Monthly Archives: August 2015

Are You My Friend?

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A couple of weeks ago, I posted on my personal Facebook page something to the effect of…if I haven’t talked to you in a long while; if the only thing we have in common are spotted dogs, fruit stripe gum and a book club at the beginning of the internets, I think it’s time we break up.  I certainly didn’t intend for people to comment but they did.  Turns out, that helped me know who was reading.

My problem with this form of social media is that now everybody is my friend.  Mark Zuckerberg turned a perfectly good word into one which has less meaning.  A friend, to me, is someone with whom I care about, talk to or see regularly, knows at least some of my history and I know theirs.  People write messages and respond to things that they don’t know anything about and they are mean. I don’t understand it at all.  Since I posted the above, I look through my…okay, “friends” list every few days and continue to become less friendly.  it’s much more pleasant for me now.  I hate to see such a fine emotional attachment turned into a word that simply means, I know your cousin’s friend’s aunt…friend me?  After my stuff, I found that, even as much as I looked forward to reading the Bedlam Farm posts, I avoided getting on FB because I didn’t want to have to skim through all the crap.
Maybe I’m being grumpy.  I hope not.  That wouldn’t make me a very good friend, would it?   

 

Contentment

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Taking Jillie to walk the trails around the San Marcos River is one of my favorite things; so after my radiation treatment was finished, we headed farther south to get some rest and do some thinking and walking.  It is such a beautiful and serene place; just what I needed.

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Our trek starts down a long winding path that will eventually take us by the playground, running path, under one bridge and later walking across two bridges where we stop to try to see the turtles.  On the long stretch before we go under the bridge, there are some picnic tables and that’s where we met Jose.  After hearing my “good morning!” he always responded and proceeded to tell me the day’s weather report.  Oh, he’d say, it’s going to be 110 today!  One day last week, I decided to stop and say more and I am so glad I did.    A genuinely happy fellow, he laughed as he told me about being a young man in the 60s in California.  He said, “I was angry and mixed up and then I joined the hippies and got happy!”  <<Big Smile>> as he told me about smoking weed and loving everyone.  He says I don’t do that no more; meaning the weed, but I got the sense that he is still loving everyone.  He had been to San Marcos long ago and fell in love with the river and the area and when he was able to retire two years ago from the garlic factory, he made a beeline for Texas.  Every day he walks until he gets tired and sits at one of the tables to watch his river.   He says with another smile, “I leave when it  gets too hot or I get too hungry”.  He teaches children how to play guitar, trumpet and a little harmonica and every Sunday he goes dancing…he loves to waltz and salsa.  

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I got a hug and when I come back, he says he’ll be there!  I think Jose has found the contentment that I am searching for…good for you, Jose!