balding angrily

Today Jerry and I went for a bike ride around a lake with white sail boats on it. It was a comfortable ride, and halfway through it we saw a man sitting with some lawn chairs and a placard offering free advice. Jerry asked if I wanted to stop, telling me that Cols had once stopped and talked with the man. He told me that he and a friend have been giving free advice from that spot for 14 years.

Jerry & I stopped. We worked out a meeting time, and he rode on.

Randolph, the man giving free advice, smiled. A lot. He sat closer to me on the ground when he realized he couldn’t hear me. He told me that I saw beauty, and that I wanted to create beauty. He told me that I want to see feet tapping to my music. He told me that he used to deal with autism, that for ages he couldn’t tell left from right. But that he could work credits and debits on a spreadsheet. He told me that Arnold Palmer said, “It’s a mixed blessing for a golfer to be able to shoot his or her age.” He pointed out the political correctness of “his or her.” He told me that I should write restaurant reviews. He told me that Jerry and I are under grace, that we’ve been given a gift and that we’ve made the best of it. That we’ve spent years building a solid foundation. He told me to not forget our foundation. He told me to see August Rush and G.I. Jane. He told me that he saw me writing about atmospheres.

I thanked him, and told him he had a wonderful spot on the lake. It had perfect shade and a view of bicyclists riding by.