A Swiss tourist, looking for directions, pulls up at a bus stop where two Americans are waiting.
“Entschuldigen Sie, sprechen Sie Deutsch?” he asks. The two Americans just stare at him.
He tries again. “Excusez-moi, parlez-vous Français?” The two continue to stare.
“Mi scusi, lei parla italiano?” he asked. No response.
“Disculpe, habla usted Español?” Still nothing.
The Swiss guy drives off, extremely disgusted. The first American turns to the second and says, “Y’know, maybe we should learn a foreign language.”
“Why?” asked the second. “That guy spoke four languages, and it didn’t do him any good.”
They’re back. And not a moment too soon.
An anniversary. Of sorts. Not a happy one. A cautionary tale, perhaps.
Once, uncharacteristically, I followed my heart instead of my head. In the words of William Rivers Pitt, I threw the parachute out of the plane and jumped after it. The impact was predictable, I guess, inevitable and devastating.
Even so, I doubt I’ll ever get to feel again what I felt during that one perfect, pre-impact moment.
“At the end of the day you should feel so lucky that someone can make you feel that way.” – Trace Cohen
“Tell your stories, you own them. If people wanted you to write nicely about them they would have treated you better.” – Anne Lamott
I think I should start using the word “lo!” more often, in the sense of “look! see!”
“Lo! The letter carrier has arrived!”
“Lo! The copier is jammed again!”
“Lo! We’re out of milk!”
Sometime this morning. Just thirty days ago it hit 51,000.
* snif *