time I looked) and the biggest loss is the Connector, who is always there in spirit.
While my church closed I have managed to keep in contact with most of my fellow worshippers, and I'm out singing with them two Sundays next month. That also keeps me nearer Mrs. S, the pianist, for whom no thanks is ever enough.
I'm thankful for this blog and the friends, the NARN, the MOB, a chance to relive radio memories, to have co-authors like Janet (and from the past Jack and Dave and Kevin and Jim and Marie and I'm sure I've forgotten someone), Scholars all.
I'm thankful that I learned to keep busy from my parents. They called me last Sunday afternoon with the sound of the surf in the background. Walking on the beach towards a hotel that had pie. My dad's had a six-pack of heart attacks in the last twenty years, so every day is good as long as he draws a breath. But he knows busy means, in Satchel Paige's phrasing, nothing is gaining on him. Rust never sleeps.
Thankfully, I'm keeping one step ahead of the rust.
Have a fine weekend, thanks for reading. I'll be back Monday.