It's been a busy weekend. Took one bear to the airport Saturday morning bright and early and took another yesterday morning bright and early. I picked a lady I met in a Chord Progression Class a week ago and drove her to the Saturday morning Bluegrass Meetup group in Orange County and then brought her back. Had a nice chat. She plays fiddle and mandolin, just relocated from San Francisco for a job here. I'm wondering why on earth anyone would get into a car with a strange guy and ride 50 miles with him when she's just met him. Musicians are a whole 'nother type of people. She was nice, she played the fiddle really well. So I invited her to sit in with the Jug Band on Friday night, warning her that the average age of the group was about sixty. We just lost our mandolin player. The yoga teacher Sunday morning gave me a Thank You note, cause I guess I may have been the only one in all her classes to give her a little Christmas gift. (Not much really, my book and a recycled gift of hot chocolate which I can't drink) In my youth, I would have probably thought that these women might be interested in me. Now that I'm old and sagging, I think I've turned into the father that everyone wanted.
More than likely both women had hippie fathers and I am certainly that. Same tribes recognize each other easily for some reason.
I was warned at twenty by a shrink I knew well. He said that everyone will be relating to you as if you are a parent, because of the physical differences. The attitude really works quite successfully in a business setting, as long as you don't say it out loud. But it's my fathering skills: make them laugh and then help them do what they want to do.
The reference is from "The Princess Bride" if you haven't seen it. The "good Father" that's performing the marriage has a horrible lisp.
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