lynnshawcroft.com

Hey..thanks for voting for Mitch - he won for the second year in a row -in the Comedy Competition. and thanks to Pete Dominick for calling me!!

Hello. How are you? Since I can’t hear you answering me in your native tongue - I will assume, “Fine, thanks for asking”.

I have been avoiding this blog like the plague…without all the “75% of the population is going to die and there will be bodies piled on top of each other in front of the local coffee shop” drama.

Anyway. Keeping busy. And by keeping busy I mean I’m taking an Anthropology course. And by Anthropology course, I mean I am usually looking around and staring at people and the world around me trying to figure what the fuck is going on and what everyone is doing…and why? This class in going to take years…And the fact that I’m the teacher and the student makes it that much more confusing.

Anyway. Two days ago, on my way to my cabin, I stopped at a Barnes and Noble (at a strip mall down the mountain) to find myself a Alfred Hitchcock biography…I have been watching episodes of his TV show online and noticed just how funny he is (was). Before each episode he has a little chat with the viewer about the show and murder and stuff. Bloody Charming!

I decide to grab a coffee at the Starbucks. There are little tables within the Starbucks area where you can read the book that you have bought or are thinking about buying. There’s a few random magazine scattered around as well.

So as I walk towards the ‘Order Here’ sign I notice a man sitting at one of the tiny little tables. He’s alone. Perhaps in his fifties (doesn’t matter). Just a normal looking fella. In the split second as I watch him, he takes his plastic fork and reaches across his book/newpaper/magazine and with the side of the fork he cuts himself a bite size piece of cake, that he has bought to enjoy with his read. The cut was so precise… and sweet…. and purposeful. Then he put the fork down - savouring the treat.

I forgot to check out what he was reading.

I felt like crying for some reason. I’m not sure that I can explain why. I guess I kinda felt like I was spying on him. No..that’s not it. It was just really sweet for some reason. The alone-ness and quietness of it. I don’t know, really.

SO. Cut to: There is a small gym in the small town where my cabin is. It’s got a few treadmills and some weights. Cozy. It only costs me $6 to use for the day when I am up here. Sometimes there is no one there running things - I just go in and work out and leave a note and six bucks for the owner. It’s never really busy…but on three occasions during the last two days three different silver haired men have dropped in to work out. The thing is they just wear their jeans and plaid shirts to do so. They lift weights with dust in their hair. I like it. One went outside after he worked out to have a cig. I love it.

Anyway, I’m not sure why these various later- in -life fellas have captured my attention….maybe they don’t make me feel overwhelmed like the world around me usually does. I dunno.

Underwhelming is underrated, perhaps.

Cheers.