Mile Nerd

Seeing Stars

Can you remember the last time your mind was blown…

When meeting someone new?

Our little worlds collide with people each day. Quick encounters. Blink and they’re gone. Most of these strangers are friendly enough. A few make us smile. Maybe even laugh…

But when was the last time a “collision” blew your mind?   

Those faces all blur together, don’t they? One after the next. Would’ve been hard to think of the last stranger who stuck in my head…

Until last week.

Just a regular day. Pulling up at home. Turning off the engine. Spotting an old Persian lady with her Trader Joe’s bag in one hand. White cane in the other. Walking carefully down the road…

Hold on.

She’s blind??

See, I’ve been roaming these streets for the last 20 years and have NEVER seen a blind person on them. Literally not once. Tough terrain, to put it mildly. I don’t even get how someone could do it here. Fast-moving cars, tons of dogs, and super damaged sidewalks. If this neighborhood was a ski slope? Double black diamond. Even with both eyes intact, I’ve stumbled more times than I can count.

She looks to be struggling…

As I exit my car, she says “hello” into the void. Kind of just speaking to the darkness. In case someone is there, I guess.

Well, good timing…

I respond with a hello and walk over.

She asks if this is Ventura Boulevard and I say, “No, it’s Orion.” She looks bummed about that. But I’m locked into Careful Mode. Y’know, in case she’s crazy. We’re in the big city, after all. Then I look down at her small frame struggling with a bag of groceries. Come on, man. Get it together. She’s just old, blind, and turned around.

I ask where she’s heading.

It’s only a few streets away in the same neighborhood. We talk for a minute. I figure, fine, lemme ask if she wants a ride. Even though I vowed decades ago to never do that again. Had a weird experience in West Virginia with the wrong stranger. But take off the jaded guy armor for one second, dude. Just lower the drawbridge. What’s a blind old lady gonna do? I face way more danger each day from Jimmy, the neighbor’s dog.  

She asks:
“Could you walk me back to Hayvenhurst?”

Apparently, the route is easy from that intersection. I guess it’s where she steps off the bus. Easy to get spun around in that spot. She says it happened once before. Ok, wait, I’m still stuck on HOW DOES SHE TAKE A BUS? To go grocery shopping? With no vision.

I mean, what does she do when she gets there??

We start walking down to Hayvenhurst. She grabs my hand for some guidance. Strangers two minutes ago. Now holding hands. Looks like we’re in this together now. I don’t even hold hands with my closest friends. It’s actually kind of nice. My palms do get a bit sweaty as she stumbles on a broken piece of sidewalk. Oops. Forgot I’m supposed to be the one on lookout duty. Because, again, I can’t seem to grasp the fact that everything in front of her is pitch black. Says she prefers walking in the street. Sidewalks are trickier. I’m locked in now. There’s not gonna be any more stumbling.

This lady chats me up the entire way. With gusto. Asks if I just got home from work. Wants to hear about what I do. Says she can look me up by “talking into” her phone to find stuff online. I guess everything for her must be voice activated. Me? I’d probably be in the fetal position without my sense of sight. Not her. Just chatting away. Laughing on our stroll. I’m watching for all the potential danger in our terrain. Wondering how she does all the little things each day.

What is it, a thousand times more difficult? A million?

She has a perky type of spirit. Like a warm breeze of outgoing friendliness. I ask about the vision. Her retina deteriorated. Been blind for the last 23 years. Only sees minor stuff with shadows. Apparently, she’s staying around here to help a friend who’s even older.

Wait, this isn’t even her neighborhood??

How is she doing any of this???

We arrive at Hayvenhurst. She assures me that it’s all good from here. Knows the way home. I watch her move down the sidewalk…still blown away by the reality of it. Every single day. No removing a blindfold to get back to “normal.” I can’t help but notice this suddenly terrifying disaster of a sidewalk. Strangers ten minutes ago. Now worried about terrain.

