Where's Waldo?

Whoa.

It's been another wonderfully weird Wednesday.

I woke up with Jonathon Coulton's "I Feel Fantastic" stuck in my head.

As usual, I left the house in the dark and watched the sun come up along the way. I found a new, slightly less terrifying route to work and was feeling good by the time I was packed up and on my way to the market site. When I got there, I sure I was in the wrong place... or time. The folks on either side of me were both gone and so I was left to set up my little on my own, surrounded by conspicuous nothingness in an otherwise populated market. Eventually a new vendor showed up and temporarily took the space next to mine, giving me some cover and someone to talk to.

As it turns out, she is one of the most interesting people I've met. Her organic orchard is just blocks from my childhood home(not too surprising, as I was surrounded by orchards). I may have trespassed through her land on my bike as a kid. We talked for the first couple hours about the age-travel continuum, the city's green line, the changing face of our little city, the merits and drawbacks of Chico, Los Angeles, and Lincoln City, oranges, eggplants, and anything else we could think of.

As with most market conversations, ours ebbed and flowed as customers, friends, and actual work necessitated. One such variable was the market director, Charles*. Before today, the longest conversation we've share lasted all of two sentences. Today, we discussed, at length, qualities desired and required in elected officials, the current status of the city council, benefits and social ramifications of travel, age, public interest vs private/business objectives, government's role in its citizens affairs, friendship in theory and practice, and what to do about it all. He came by three times for what he called, with humor and humility, "installments of the wisdom of Charles Clark."

Also at the market today: an internal almond vs. a'mon' debate, pondering inexplicable facial hair, something which cause me to note "never stand in the sky", and a rare "cheer" from a satisfied customer.

I should probably point out that Wednesdays traditionally start early and follow sleepless Tuesdays, so my state of mind starts out kind of wobbly and deteriorates from there.


After work, a quick nap, a long shower, and some restorative music, I headed into town for a meeting. This included riding around in circles to kill time and build up some mental acuity. I got to the voluntneer meeting and soon found out it was the wrong one, I needn't show up for another hour. I seized the opportunity to meander downtown in search of much needed food: a quest which, of course, brought me to the bookstore. And then a quick gyro. Back at the meeting, take two, I ended up talking to the leader (once again covering politics, the city, travel, and my family) for all our free time.

On the way home, I found myself in that special place where my mind is going in twelve different directions, but my consciousness is stuck in traffic.

I rode through the park. And found a deer.

I may still be asleep.




*Random side note: I have a constant and inexplicable urge to refer to him as "Chuckie".