I was going to tell you about the older man I talked to at Starbucks today. I decided against going into all that. He was a strange man. Talked to himself a lot while reading the newspaper. Whatever he was reading must have been pretty shocking or very interesting.
Took me too long to figure out that what he hadn’t seen in awhile was the book I was reading, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Apparently his had a green cover, not pink. He found it very amusing that one is not any more knowledgeable about Zen or Motorcycle Maintenance after completing the book. He laughed very hard after saying that.
He had a great uncle that used to come visit him in Florida when he was about five. This great uncle was from Ohio. Even in July, in the horrible Florida summer heat, his uncle would always wear a topcoat and hat. And today he wondered why I was wearing tights.
“Shew, you’ve got to be hot in those. Aren’t those for like, winter?”
“Yes, indeed. But they’re not too hot, as long as you’re in an air conditioned place. Which I’m needing right now.”
Really, I just need to shave, but I didn’t think he’d care to know that. You probably don’t either… Anyways, this was the same uncle who had one joke he always told. Even though everyone had heard it a hundred times, he kept telling it. It must have been funny, because my partner in conversation was laughing quite hard. He didn’t bother telling me what the joke was.
Then there was some random relative, because everyone starts calling you up when your family moves from the northern states to Florida. This relative was a body builder, super healthy type, “before it was cool”. The greatest mental image from today: His relative, Frank I think it was, would put on a spandex type suit and every morning he would walk the parameter of their front yard on his hands. Amazing. Then, of course, the neighbors would start to call his father, saying
“There was a man in a diaper walking on his hands around your yard”.
“Oh, it’s just Frank.”
I suppose I just told you about him.
I’m not sure of much of anything these days. Maybe that’s why I talk so much.
-Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
Not the best book, not the worst. But what a conversation starter.
Tags: conversation