I walk back home. And immediately jump in the car with my girlfriend Linda. Filling her in. Realizing it’s 95 degrees outside…and I just took off on a blind lady.

We find our way back to her. I hop out and ask if she’s doing ok. Again, the situation is surreal for me. But just another day for her. She says my name to confirm it’s me because, literally, I’m a voice in the dark.

Within seconds, I’m laughing because this lady is just so spunky. It’s a full-on yappy conversation again. She accepts the ride. I hop in the back. This confuses her for a second because it’s two of us in here. Imagine that. To not even know who’s sitting in the car she entered. Destination is just a couple streets away from here. It’s very chatty. A fun minute or two until we get there. At one point, a couple of tears roll out of her eye. She says, “That is a happy tear. Because I’m glad to meet you.”

Getting her home safely, we say goodbye. Days pass. I settle back in my old routine. And, yet, this “collision” with a stranger still lingers. Not a disposable interaction like so many. I can’t help but wonder how she’s doing.

“When was the last time a collision blew your mind?”

It was just last week.

A stranger held my hand and made me laugh…

I worried about her…

Wanted to know her story…

And will continue to hope she’s ok.

Costume Change

Something’s on my mind. Not a fact. Just an honest question.

Could it be possible that I’m actually…a tiny bit…famous?

Weird question. Maybe off-putting? My fault. I really don’t want to offend you. It makes me sad when people get upset. Look, I know I’m not a movie star. Or some kind of great athlete. So, let’s not call it “famous.” But maybe…a little recognizable?

Here’s the thing:

I get these cool reactions from strangers. Happens ALL the time. Almost. Every. Day. We can’t pretend it doesn’t exist. So, forgive me if this sounds like bragging. Again, please don’t get mad. I really don’t know how else to put it – a lot of people DO come up to me. And, if we’re being totally honest…

I kind of love it.

Lemme break down the pattern. Out minding my own business. Looking for food or whatever. And then I meet eyes with a total stranger. They light up. Almost as if they know me. Women, in particular. Not exactly the worst part of my day. Sometimes they’ll just smile. Often, they linger to talk for a while. You might be wondering…am I looking my best? Nope. Usually just dirty and out for a walk. But. It. Doesn’t. Matter. The attention keeps coming.   

I know this sounds like bragging.

Trust me. Totally not the case. Let’s run through the list. I’m overweight. Gassy. Apparently, I even drool when sleeping. And my breath? Not always minty fresh. Which is EXACTLY my point. This is not an awesome list of traits. Almost like nothing stops people from being excited to see me.

Oh yeah, one more. Don’t get me started on what it’s like when I’m hungry. Oof. Just a total pain in the butt. I get moody. Almost like nothing exists in the world beyond my next meal.

So, you’ve heard actual celebrities talk about what it’s like to get approached. How lame it is? Right? Well, lean in closely and I’ll tell you the truth…

It’s the best.

Now, I’m not a celebrity. And, at times, I wonder if I’ve landed in some cool/unique crack in the universe. Kind of a like a black hole – but an awesome one. Is life perfect? Of course not. You should see how many squirrels are tearing up my yard as we speak. Annoying. Or how about society? Are human beings perfect?  

Nope.

I mean, what’s with ALL the drama? So unnecessary. Even the “important” things like jobs and money? All of it is just randomness that someone made up along the way. But there’s a flip side. Humans do invent some pretty cool stuff too…

When’s the last time you really stopped for a second to appreciate something simple? Like cars. Seems like everyone drives them. But I remain in TOTAL awe. Wanna do a fun experiment today? Roll down your windows. Hit a long stretch of open road. And feel that breeze. Really feel it. Get lost in the bliss.

Slice of heaven, if you ask me.

Sure, sometimes it feels like I live for the weekends. Gets a bit lonely during the workday. But that’s why I try to make the most of holidays. Hanging out. All the little things. Like tossing a ball around with the best people in the world. My family.

