I’m at a picnic table in a park just watching the river go by. I am waiting for the inevitable rendezvous. If I sit there, they will come. If I appear to be just sitting, not listening to music or reading a book, people will stop by to chat.
They Will Come.
There’s the 40’s man who stops by the grill near the picnic bench where I am sitting and begins to talk about his life. For the next hour I listen. This guy can TALK. His girl friend threw him out; he isn’t working right now even though he’s a union welder. Years ago he used to travel with a group of male dancers. In detail he describes to me an amorous incident after one of the groups performances. It involved a young woman, a grassy isolated place and an evening in Hawaii. According to him, It was great!
Why is this man telling an eighty-three year-old stranger about his love-life of years ago?
Why did his latest girl-friend throw him out? He’s living in his car and grilling cheap sausages from Jewel. I often wonder what has happened to this guy. My quick take on him is that he’s a narcissist. I told him that I am priest. It didn’t register. He was all turned -in on himself. He eats his sausages (no buns) and leaves me.
Later, I’m still sitting at the picnic table when two Mormon missionary elders try to recruit me but lose interest when I raise my right hand and a rosary dangles from it.
A guy in his thirties rides up to me on a bike as I”m sitting on my bench. Says that he was living in his car but he just got a job and is staying in a motel. He needs five dollars for some food. I give it to him and he rides off.
An elderly man on a yellow motor scooter with the same name as my father stops by for a quick chat. Later, a gruffy, dour hulky guy roars up on his motorcycle. Never gets off the idling ‘cycle. Never says “Hi.”Just begins ranting about a female politician. No room for a word from me. He doesn’t stop for long, thank God.
A big, gawky teenager stops near me on his dirt bike to yell to some friends just above him on their bikes who are riding on the old Illinois – Michigan Canal river trail that he’ll take the informal path a few feet from the Illinois. It’s just after school. He’s going home but stops to greet me. I’m eating a Big Mack lunch which comes with fries that I usually feed to the squaking gulls. I ask him if he eats fries. He loves fries. I give him mine. He grabs the fries, starts down the slope, stumbles and just about falls over his bike but recovers and waves bye.
No, these rendezvous did not happen on the same day. I’ve clumped them together to give you an idea of why I sit down at the river, waiting. They will come.
One man said to me,”Isn’t it amazing that the creator of the Universe Who designed all this wants to have a relationship with me?”
It sure is amazing! He comes and speaks to me in many ways, I just try to listen.