I think my gray hair is helping my social life.
I had two conversations on buses within the last hour with two random strangers. They just started talking to me like I was their best friend.
The first was a man about my age. He was carrying a guitar. He boarded with me downtown. He first asked me where to catch the #14, then somehow segued into his favorite strains of marijuana. He was reminiscing about his favorite weed: Thai stick, when he stopped mid sentence and asked if I smoked weed.
I told him I had a bit in college, but no longer smoke. He nodded in compassion and then started talking about how they don't grow it like they do any longer.
From there he started to tell me about his lazy roommate who drank all night, slept all day and never did the dishes. He was going into detail about his roommates habits. My stomach was starting to lurch. Not only from the vivid description of his obese, lazy, alcoholic, dirty roommate, but I also am prone to motion sickness.
Desperate for a diversion I asked him what kind of music he played, nodding to his guitar. He brightened up.
"A little Dylan, Tom Petty and Cranberries lately. I can play almost anything."
This intrigued me after coming off of a marathon music session for Holy Week in which I played traditional Lutheran hymns on a pipe organ and then praise music with a band (including my granddaughter's favorite song: "O Happy Day"). I didn't share that with this man though. I was content to let him talk. He seemed to need a friendly ear.
He told me he had only been playing for nine years, but he played by ear and was good at picking up chords. He had been homeless for much of that time, and several of his guitars had been stolen. I noticed he had his guitar securely attached to himself with a shoulder strap.
Just then his stop came up. He smiled, showing crooked, but gleaming white teeth.
"God bless you sister", he said.
I waved and he hopped off.
Then my next new friend boarded. She had gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a walker with the most beautiful potted flower. It was bright magenta. I helped her raise the seat so she could maneuver her walker out of the aisle. She thanked me.
I complimented her flower. She smiled happily and told me she was looking forward to going home and gardening.
And then she told me about her brother and sister who had both passed away recently. Both of cancer. One was a heavy smoker, one a heavy drinker.
She told me she had arthritis and COPD.
"The doctor told me to quit smoking", she confided in a hushed voice. "But I still smoke weed", she admitted in a conspiratorial tone.
I nodded. She told me it helped her arthritis more then pain pills.
I asked her if she had tried cannabis oil. She told me her friend recommended that since the smoke from the marijuana hurt her lungs.
"Do you smoke weed?" she asked.
For the second time in less than an hour, I explained that I had a bit in college, but no longer.
"I have pretty severe asthma", I told her. (To myself I also thought, "I also value my brain cells")
She nodded. Then started talking about her battle losing weight. She mentioned that she is on a low carb diet and has lost 25 pounds. She told me she would be so excited to get under 200 pounds. She said she was almost 58 years old.
I tried not to look surprised. She looked much older, but then I noticed her beautiful blue eyes.
She stopped talking for a moment and seemed to really look at me just then.
"You've decided to grow your grey out haven't you?" She asked.
I looked at her startled. "You're the first person to mention that!" I exclaimed.
She chuckled. "And I'm a stranger!"
She told me that my grey was coming in beautifully and I should keep it. I told her I was embracing grandmahood. She told me she was doing the same.
"I've seen you before", she winked at me as she pulled the bell for her stop.
And the second time in less then an hour someone wished me a blessed day.
I think I shall keep my grey hair. And maybe I might become more social yet!
Happy Tuesday!
Love,
Zita
And here is today's hooping video. Day 52!
I had two conversations on buses within the last hour with two random strangers. They just started talking to me like I was their best friend.
The first was a man about my age. He was carrying a guitar. He boarded with me downtown. He first asked me where to catch the #14, then somehow segued into his favorite strains of marijuana. He was reminiscing about his favorite weed: Thai stick, when he stopped mid sentence and asked if I smoked weed.
I told him I had a bit in college, but no longer smoke. He nodded in compassion and then started talking about how they don't grow it like they do any longer.
From there he started to tell me about his lazy roommate who drank all night, slept all day and never did the dishes. He was going into detail about his roommates habits. My stomach was starting to lurch. Not only from the vivid description of his obese, lazy, alcoholic, dirty roommate, but I also am prone to motion sickness.
Desperate for a diversion I asked him what kind of music he played, nodding to his guitar. He brightened up.
"A little Dylan, Tom Petty and Cranberries lately. I can play almost anything."
This intrigued me after coming off of a marathon music session for Holy Week in which I played traditional Lutheran hymns on a pipe organ and then praise music with a band (including my granddaughter's favorite song: "O Happy Day"). I didn't share that with this man though. I was content to let him talk. He seemed to need a friendly ear.
He told me he had only been playing for nine years, but he played by ear and was good at picking up chords. He had been homeless for much of that time, and several of his guitars had been stolen. I noticed he had his guitar securely attached to himself with a shoulder strap.
Just then his stop came up. He smiled, showing crooked, but gleaming white teeth.
"God bless you sister", he said.
I waved and he hopped off.
Then my next new friend boarded. She had gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a walker with the most beautiful potted flower. It was bright magenta. I helped her raise the seat so she could maneuver her walker out of the aisle. She thanked me.
I complimented her flower. She smiled happily and told me she was looking forward to going home and gardening.
And then she told me about her brother and sister who had both passed away recently. Both of cancer. One was a heavy smoker, one a heavy drinker.
She told me she had arthritis and COPD.
"The doctor told me to quit smoking", she confided in a hushed voice. "But I still smoke weed", she admitted in a conspiratorial tone.
I nodded. She told me it helped her arthritis more then pain pills.
I asked her if she had tried cannabis oil. She told me her friend recommended that since the smoke from the marijuana hurt her lungs.
"Do you smoke weed?" she asked.
For the second time in less than an hour, I explained that I had a bit in college, but no longer.
"I have pretty severe asthma", I told her. (To myself I also thought, "I also value my brain cells")
She nodded. Then started talking about her battle losing weight. She mentioned that she is on a low carb diet and has lost 25 pounds. She told me she would be so excited to get under 200 pounds. She said she was almost 58 years old.
I tried not to look surprised. She looked much older, but then I noticed her beautiful blue eyes.
She stopped talking for a moment and seemed to really look at me just then.
"You've decided to grow your grey out haven't you?" She asked.
I looked at her startled. "You're the first person to mention that!" I exclaimed.
She chuckled. "And I'm a stranger!"
She told me that my grey was coming in beautifully and I should keep it. I told her I was embracing grandmahood. She told me she was doing the same.
"I've seen you before", she winked at me as she pulled the bell for her stop.
And the second time in less then an hour someone wished me a blessed day.
I think I shall keep my grey hair. And maybe I might become more social yet!
Happy Tuesday!
Love,
Zita
And here is today's hooping video. Day 52!
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