ADD LOVE TO A BLUE BIRD-SEAGULL DAY

Try and add love to every day, but it’s easier after a stormy night

Does a clear sky clear the mind?

It might, it might not, but at least it’s better than standing around in the cold, the wet, and the wind.

Add a clear beach to a clear day for perfection.

But not too clear. Just enough fog for the setting.

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I once took a picture of the loneliest man of the day while I walked around Paris.

Maybe he had someone to care about, someone who cared about him, but it didn’t look that way.

It was more an image of loss and grief, which seemed to fit right in with my opinion of the old city.

Paris has gone through things and the old man looked like he had too.

By now, we’ve all gone through some things. Some of you are starting today. It can feel lonely, that’s why we add love.

I’ve been on the lookout for sad and lonely sights after walking around Philadelphia in my younger days.

Those were Army days and I lived off base so it was almost normal. Back then my weekends were full of getting out and looking about.

I came to work on a Monday and my sergeant said, “We were driving home from church and saw you walking around on Sunday and you looked like the loneliest guy in the world.”

He was married man in his thirties with kids and stationed in his hometown. I’d bet everyone looked lonely to him the same way single people looked lonely to me when I was in my thirties with a wife and kids.

But I was single then, a twenty year old uprooted from the Southwestern Oregon coast and finding my way around.

Sergeant McCoy mistook my ‘Don’t talk to me’ street-face with lonely.

No friendly face for Center City. A fixed-scowl was a better fit for Market and Broad.

The city was full of scammers and grifters and frauds looking for their next mark and it wouldn’t be me. Read my face, pal.

Travel Partner Wife Plan

Ten years later I added love and it’s been a Blue Bird day of happiness ever since because isn’t that how marriage works?

Ten years after not smiling around Philadelphia I married a California beach girl who yearned to see as much of the world as there is to see. With an emphasis on yearning. She’s a yearner.

I felt well-traveled after setting up apartments in Philly, Eugene, Brooklyn, and Portland with a few stops in between. (I went to the Brooklyn utilities to get my electricity turned on in my name and met a warlock clerk all inked up and bejeweled in the office. I wore a wary wtf face.)

I’d seen plenty and my wife wanted to see more. She wanted to go where people didn’t speak English.

Our first trip together was England. She had family there. I couldn’t understand them any more than I can a Texan.

The hardest thing to understand was a tweeky cousin with a sniffy nose who called his mother a “Stupid Fat Cow.” Her feelings were hurt. My wife corrected him.

He went off on my wife later, calling her names and storming off. He left before we had a chance to talk together, before I could explain about adding love to things.

The rest of the family was a joy.

They were welcoming and caring and invited a couple with large children into their homes. I was the largest in the group at 6’3″, 220 more or less. Okay, more.

We grew used to small spaces and small beds and small cars in a small but All-World nation.

For six weeks.

We called it the ‘Trip Of A Lifetime’ which I took to mean we were through traveling. Turns out I was wrong.

Every trip is a ‘Once In A Lifetime’ event. Even more when it’s to the Oregon coast and Cannon Beach.

A Golden Girl To Add Love

On the right day, on the right beach, you’ll see women who stands out.

Lonely men may see them and regret not having someone in their life because they didn’t look far enough into the future.

If they had, they’d know more about vision.

Visionaries are easier to see when they wear Columbia Maritime Museum jackets.

On a cold cloudy day I got an early start down the beach and saw this coming at me when I made the turn back.

It started as a speck of gold and then the glow started. A happy wife, happy life, glow. She’s shining.

After thirty-six straight years without a break to sort-things-out, to re-think, or question-our-choices, we talk about different things than we used to.

Back then it was plans for the future with kids and housing and schools and volunteering and finding the right place to do it all.

Uncertainty And Questions

We answered all of those questions and more over the years, gave ourselves a good report card, and we still talk about the future.

(Pro Tip: talking about the future never ends with the right person.)

“If I die first I want you to re-marry,” she said.

“Thank you, dear, but once was more than enough for me.”

“But I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Was I lonely when you first met me? When you and your boyfriend used to double date with me and my girlfriends?”

“I was the lonely one back then.”

“So we got married and you graduated to miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Then why are we talking about you dying?”

“I like to make plans. You know that.”

“So you’re planning on my next wife? Should I pick one of your single friends?”

“I just don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I’d only be lonely for you. Let’s have a kiss.”

“Maybe we should get a dog.”

“A beach dog? I see one now. Watch that wave add love.”

“It couldn’t add love for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m all loved up with you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Enough to get a dog?”