Last week, while driving home from work, my Dad called me for no reason other than to tell me that he saw a bald eagle. For as long as I can remember both my father and I have shared a passion for all birds of prey. Some of my fondest childhood memories are marked by the presence of hawks and eagles. I feel lucky and closer to my Dad whenever I see one.
Some girls like ponies…other girls like flying killing machines. That’s why I love you
Dare to be Different - that’s why we ALL love you Erin
Perhaps, in a distant café, four or five people are talking with the four or five people who are chatting on their cell phones this morning in my favorite café.
And perhaps someone there, someone like me, is watching them as they frown, or smile, or shrug at their invisible friends or lovers, jabbing the air for emphasis.
And, like me, he misses the old days, when talking to yourself meant you were crazy, back when being crazy was a big deal, not just an acronym or something you could take a pill for.
I liked it when people who were talking to themselves might actually have been talking to God or an angel. You respected people like that.
You didn’t want to kill them, as I want to kill the woman at the next table with the little blue light on her ear who has been telling the emptiness in front of her about her daughter’s bridal shower in astonishing detail for the past thirty minutes.
O person like me, phoneless in your distant café, I wish we could meet to discuss this, and perhaps you would help me murder this woman on her cell phone,
after which we could have a cup of coffee, maybe a bagel, and talk to each other, face to face.
Say Amen to that. Let’s all put down the phones in public places, look around and try a smile for starters.