Many years ago, when I arrived home from work, my wife Susan would ask me what happened during my day.  It took me a while to understand that what she wanted was an hour-by-hour summary of my entire day.  But because my mind doesn’t work that way, I wasn’t able to answer her effectively. It took us awhile to figure out the disconnect between us so we could communicate better.

My recollections of what happened during my day are like a ticker tape of random information. My memories are not organized chronologically.  My mind subconsciously clips each “article” of information and places it in the appropriate file with other related experiences.  In that way – I “cache” my memories so they make the most sense to me.  Organizing events consecutively is not relevant to my internal way of thinking, and it is difficult or impossible for me to reproduce my day chronologically afterwards.

The amount we can share with another person is always limited. This is true even with those closest to you: your parents, your children, or your life partner.  Obviously, I can’t spend eight hours each evening with a minute-by-minute recap of my entire day.

But part of a good relationship is realizing and respecting each other’s differences and working out accommodations and compromises.  For example, I like to go to sleep at 11:00 pm every night.  Daveen is a night owl and likes to read until the wee hours of the morning.  So we cuddle while I fall asleep.  After that Daveen is free to do whatever she likes.  Maybe she’s a secret night-marathon runner?

But just like my periodic reports to Susan, this blog only reflects snippets of what actually happens my life, not the whole shebang (hebang?).  I have to be selective in sharing with important people in my life what might be important or interesting. This certainly applies to what I can share in this weekly blog.

Let’s face it.  Much of life is the “same old”.  And there is comfort in that. But I suppose that’s also why we enjoy watching movies or TV – so we can experience someone like Tom Cruise leaping off mountain peaks or driving a car at 200 miles per hour.

But I’ll happily settle for what you choose to share with me if it is important to you. Those moments of meaningful expression matter, because that is what keeps us connected.

A penny for your snippet?

Alan

The good news is that my son invited me to join him at the first game of the World Series on Friday evening.  More good news – we had great seats behind home plate. Even more good news – the Dodgers came from behind to win on a grand slam home run at the bottom of the 10^th inning.  And in what should have been good news – I got a lot of walking in after the game.

But, that is also the bad news.  I regularly walk about 3,500 steps every day. I expected I would get in all my steps tramping to and from the car in the Dodger parking lot.  What I didn’t expect is that after the game none of us could remember exactly where the car was parked.  The Dodgers Stadium parking lot must hold more than 25,000 cars, including many red Teslas.

So we walked.  And we walked.  And we walked. To no avail.

Finally, I asked Craig and his friend to find the car and then find me. My legs, after about 8,000 steps, felt like rubber.  While I was leaning against a concrete parking cone, I was asked twice by concerned Dodger fans if I needed a ride.  The answer is that I did, but it was coming.  Hopefully soon.

I remember my father, at 95, vowing to never attend a Rose Bowl game with me again – “Too much walking,” he said.

Well, now I feel the same way about the World Series.  The games look great on TV, the commentary is helpful, and the moment they are over I’m already in bed, not walking through the dark to the car.

Daveen was understanding, but then she usually walks more than 8,000 steps every day. (What is she thinking?!!?)

At any rate, I plan to enjoy watching the World Series game tonight in the comfort of my own home.  I will exercise by walking to the kitchen and back.

Alan

Sunday morning Daveen noticed a lot of cars parked on the street in front of our house.

“Someone must be having a party,” she said.

As it turned out, it was a party. A big party! A Street Fair that stretched for many city blocks along Ventura Boulevard.

For lunch Daveen was ordering take-out, but apparently Door Dash wouldn’t allow me to remove the blue cheese from my preferred BLT.  But since I like to kill as many birds as possible with a single stone – I had a bright idea.

Last week ACF signed a new lease at a shopping center we manage in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Our new tenant there is Dave’s Hot Chicken. There is also a Dave’s on Ventura Boulevard not far from our house.

So I decided to take my daily walk to Dave’s, check them out for myself, and enjoy the street fair on my way. Isn’t it wonderful when you can turn an obstacle into an opportunity?

I’m happy to report that Dave’s fried chicken is pretty good, although they seem to think that “light spice” means “lots of spice.”  (It could be me. I just don’t like much spice on my chicken.)  I now believe that their new store in Arkansas will perform well.

Daveen is vegan, so no fried chicken for her. But I appreciated my brief experience of the street fair and next year I’m looking forward to enjoying the fair with Daveen.

Though I’ll probably stick to tacos, and maybe some ice cream.