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Sunday, 27 October 2002
Crop circles ::
B and I walked past the East/West Bookstore in downtown Mountain View after dinner last night. I pointed out a sign in the window promoting something along the lines of “Soul Imaging,” and B told me about some who believe that the electromagnetic pulse of a nuclear explosion destroys souls. Then he started talking about crop circles. A few minutes later, we’d turned back and passed the East/West Bookstore again, stopped to look at the books in the window, and I saw one on crop circles. I asked if he’d seen it when we passed before, and he said “no!” and laughed at the coincidence. Maybe he’d seen the book out of the corner of his eye, going past it 10 minutes earlier, though it wasn’t particularly large or well-lit.
In our wakes... ::
Last weekend, when I checked in at my SoHo bed and breakfast, B, the proprietress was talking with K, a young friend, about her acting aspirations, and I joined the conversation. K talked about an inspiration she’d had some time ago, and had been so excited about it she’d woken up her then-boyfriend to tell him about it. He’d been thoroughly unimpressed, and that completely deflated her; she let go of the idea, and thus also the dream she’d been pursuing. B had been trying to tell K that things don’t always work out the way we think they’re going to, but they still have a way of working out. I offered one of my occasional interjections into their conversation, without much thought, “so, why don’t you do something now with that idea you had?” K’s face lit up for a moment and then the conversation took another path. K thanked me earnestly when she left and I just took it as a polite thanks for the general encouragement. ...