December 9, 2023- “Now, it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the things you can’t get.”-Don Henley and Glenn Frey, “Desperado“.

Two ladies, looking like twins, focused their attention on the titular vessel, and the fresh-cut flowers within. The crystalline surface, and the shimmering blue leaves, take up a small space on the bar at Rafter 11, yet for those ten minutes, the vase dominated the room. A fine singer, named Duane, was belting out covers of songs from the ’50s (Fly Me to The Moon) to the 2000s (Nothing Compares 2 U), yet for that brief time, his efforts were background noise.

The ladies, who were sitting at the bar with my friend, Harry, said they had adopted the older gentleman-a fine thing, as he thrives on the friendships the rest of us regulars offer him at Rafter. Turns out, they themselves have been best friends for 35 years, which they said in response to my observing that they looked like twins. Proximity can rub similarity off on people- something Penny noted, years ago, when we started to ape one another’s habits and proclivities. These ladies were both bleach blondes and about the same height. They dressed just differently enough from one another to be distinctive, and there was enough difference in their facial features to hint at fraternal, rather than identical, twinship. As it happened, though, they were each from a different coast.

When they left, my attention went back to Duane’s music, especially as his vocals pretty much drowned out anything Harry was trying to convey. My older friend left, as he was feeling the day was spent. Duane sang several songs that brought thoughts of my new friend, far away, but ever in my heart and mind. Desperado was among them.

That raised the thoughts of gratitude-or its opposite. I am very much immersed in the former: I have been blessed, a thousand times or more, by all the friends who have come into my life, especially since 2011, and before that, by the woman who gave the best years of her life to me, and whose spirit still spurs me on. There are women and men fifty and older, who are like siblings. There are younger adults, from older teens to forty-somethings, who are like my beloved children. One and all, no one is going to hurt or impugn any of them, in my presence, without a swift rejoinder. A few women from the first group have expressed romantic love for me, and while I haven’t felt the same towards them, their well-being is of high importance.

I am grateful for all the fine things that have been laid upon my table-daily experiences, far and wide as well as local; vivid and exciting, as well as quiet and mundane. I am grateful for the challenges, which have led to refinement of some rough edges. I am grateful for the first that was laid upon my table-the deep love of supremely committed parents and the sibling love that has branched from that. I am grateful that the child we raised is a full-grown, clear-headed man, and happily-married. Now, I am grateful for the friendship of a lady far away, and all the encouragement I feel from the small coterie to which she belongs.

We’ll see where it leads.