We are each other's angels

Last night was the middle of a week that, in general, is not going well, and I had to pick up teenaged boys from two different locations and get downtown for a meeting about an AIDS-related fund-raiser that Peter Shapiro and I founded about ten years ago. With that and a dozen other concerns roiling in my mind, I was driving distractedly, hit a curb and blew out a tire.

Ugh.  Changed the tire and got to the meeting so late that it had spun into what I considered a wrong-headed direction; and there was no pulling it back.  Anyway, I was feeling too vulnerable to try.  It's my second flat tire in a month. Alison -- trying to cheer me up -- said,  "Town Fair Tire should give you a little punch card, like they have at bagel places. You should get every fifth tire free."

The night doddered along. There were just all kinds of bad vibes in the air.  I  insisted on rolling, on my little donut spare, back to the State Capitol around 9:30 to see what they were doing about campaign finance reform, an issue close to my cranky heart.  The Capitol at night is always weird, in different ways. Last night it was sort of flat and ghostly, as if nobody was really there, just astrally projected in from somewhere else. It (further) creeped me out.

I went home. It was late.  In the garage of my apartment building, I realized I had to get everything out of the back of my car so the tire guys could deal with it today, so I loaded everything into a shopping cart which made me look like somenbody pushing a lot of junk around in a shopping cart which was not a good way for me to feel or look at that moment.

There was another guy getting out of his car. I didn't recognize him, but we made our way to the elevators together and got on. He pushed 9 and I asked for 7.

He said, "I just want to say I really appreciate your show and your writing." He held up a palm. "I know you hate acknowledgement. And you hate small talk. Especially on an elevator. But I also want to say, as a gay man, I appreciate everything you say about those issues. You've been an incredible source of support for our community." And then he went on to say that he used to live on R--- Street and got divorced and moved here, and he knew I had done exactly the same thing.  Just kind of a weird coincidence.

And I wanted to choke out a few things, including the fact that my whole reputation for social awkwardness is both real and a little bit exagerated for theatrical effect, and that as far as the gay stuff goes, well, it's kind of nice to have something worth rolling up your sleeves and fighting for, and I missed some of the other big civil rights issues. So it's a privilege.

What I said, I think, was, "Thank you.""

The doors opened. He got out.

"This is my floor," I told him.  "If you get off here, you'll walk into the wrong apartment."

"That might be good," he said wryly.

He got back in.  I pushed my rattling shopping cart down the hall, thinking that my life lately is full of these little encounters, when some stranger, just at the right moment, often on the elevator as it moves heavenward,  half-apologetically thanks me for all the crazy stuff I get up to.  And kind of saves my life for five mimutes.

Comments

[bruce]

Thanks, Sally, for drawing attention to this entry - I hadn't read it before. An interesting experiment is to assume that every day, somebody random has some sort of message or piece of information for you. You only have to be alert. I think the New Age term might be being truly present for people. It clicks you over from Autopilot. I've been unsuccessfully trying to locate They Might Be Giants, a George C. Scott film where he believes he is Sherlock Holmes. Every little odd occurrence - a newspaper page blowing across his feet - is a possible signal from his arch-nemesis.

[Sally]

Sometimes in the life happen some crazy days, sometimes they bring only troubles, but without them our life seems to be boring.

[loey]

wow,your soul has exhaled and can take a deep breath in,now.the clean,fresh air should be invigorating.
p.s.you've redeemed yourself in your own mind with the newest photo of alison as it is beautiful.
i thought the others were just fine.
keep breathing

[Holly]

I think, Colin, that you're getting the personal thing down pretty well... You may not realize it, but this latest post shows a whole new side to the 'Rock of Gibralter' we've all come to know and love, er, like... you know what I mean...

Cheers!

[Peter Shapiro]

If life is a highway, you've got to figure that we're all vulnerable to a fair share of flat tires. Sometimes two in a month. No surprise there...nobody's fault. But try not to run too close to empty...it blows those flat tires way out of proportion.

More importantly, for all of us, are you happier now than you were five years ago? If not, why not? And what's the plan? Give yourself an early holiday present...put some extra in your emergency tank and keep topping it off for safe keeping.

Kisses all around,

Peter

[eric1/2b]

And with this, McE, I think you have hit your stride.

[nancy aronie]

o my god colin. you are dropping into that heart of yours at mach one ! that was funny in the way you are always funny but it was layered like deep like real like underneath all the pain and loss and fear (remember i read your book!) and you are a gift to the world now. maybe that's why you havent gone national. it would have been premature. you are readying and when you do you will have more money and more freedom to be with alison the healer. come out here. the invitation is for any time. I'm leaving for hawaii to be with ram dass in retreat til the 16th. so after that come. or between xmas and new years or come for new years or for what evah. you can have total privacy and quiet with some aronie activity thrown in. i menat your snail mail address
oooxoox n