Waiting in Anticipation

Well, today was another in a long line of successful day trips to my sentimental favorite city, San Francisco. But boy, was it cold! After enduring temperatures in Sacramento this week that inched their way above the century mark, it was certainly refreshing to experience temperatures in the low to mid 50s. I'm sure the wind chill brought it well below 50. My fingers were going numb by the end of the day.

But I walked and walked, and walked some more, and had a French Dip at Boudin, and multiple cups of hot chocolate, while enjoying the crisp, fresh sea air and the beautiful sights of nature in and around the marina and bay. And, well, people watching of course. There's always that too. 

Speaking of people, earlier this week I was going through old cards and letters from my previous life as an undergrad in college, enjoying the nostalgia of times gone by, and finding letters from some people who, for the life of me, I can't even remember. But I also found a couple of cards from an old friend who I have not seen or heard from in...20 years or so. I've never been good at keeping in touch with people, and frankly there are few who, looking back, I truly wish I had kept in touch with over the years. Which, I know, must sound a little bit snobbish or else just outright sad. Maybe a little of both.

But this person is one whom I do wish I had kept in touch with, as they were a prominent part of my life during a time which proved to be a great crossroads in my life, at least in retrospect. The last I had heard from them, they were married and had a kid (having proclaimed, "Look I made a person!"). And it was so, so long ago. I have no idea where they are now, what became of them, if they are still happily married and living their best life. If they even are alive (morbid thought). Or if they would even wish to hear from me again after all this time (pessimistic thought).

So, I did what any rational middle-aged man pining over his lost youth would do, in my newfound desire to rectify the mistakes of my past. I wrote her a letter. Not an email, mind you, but an honest-to-God, ink-on-paper, sealed-in-an-envelope-with-a-stamp letter. Seriously, who writes letters anymore? There was a time, before cell phones and computers and emails, where that's all we had. And we'd send these meticulously handwritten notes off into the world, trusting in an expedient and accurate delivery by postmen walking their beat through suburban neighborhoods. And in general it worked pretty well, though not always expediently. And of course it was this medium of correspondence that I was reminiscing over, so it seemed appropriate given the circumstances. 

I tell you, it's been a long time since I've written - by hand - that much. And it was only one page. Single sided. And my hand hurt afterwards. My how soft we've become!

In any case, I was somewhat limited in that the only address I had for this person was their parents' house. At least it was their parents' house 22 years ago. I have no idea if they're still there, or if anyone's there who would know them or her or could possibly pass the letter on to its intended recipient, wherever in the world she may be. But it's what I had to work with, so I figured what the heck, and sent it off into the void. It cost little for me to do. A postage stamp. Chances are, it will probably end up in someone's recycle bin. Or, if I'm lucky, it might bounce back to me as undeliverable. At least then I'd know.

But hey, what did I have to lose?

And who knows, maybe the hand of fate will smile down on me, and somehow, sometime, that letter will make it successfully to the end of its intended voyage. Stranger things have happened. Maybe not to me, but to somebody. So I've heard. And who knows, maybe, someday I'll actually receive a reply.  That's the thing that was kind of neat about mailing letters - waiting in anticipation for a reply. Checking the mailbox each day for a letter with your name on it. But again, in all likelihood, I will not see a reply. If I do...I'll be sure to update this post at the end. And thus, my dear readers can join me, waiting in anticipation for something that may never come.

You never know. At least I tried.

UPDATE: My old friend got the message. We had a nice chat and caught up a bit. Here's to finding friends from the past!

Mayday!

Usually I post a recent picture from my iPhone library on these things, but I found that this cartoon captured the essence of today better than any photos I had taken recently. It's May already? Good lord time sure flies. It seems like it goes faster the older we get. Or is that just me? 

It was actually a theme in a recent episode of This Is Us. Which, incidentally is one of the best dramas on TV. If you haven't watched it, go. Watch it now. It's amazing. But anyway, it was in a wedding toast by Randall where he describes how "the older we get, the faster time just seems to come at us." Too true.

So it's May now, and I can't seem to recall anything of great significance that happened in April. A lot of the usual - work, kid, school, soccer, repeat. Connor and I shared a lovely head cold, taking turns with Covid tests. But now it's a new month, the sniffles are almost behind us, the music is playing down the hallway as the kid has drifted off to sleep.

And hey, we're less than two months away from our family vacation, a return to Alaska on Princess Cruises. After being delayed for two years, it should be a welcome treat. And even Randall suggested that time seems to slow for important moments, like family vacations. I hope that's true. 

Meanwhile at work, much of our office staff is transferring or retiring, so we've got some new faces on board. Or coming on board soon, anyway. That will at least stir up some things, make it more interesting as we try and figure out who is doing what around there. Times change! Of course being in my 23rd year there I'm sure I'll get leaned on for training help, if even just to acquaint people with the stuff we do in music that differs from other departments. We are kind of in our own little world after all. 

I could technically retire in three years...

But first I have to get through this school year. And since it's May now, that means it's that much closer! Really, only a couple more weeks of concerts and then it winds down at Sac State. And my 23rd year will be done. 

Boy, that's a long time when you think about it...almost a quarter century! I was so young and fresh when I started. So full of life, bright eyed and eager like a puppy. Time came at me fast, and now here I am. Quite a bit older, hopefully a bit wiser, definitely more tired.

Mayday! Mayday! Nah, it will be okay. Time, come at me.