One of the things that is good about old age is that you are forced to confront the brutal truth that the universe doesn't revolve around your own ego, which in fact, will soon be gone. Freed of that delusion, you can pay more attention to other people in the world. Sometimes these people have remarkable and admirable qualities that deserve more notice and praise.
For instance, my camping neighbor. Normally I am hostile towards camping neighbors, and in fact, I started off that way with this old fellow. I dreaded the coming conversation with this oldster. You know how it goes: endless, long-winded anecdotes, told with irrelevant details. Sometimes a single anecdote can turn into a 10 minute soliloquoy that bores the listener to death. Then they forget many of the irrelevant details and hold things up even more.
But this guy had none of those faults. He had many anecdotes that fit into the topic of conversation -- and it did feel like a conversation because his story only lasted three sentences or so. I don't know if he disciplined himself deliberately or not, but he made it look so easy. But from the look of him, you would never guess there was anything extraordinary about him.
And not once did he ask, "Where ya from?"
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| Mother Nature turns into such a drama queen with clouds and rain. |
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| My little cutie admiring a reef in central Utah. |
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| A morning bike ride in the badlands of Nevada. |
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