Play Date

"By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations. Children, who play life, discern its true law." - Henry David Thoreau

Ok, I thought. No problem.

I woke up today with the attitude to play life. I didn't have to work all day, and I figured I would do my best to play. Check my phone to see what time it is. There's a text message: "Can you work for me today? 11:15." Ok. Sure. I need the money so I try to say yes every time someone graciously proffers their shift.

I stop at the local cafe and grab a breakfast sandwich on my way to the bustop. "Regular sandwich?" Yep. "Wheat toast? Cheddar cheese. American bacon. Eggs over, no, scrambled, right?" Wait. Make it Irish bacon. "Oh, really? Trying something new?" Today I am. I walk outside and cross the little side street to the bustop. Wow. It's beautiful today. The same girl from yesterday sat silently, sipping her Starbucks iced coffee. Yesterday, I took the 268 to the train station. I got a phone call and couldn't cross the overpass to the train deck without drowning out the sound coming from the small earpiece connected to my phone. I waited by the elevators next to the bus bay. She took the 287. It takes longer to get there. I finished my phone call and walked through the open elevator door. She was there. I asked if she took the 287. "Yeah." I told her she could take the 268 and get there a little quicker. "268? Ok." She sat there still sipping her coffee. We exchange pleasantries. The sigh of the bus braking at the four-way stop causes us to both stand and walk to the curb. "The 268, will take me to train station?" I hadn't noticed her accent yesterday. Yes, it will. I'll show you where we get off.

Exit at Halstead and Foothill. Cross to the southside of Foothill where the elevators to the overpass reside. Did you have breakfast? I have half a sandwich left if you're hungry? "No, thank you. I already eat at home." I unfold the tin foil protecting my half egg, cheddar cheese and Irish bacon beakfast sandwich. 'Maybe some homeless person will be hungry.' Maybe I should wait. Nope. No homeless. The train takes me to DelMar station. My stop for work. I wonder what wonderful things will come my way for my attempted feeding people good deed efforts.

$75. Two hours work. Pretty good. Thank you. "Extra. This extra." This tuna salad? "Ya. Caesar too." Esta basura? "Si." Esta basura por mi boca. "Whatever." Cool. Free lunch.

It's so beautiful today. Just hot enough. Clear blue sky. You could see the moon this morning around 9am. Half of it, anyway. Just about half way up in the southwest sky. This afternoon though. Wow. I don't feel like going home yet. I walk around town and up to the park. It's so perfect outside. I should stop by the pub to see if I know anyone working. Hey! "What are you doing here?!" I just took a chance. "I have to go bake a cake, wanna come help?" I almost say no, but I remembered that I'm playing. Sure. Why not?

We shop for a Funfetti cake mix. I don't even know what that means. We buy Funfetti and Red Velvet. "I wanna make a layer cake." Cool. "What do you think for icing? I like this Creamy Vanilla." I really have no idea. "Excuse me", she says. We both look. "This Rainbow Pleasure goes really well with Funfetti." Ok. We get it.

"I can't tell if these are lumps in the mix or Funfetti." I can help whip. I do. We delve into life and where we each are in this moment. We speak at length about our journeys since last we met. It's been some time. I have an idea. I have to learn to teach something that I believe will aid you in your path right now. You need to learn this exact thing I need to learn to teach. I can help you. You can help me. Will you do this with me? "Yes. Absolutely." That's so cool. I have been putting this off for too long. This feels right. I like it. This is exciting. Hey there's a soccer ball in the yard. Let's go kick it around. "It's not ours." Ya, but it's in your yard, and if we go out and play, maybe the kids whose ball it is will come out, and then we can invite them to play with us, and then we could have a game on the front lawn, or if they want the ball back, we give it to them, and we come back inside. "Noooo. I don't think so." Come on! It will be like when we were kids, and we can take our shoes and socks off and play barefoot in the grass, and it'll be fun, and we can be like kids. Come on! Come on! "Noooo." 15 minutes! Ok, ok, 10 minutes. Just 10 minutes, it'll be great. Come on! "Ok. 10 minutes."

She kicks it into the street. Hey, remember that time, when we were kids, and I almost got ran over by a car because I chased a ball you kicked into the street? My shoulder smashes her nose. We fall to the ground laughing. "Hey! Remember that time, when we were kids, and you smashed you shoulder into my nose and broke it?" An hour later, I leave Henry, Maddy, Evan and Seth to play in the plastic castle slide. Henry had enough soccer he said. I was way to big for the plastic castle slide. I walk inside. The hardwood floor feels good on my bare feet. She had just finished showering for work. "I'll be ready to leave in a few minutes." Ok. No problem. Looking through the living room window and through the bushes guarding the front porch, I see Henry playing soccer with his dad. Hey. He said he was tired. I want, for a moment, to feel a little hurt. 'That's his dad. Maybe his dad hasn't played with him in some time. Maybe you helped bring a boy and his father closer today by playing soccer with his son.' I like that story. Even if they do regularly play together. I like both stories.

A tiny black blur jumps and finds itself in my lap. Petey. Too much energy with this little Chihauhau and Miniture Pincher mix. "Throw the toy! Throw the toy!" Ok, Petey. Go get it. I hurl some red fuzzy thing to the opposite end of the room. Sit. Good boy. Go get it. Drop it. Good boy. Sit. Good boy! Go get it. Time after time after time. She gives me a look of I'm impressed. Does he know these commands? "No." Well, you should totally train this dog. He's really smart. We have to go.

Just drop me off in town. I want to walk the rest of the way. I love you. Let's talk on Sunday and arrange the hikes. "Ok. Love you too." The sun sets the sky to a delicate orange. Wow. It's gorgeous tonight. I say a prayer for a little marketable phraseology magic. Three candidates throw their hats. Nice. I like them. I pause to send a text to those involved. I don't want to miss a step of this walk. Glad I didn't. The mountains are so enticing. Thank you for showing me how wonderful it is to have this home. A 30 gallon forest green bucket on its side grabs my attention. Free wood. It lies against the curb as if the wood had made some valiant attempt at escape, but after obtaining its freedom, realized it had nowhere to go. That's going to be hard to see when it gets dark. I saw the lady of that house in her yard. Maybe I should say something. No. That will be weird. She might get scared. 'Are you playing today, or not?' Yes. 'Well, are you going to come this far today, and have this much fun and not finish it? Honor you intution and it will come around more often.' Ok. I go back. I explain that I'm playing a game today of honoring my intuition. Can I move the wood onto the curb? I think someone in a car would have trouble seeing it in the dark. I'll do it for you. I just wanted to make sure it was ok. "Sure. I guess." She was hesitant. She thinks I'm weird. I am sure of it. I would think I was weird right now. I stack the pile neatly on the curb and lie the bucket back on its side so the label Free Wood stays right side up. "Thank you." Your welcome. Have a good night. I resume my walk home. I smile. Today is so much fun.

My money? Still not figured out. Things hang about, awaiting further attention. However, I have accomplished all that can be accomplished for today. I am certainly proud of that. I feel fantastic. Isn't life really about achieving this feeling? Interesting. It didn't cost a dime. I just played.