I'm doing that thing where I have to run around scouting on foot and by subway today, so I really don't feel like lugging around a ton of laptop in my backpack. All of which means, I won't be chatting with you all until later today.
Most people who announce that they won't be around invite you to entertain yourselves. To hell with that! I'm inviting you to entertain me. I fully hope and expect to find myself utterly amused when I get back to the computer this afternoon.
And just to start you off in a direction (and, by no means, feel constrained to continue in this direction), in the last week or so, I've had two different people who I haven't crossed paths with in over 20 years, friend me on Facebook. Anybody else running into people from your distant paths?
I've noticed a significant uptick in being "found" on facebook recently.
Most good, but I've got two people sitting there and I can't decide if I want to friend them or not, because I'm not comfortable with either person.
Ignore 'em with impunity. They don't have any claim on you.
And if you're asking why I'm still here, I've gotta fill out permit applications just to go look at some of these places. Such a lot of wasted effort for a bunch of places that won't get chosen.
(Whine, whine, whine!)
I haven't been friended by people from my past, but there have been 2 attempted friendings from people who have the same name as I do. Does that count?
In the UCF spirit, I'm offering you some chocolate. Or would you like some cheese to go with that whine?
I too was "found" recently, but it wasn't by some old school mate or former coworker on facebook. It was far more serious and indeed sinister than that. I was found by the law, specifically Detective Patrick Calhoun. I thought I had dug myself in deep enough that I didn't have to worry about Calhoun and the warrant that he had been carrying with him for the past twenty years, but I was wrong.
I was at the mall, looking for something for my wife for Valentine's Day when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Irritated, I turned around only to find myself face-to-face with the Calhoun. His strong jaw was set in a sneer and he had two day's worth of stubble. He looked older, more wrinkled around the eyes, forehead and mouth, which is expected since the last time I saw him was as I leapt onto that freighter, narrowly avoiding him and his men, nearly 15 years ago. In the five years he'd chased me before I went deep into hiding, we'd crossed paths many times, and he'd managed to catch me, once, but eye got away. Despite the aged appearance of his face, his eyes were as cold, hard, and alert as they ever were. I should have recognized the familiar scent of old spice and stale cigarette smoke that drifted off of him like a fog.
We faced each other off, and he sneered. "It's been a long time," he said. "I've finally found you, and this time I have concrete proof that you did it."
"I didn't do anything," I told him for the millionth time. "I told you before it was the mustachioed man."
"Don't feed me that bullshit. We know it was you. You bored those people to death and you're going to rot in a cell for it."
He reached back for the handcuffs that were concealed under his long coat, and I threw my large Coke in his face. He'd lost his touch, because that wouldn't have fazed him back in the day. I took the moment of opportunity I had as he spluttered to shoulder past him, knocking him to the ground as I sprinted through the mall. I could hear his shouts and calls of alarm from other shoppers coming from behind me. They faded as I rounded the corner down another corridor and lost myself within a crowd.
I stayed as low as I could without making myself stand out as the crowd moved slowly past different stores. Part of the group broke off and went into Sears and I followed. In the men's department I swapped my shirt and coat for some stuff off the rack and yanked a cap of one of the racks. Green Bay Packers, ugh, it wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.
If he'd found me in the mall, he no doubt knew my car and where I had parked, so I couldn't go back to it. There weren't many cabs out in this small town, so that was out. I'd have to steal someone's car.
As I was looking for a convenient purse to snatch or pocket to pick, despite as alert as I thought I was, he found me again. I felt cold steel wrap around my right wrist. I swung blindly, hoping to connect with his face and knock him out. No such luck. My arm hit his shoulder and he slapped the other side of the handcuffs on my free arm.
"This ends today, you piece of shit," he growled. "No more running. You're going to answer for those people you killed."
"I told you, it wasn't me! it was the mustachioed man!"
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before."
So now I can be found sitting in this cell. But I'll get out, and there are plans in motion. I've learned that the mustachioed man can be found stalking the streets and subways of New York, and I'll find him so that he can pay for ruining my life.
Anybody else running into people from your distant paths?
How do you run into somebody if they're on a distant path?
I plan on going for a walk on the trails at the USNWC, which are sort of like paths, but they're not really that distant. They're sort of halfway between work and home, actually, so I consider them en route or close. If I see anyone from the paths, I guess I'll say "hello."
Matt W. said: for the past twenty years,
... so that means you killed all those people when you were 4? o.O
6 actually :)
One week after being on facebook (joined in late January), my ex-fiance friended me after she had been on facebook, for one week. The woman the song "The First Cut it the Deepest" was written for. Yeah. I knew there was a reason I was avoiding it.
Now, on the plus side, I did want to apologize for my being an idiot as a young man. So at least I got the chance. And we've had some nice email exchanges.
I also got to find out that three years ago she divorced the guy she left me for. Weird feelings about that.
I was friended by someone I went to sleep-away camp with in the mid to late '70's less than a week after joining Facebook. I hadn't thought about them for years, but it's been fun "meeting" them again.
I don't do Facebook, but an old girlfriend found me through my blog. The breakup years ago was mellow as we were heading in different directions, and we remained friends for a number of years afterwards. I even did the photography for her wedding (at the time I did wedding photography part time).
It's been nice emailing back and forth, and we've even talked a couple of time on the phone.
Steve, I, too, was an idiot as a young man. Sometimes I still am.
Post a Comment