--From the song "Hotel California" by Don Felder, Don Henley. and Glenn Frey of The Eagles.
The 5th Floor is inescapable. Biology writes its name in blood.
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A couple years ago I met this guy. People told me I'd like him, which is something funny that people say sometimes.
"You're gonna like this guy!"
If I don't like him, do I get money back?
Plus, I like everybody, so what's the big deal?
He plays a great cello. Makes a mean cranberry and tonic. Asks direct questions. Asked me about my loneliness. Did I answer simply because he asked? Would I have answered another stranger with such depth and transparency? Was it because of his training as a therapist? He just graduated from Loma Linda University, Phd. In Clinical Psychology.
photo by Austin Bacchus
After listening to my fears, why in the world did he and his wife come over that Sunday, laden with food and good company? What made them sit with me when I was so painfully uninteresting? I was empty and they sat with me.
I had the divorce leprosy. We don't know what to do with that. How do we treat these living dead? They're not single. They're not married. Are they contagious?
I fell asleep and they were still there an hour later when I woke up. How rude of me! They said they were glad of the opportunity to help me relax.
He lives far away and I may not see him for a while. But I think in the few encounters we did have, I found someone I'm connected to by geography-resistant ties.
Blood, they say, is thicker than water.
The Biologicals are coming.
A single phrase to describe my cousin Derek Bacchus: He sat with me . . .
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