To the guy laughing as I belted out the verse to “We Can Always Come Back To This,” by Brian Tyree Henry, I say “You’re welcome.” I was walking on a part of the trail I had never traversed far to the north and the wide open expanse of nothingness must have dulled my awareness of anything coming from behind me.
Instead of listening to anything informative, I opted for pure unadulterated lift-me-by-the-ears music, so it was no surprise that I had starting singing without considering the quasi-public space I had chosen as my opera hall. (No Ticketmaster needed, at least.)
I’m not sure from what wormhole the cyclist emerged, but he startled me as he materialized out of nowhere from behind me on either a bicycle or a two-wheeled rocket. As he laughed, he braked and turned back to say something to me. He asked me what the song was that had me so inspired, so I told him. He repeated the name back to me. Off he went, pedaling away. Later, it’s going to occur to him as he falls in love with the song that he’ll always remember the weirdo on the trail in the middle of nowhere who introduced him to it.
.
.
.
Not all excitement is equally valuable.
.
.
.
They told me to feed the ducks. They failed to say I couldn’t use the fine china to do it.
.
Facebook says I can’t be trusted. It hid my friend’s list even from me.
.
The antonym for ‘tantalizing’ is in fact the word ‘taintalizing,’ for both anatomical and etymological reasons.
.
“Have fun, make money!” the job ad said. I’m better at counterfeiting than I had imagined.
.