Maybe some occasions are a bit too much…

Like, do we really need to light fireworks for everything? So excessive. Thanksgiving is more my speed. Just a big ol’ pile of turkey and a long nap on the couch. Can’t wait for that chill time. But before it arrives…

We endure my least favorite holiday…

The complete and total mess in late October.

I mean, come on.

Costumes? Really?

Makes no sense why anyone would call it fun. Not my thing at all. Ok, maybe I’m being cranky. But it feels weird having all that stuff on me. So uncomfortable. And if we’re being totally honest? I do this crazy thing. Kind of like…I just freeze. Embarrassing to say out loud. Not sure why I do that. But it’s almost like my brain clicks off. Then I get motionless.

Oh boy, here they come now.

They want me to try on costumes?

Now? Already?

Why would they do this to me????

OH BOY, THEY’RE TRYING TO PUT IT ON.

Ok, gotta run.

AHHHHH IT’S ON ME!!!!!!!!!!! I’M TRAPPED!!!!!!!!!!

Aaaaaand…

Totally frozen.

Gap Season

I stare at walls for hours. Weeping softly in my beer.

Needing honks at every stoplight

So that I’ll put my car in gear.

No halfcourt shot from Curry. Oh, Mahomes where have you gone?

On CBS…a comedy

Enough of you, Vince Vaughn.

Basketball is over. And, still, football isn’t close.

All crackheads need a daily fix

IT’S 2 MONTHS TIL MY NEXT DOSE!

You think I need more balance. Or perhaps a breath?

My oxygen is from the games

Please see: Walter White + meth.

Long. This sports hiatus. I float through space and time.

What is life outside the seasons? 

A search for reason or some rhyme.

I phone my friend for guidance. To help me with the pain.

Call drops. A bad connection.

Must be weather, maybe rain?

He shows up at my doorstep. Looks weary and quite old.

While trembling hard, he hugs me tight

So frigid. Feels ice cold.

Dead-eyed, with just a whisper, he mumbles in a haze:

“Season kicks off with the Eagles…

…still another 60 days.”

My rugged friend, a bulldog. But now more like a pup.

I push him back, then ask with force:

“WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. A. WORLD. CUP?”

We walk for miles in silence. Blank stares of fallen men.

Both are shattered and heartbroken…

Surely never whole again.

Only soccer and lame baseball. Those crumbs are not a meal.

Then a miracle, it lifts us…

I hear a crowd begin to squeal.

Stadium? Behind those trees! Could it really be?

The spunkiness inside me lives…

We sprint ahead to see.

I’ll be rowdy once again! A wild and crazy menace!

All my passion as a fan is back…

(Oh, wait, I caught a glimpse)

This shit is only tennis.

The Golden Girls

Heart surgery for my mom. She needed some caretaking and we’ve been taking shifts. I’m here now. All is well.

Oh, also…

This is my 15^th straight night in West Virginia.

Fifteen.

I mean, it’s possible I’ve lost track of days.

Because, really, what is time anymore?

Impossible to measure when people are this friendly.

Over here, a “quick” conversation can range from 45 minutes to no-memories-of-a-time-before-this-chat.

Earlier today, I ran into a neighbor at the grocery store. Asked about my mom. We only parted ways because her ice cream started melting. Maybe that’s the cue to say goodbye in West Virginia?

But, yeah, it’s a nice way of life.

For example…

Wanna guess how many Get Well cards are on this mantle? Good luck. Can’t even see the mantle anymore. Just looks like a massive pile of good wishes floating on the wall. Even Rain Man would need a calculator.  

Each night brings a new set of friendly visitors. A parade of warm vibes. Tonight, Darlene and Carol will be a bit younger than the usual crowd. And, by that, I mean slightly closer to 70 than 80. No doubt they’ll be delightful. It’s a live stage version of The Golden Girls here each night.

