I'm Gonna Be A Grandfather!
Well it's official, I am going to be a grandfather everyone, and I have to say I am even more excited than I imagined I would be! There are some skeptics who will argue, "Derek, in order for a person to become a grandparent they must first have a kid who must then also have at least one kid." To which I would reply: "A. "Kids" are what goats have. And B. It's true actually having grandchildren is a large part of being a grandparent; HOWEVER, an even more important part of grandfatherness is the having and telling stories." To which the skeptics would have no choice but bow thier pride in humble defeat.
So if we are weakly basing grandfather status on the simple and obvious physical aspects, then it's true I fall short. On the other hand, if we are more completely and not so superficially considering the grandparent figure as one with incredibly relevant and entertaining stories, then I may well be more of a grandfather than some of your own biological grandparents.
It might be the first time my round-the-world trip really sunk in. I had been back in the States for about a week and was visiting some recent Flagstafrican transplants on Vashon Island, just outside of Seattle. My friends, the Wilks, have three small children who were walking us down a beautiful green path to a park overlooking the Sound. At one point, my other friend (dc) who flew to Portland to drive back with me, was explaing to the young boy (5 yrs) how I had ridden an elephant. Which in turn opened up a disbelieving can of questions.
I explained how an elephant would rock back and forth as it walked. How it would scratch its leathery skin on the rough bark of tree trunks. How I would carry bananas to reward an eager trunk for being well behaved. I explained what it was like to pet a tiger, the ins and outs of camel riding, and what baby monkeys are like. Then at the peak of story time, I saw a different grandfather telling one of many cool stories to an amazed little redheaded grandson.
That's when I realized something big had just happened. Funny how it takes a five year old boy to make things snap into place, to realize just how larger than life an elephant is, or how crazy monkeys are, or how wirery the hair of a camel is. Sometimes all it takes is a 5 year old reminder to realize just how big and cool this amazing world is. And I'll tell you what else is cool, especially when you have grandparents as sweet as mine, is realizing that at the tender age of 29 you are in pretty much every way but one that you are a grandfather. I've heard it said before that being a grandparent is even better than being a parent, and while I've never actually been a parent, I gotta agree.
How Much You Wanna Bet?
Two days ago I set a personal 5-month record for the most consecutive nights (5) in a single place. Exactly one week ago a little green honda with a red-headed driver climbed a hill, turned a corner, and at long last entered the city they left just under 5 months earlier. Flagstaff, Arizona. The crisp, sun touched mountain town I call home. Home. Now there's a term I haven't used in a while, except in a distant day dream. But now believe it or not here I am. And I have to tell you, it feels pretty good.
I was happy to find that in my time away, besides a couple new Starbucks, bridge and walkway, Flagstaff has stayed pretty well the same. The bicyclists, the hippies, the grungy riff-raff and studded-collar pets lingering on the edges of the town square. A comforting sight. When you've been working your way west for several months, averaging only two nights in a single place, the very thing you want most is normality. Even if that normality is an unbathed, earth friendly folk. It's nice.
As for me, I've spent the better part of the past week simply settling. Sleeping, unpacking, reintroducing myself to the cities coffee shops, digging through boxes I mailed home along the way, and giving slideshow presentations. Not to mention going though a mountain of mail, which leads me to this blog's story and a rich new mystery.
For anyone new to the blog, I'll need to refer you to a previous post entered on August 25, titled: "£100 Says 150 Million". It's a heart warming story of a young man losing a bet but winning a eccentric old friend. And now, the rest of the story. You know of the old man, you know the bet and that there are 91 million people in Mexico. You'll also remember the envelope filled with a mysterious promise of the future.
Here's a few things I didn't mention: 1. The older gentleman had a date that evening around 8pm. 2. The perceptive fellow was impressed enough with me to try to set me up with a date of my own by introducing me to a couple of random ladies as we walked to the bookstore. 3. After we settled our bets, and I signed my address to an intriguing envelope, he invited me to grab a drink before he met his date. My schedule just happened to be open so I agreed and he told me to meet him at a certain London intersection.
Well, I guess I shouldn't have assumed there would be a clear meeting spot at the intersection of two major streets in city like London at rush hour... because there wasn't. So after wandering from corner to corner for 45 minutes, I decided to proceed with my night and a show. I never saw the eccentric gentleman. Rather, I continued my travels throughout Europe and eventually returned home where one day as I dug through a mountain of mail I happened upon an envelope addressed to myself, with no return address and handwriting just like my own... Yes,the envelope!
However, instead of a fat wad of cash as one might foolishly hope, I found the following note penned on a flower covered card:
Hello Derek,
Love to you and your family. Sad, I didn't see you last night, too many people at the underground station. Your friend was very sad when I told them. Enjoy the beautiful country. He said you are very charming.
Love DinaAnd now you know the rest of the story. Soooo... what do you think? Please feel free to share any ideas, because I definitely don't know what to make of it. In case you are wondering, no, the guy's name was not "Dina". Who exactly Dina is, I bet will remain a mystery. In fact, the note will probably forever remain a mystery as well. Now I not one for betting, but I can say I'm about 90% sure I will never see that £100 again. Any takers?
