I work in an office that makes using elevators necessary. We have both the third and fourth floors and most of the second. My desk is on the fourth.... I need to vist 2nd alot and am currently doing a project that places me on 3rd frequently..... and the goddam stairwells are way on the opposite end of the building. I have to use the elevators as an expedient.
So I had this rant I was gonna do on idiots and elevator etiquette... you know.... the morons who try to 'get on' before anyone can get off... who play their fucking Ipod so loud it gives off vibrations, who can't fucking wait to get off the elevator before using their cell phones.
ME..... from Bad Habits throws out a rhetorical question....
She mentions a French/American affairs blog where I first met her.... It was the first blog I had ever read. From there I met an incredible Native American artist who lives in New Mexico. Two years later ME and Joanne are still my friends. And, rather like popcorn, one blog leads to another, and another... and two years later I have met people from Indiana, and Cleveland and Portland and Kentucky and Iowa,California,St. Louis ...... and some folks I really am not sure 'where' they are, or where they might be from.
... and for the most part..... I really don't care. To me, it is alot of folks reaching out in search of truth, common ground, humanity, a little love (&an occasional beer)
That is all what it is about. Done&Done. Straight up stuff. I don't care if they are gay or straight or what religion they are or aren't----- if they eat meat or not.
I grok a goodness in connectivity. All good.
So what if the fucking-wingnut hadn't starting tell those stupid 'French' jokes two years ago in the car pool? What if I hadn't checked out that vile blog he recommended with all the idiot racist jokes and hadn't met Joanne who was there commenting on what idiots they were and telling them to check out a great French/American blog by Denis Chazelle http://superfrenchie.com/ ?
Aw, beats me!
And what if I hadn't met her on that bridge ten years ago only to realize it was ten years too late?
She was married when we first met
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.
I guess pushing the right button on the elevator is more important than I thought.