The doorbell rings.

Darlene comes in like she was shot out of a cannon. Pulls me in for a giant hug. As if reuniting with her oldest friend. The kind of hug you get when it’s been way too long.

We just met.

Carol holds her arms out. She says:
“Where’s my hug? Oh, are they free – ok I’ll take two!”

Everyone cracks up.

The (tea) party is on.

They sit down for chai. Wait. Darlene has some juicy gossip. She fixed her daughter up with an amazing guy? My mom looks VERY intrigued. Haven’t seen her this alert since the two-hug joke. Ah, this matchmaking story took place during pickleball?

Unfortunate note:
I’ve entered into a coma. Please give me a moment. My body’s response is to go limp and unconscious when hearing the word “pickleball.”  

Ok, back to life. I hear Darlene talking about how Indian food is much harder to cook. Her daughter and pickleball guy just follow simple recipes.

Carol:
“I don’t like to cook.”

Darlene:
“But you’re so great in the kitchen!”

Carol:
“Doesn’t mean I like it in there.”

The room cracks up again.

Oh, that Carol!

Random thought:
How safe is it to consume chai at this speed?

Darlene has a granddaughter. I guess she’s a backup dancer for Beyonce. They ask if I know her. Which is such a West Virginia question. Also, are they referring to Beyonce or the daughter?

(This confusion might be a “me” problem. I don’t actually know what day of the week it is right now)

They move on to the topic of heart blockage stuff. But that’s lame. So, they pivot quickly…

It seems Carol adopted her kids. We’re talking decades ago. Normally, there wouldn’t be much follow-up on that subject. But this is West Virginia. Darlene and my mom want to know ALL the details. When did she tell the kids? How did that conversation go? To be honest, it’s quite a story.

Darlene smiles warmly and says:
“We’ve really missed this. Haven’t had chai with you in almost a year. Can you believe that?”

Nobody can believe it.

By my count, this is now their third round of chai. Possibly fourth. With no signs of slowing. I add some cookies to the heaping pile of snacks. Carol winks at me.

I’m unsure how to react.

A strange giggle comes out of my mouth.  

They exclaim this will probably be their dinner. Carol says she needs to lose weight because her pants are too tight. Waits for the response. Too late. We’re on to the next topic…

Mom asks if they’ve seen any movies recently. Says The Devil Wears Prada is out. Carol claims to have watched it already.

Mom responds, “No, there’s a sequel.”

A debate ensues.

Plot points are shared.

I’m pretty sure all three of them are talking about different Meryl Streep movies.

With that issue “resolved,” mom asks what’s going on with this country. Carol is NOT happy about gas prices. Takes a swig of chai. Tries to calm down. Apparently, copious amounts of caffeine is good for relaxation.  

Someone’s phone rings.

Either that or a bomb just went off.

Is there an unwritten rule? As humans get older…do phone ringers need to reach new levels of volume? Is that a law? We’ve got sounds at this table I didn’t even know an iPhone could produce.

On the line is Darlene’s daughter (Tracy).

Darlene tries to “click on the Facetime.” Wants her daughter to see their tea party. Can’t find the button.

Tracy:
“Mom, I’m on the interstate.”

Some good news. My ears have recovered from the sonic boom trauma of that ringer. Wait, why did it sound like an old rotary phone? How’s that even possible?

Carol is teaching them how to play mahjong.

In my life, I’ve never heard a more confusing description of anything. Also, Carol tends to speak at a low mumble. I’m having a hard time grasping even the basic concept of this game.

Darlene brings a pad over and says:
“Carol, show me.”

Turbocharged from her latest cup of tea, Carol writes intensely. Are those symbols? Is this…ancient hieroglyphics? The room is very confused. They decide more chai is needed to solve our latest mystery.

The phone rings.

Once again…I am deaf.

