Yesterday I made a grand total of 2 phone calls, which is a lot for me. I usually don't get much 'social interaction' with 'other people.' Rarely does it ever go 'well' for me.
The first was to a really smart and delightfully deranged girl. On speaking of her current boyfriend "Yeah, he kinda sexually assaulted me and now we're dating. But I'm still pissed at him."
The second was to my old high school rowing coach. His wife of 47 years had recently died and I wanted to offer my condolences. Offering condolences is one of the most useless social conventions ever. You can't really help solve their problem and pain is too personal to have anyone make it better. Especially not a so-so rower you haven't seen in 4 years. But he talked to me for 2 hours about growing up in Scotland, the way my school has gone to the dogs, and his unusually pragmatic views on religion.
No matter how bad a team we were (I sunk a boat at one point. Maybe two) he always encouraged us and kept the crew program going. On very hot Miami afternoons, he would yell at us and equipment was always broken down, water logged, and outdated. The oar handles would cause out palms to bleed and then we'd dip them in the bay's salt water. Though my calves ache just writing this, the memories of rowing next to dolphins and watching sunsets on the bay seem to make it worthwhile.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
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