Pic: The Rockies from Twin Sisters Peak, Nederland, CO
Earlier this week, while staying with Doug and Michelle and their daughter, I started a List Of Things I Have Done For Children by repatriating an American robin chick that had been defenestrated by a European starling trying to seize the robins’ nest for her own children. (Fun fact: baby birds are incredibly warm and soft. Fun fact: European starlings are assholes.)
Today, I added to the List:
- Read aloud from a comic book adaptation of Return of the Jedi (Fun fact: comic books have a lot of expository text. Fun fact: small children don’t care about the expository text.)
- Do a semi-decent Chewbacca voice
- Do a not-very-good C3-PO voice
Later, Dave and I snuck off for a quick grown-up hike — well, a hike for me; Dave routinely does this six mile route as a run. I expressed how glad I was to hang out with him and Julie and their kids. He apologized for not keeping in touch very well. We talked about the friction of adult relationships and I told one of Dave’s stories back to him:
After college and a short stint of gainful employment, Dave spent a year bumming around South America. When he returned, he visited two of his good friends: his old roommate Viv and her boyfriend (now husband) Hoss.
“Dave!” cried Viv. “It’s great to see you! It’s been so long! How was your trip? Oh my God, we have so much to talk about!”
Hoss came into the room. “Sup, dude,” he said.
I, like Dave, am no good at staying in touch, but I try to make up for it by maintaining low-friction friendships. Years have passed, children have been born, but in no time at all Dave and I were chatting like we had on long bike rides through the Berkeley Hills, half a lifetime ago.
In contrast to the sometimes-high friction of adult relationships, I watched with envy as Dave and Julie’s son made a friend in the parking lot after dinner at Kathmandu Restaurant. Cole, whose face was painted thanks to a festival at his school that afternoon, was climbing on rocks in front of the restaurant when a slightly older kid approached: “What’s on your face? You look like a ladybug!” After a short discussion, the new pals were jumping on and off of the rocks together. In between leaps, Cole’s new acquaintance turned to me and explained matter-of-factly, “Kid face paint washes off after a day or so, but adult face paint can stay for up to a year!” Good to know, son. Good to know.
Danger Beyond This Point 