Because of my hearing damage, I can’t tell who’s on the other line. But she’s asking if anyone saw the rainbow earlier. Current excitement level is off the charts. Was there a pot of gold at the end of it? Or might this be about the caffeine intake right now?

There seems to be a new hotspot in town – The Green Door.

Mom says cocktails are $16.

They all gasp.

Also, how does she even know this? The woman hasn’t ordered a cocktail since Alf topped the Nielsen ratings.  

Darlene:
“Oh yes, it’s very upscale.”

Carol:
“No, that place isn’t upscale.”

Seconds later Carol asks, “What’s the green door?”

This appears to be another Devil Wears Prada situation. Facts are needed. Darlene grabs the wheel. Thanks to her very loud iPhone, she reads an online description of The Green Door.

It’s handled.

Until we find out she was reading the description for a different restaurant.

In Las Vegas.

Final cups of chai. Gotta be near the half-dozen mark by now.

They are very caffeinated.

More gushing about the rainbow. Carol can’t believe she missed it.

They’re starting to fade.

But, hey, at least they know what day it is.

Time for a warm goodbye. Lots of bear hugs. I think it’s possible I have a broken rib. Darlene says, “We’re going to take such good care of your mom.” Not even a tiny part of me doubts her. The door closes.

5 minutes later, Carol comes back.

Forgot to grab her sound machine phone.

She says, “I hope we’ll get another rainbow tomorrow.”

Yeah. Me too, Carol.

The door closes again.

Sigh.

I miss them already.

Confrontations

Here’s a brand new (occasional) feature at monthly posts with MileNerd.

Let’s call it…

One-moment microscope.

You know the movie. Marty McFly goes back to 1955. Finds the younger version of his parents. His world hangs in the balance. And our world? Blown away. Still cheering it on 40 years later. No doubt you’ve seen it multiple times. But, today, I’d like to show you something for the first time…

We’re going under the microscope. To look at a single word from Back To The Future.

(Yes, literally one word)

For this story to work, we have to see George McFly go through a major change. Marty’s dad is a coward. An embarrassment. His arc becomes one of the great surprises of the movie. Remember the first time you saw it? When George finds his courage and stands up to Biff? The entire audience fills with joy. You, me, and everyone else. We get it. Lorraine falls in love on the spot.

Because he’s not just a doormat anymore.

He’s brave.

Oh, but he has to get there…

See, his journey from wussification to strength is a major part of the story. George can’t just have balls from the start. Otherwise, there’s nowhere for him to go. So, let’s say you’re playing the character of George…

Who are you at the start? What’s your relationship like with Biff? And with your family? Clearly, none of them have a ton of respect for you. You’re a man with no backbone. Right?

So…

The audience needs to see who that is. We need to see it clearly. To feel bad when George gets picked on. To feel bummed for Marty having a dad like that. It’s important. Because that’s how we’ll really enjoy the big moment at the end. When George finally gets his triumph.

Please take a minute to look at this scene.

Feel free to watch the whole thing – but we’re really going to focus in on the 2:10 mark.

There’s one simple-yet-brilliant choice I’d like you to see. It’s a very quick little moment. But it’s part of what makes this movie special enough to live on for 4 decades. The choice is this…

Deciding that George is so timid, so afraid of confrontations…

…that he struggles just to say the word.

He. Literally. Has. To. Whisper. It.

That one choice tells us exactly who George McFly is. It helps set up his huge arc. Allowing us to bask in his glory later – when he chooses to be a different kind of man. Someone who no longer accepts being bullied. See, there are dozens of choices even in that short clip. But our micro-breakdown is about this one single word. This whisper.

It’s such a clever choice.

In a sense, it sets up the entire rest of the movie.

You get to go on a ride – with a coward who becomes a hero. Sharing in his big personal journey. You’ve watched many other stories about time travel. So, why did this one capture the imagination for decades?

It’s in these little choices and moments.

Under the microscope, they add up to something unforgettable.