"What we've got here is failure to communicate" -- said the Captain

 On the Way Out

Vol. 3,  Part 3

The lines of communications...and the practicing of such...not only to stop and smell the roses, but interfacing "live" with the human race...and Happy Halloween.

Actor Strother Martin's (1919-1980) most famous line "What we got here is failure to communicate" was from the movie Cool Hand Luke (1967). I mean in real life this man could communicate. After all, he was in six John Wayne movies and was in and had lines in so many Western movies...well I couldn't even begin to count them all.

So about this communication thing...

I find myself not just smelling the roses these days, but I seem to be, at the age of 76, looking to just communicate with the outside world -- which continues to leave me behind, along with many other senior citizens I assume.

I found myself at my favorite donut shop this morning. It seems like over the years I have done that at one time or another. I have met my share of interesting people there, mostly old folks as they fill me in on their wonderful or not so wonderful life.

There are a lot of lonely people out there at coffee shops, at the parks and some I've met hiking in the desert...by themselves...one step at a time, remembering, recalling their younger days as a man or woman. If, I'm lucky, I'll latch on and communicate for a few minutes, maybe an hour...maybe longer, with a human being who comes from my childhood days, my time of life...when we didn't have to recall anything...we just lived.

I met a lady in the park the other day. She's at the park often and then disappears into the night. I sat down with her and discussed life and, in my own little way,  discovered things about her like: where did she grow up, what school did she attend, was she ever married...what were her best reflections of decades ago when she was a young woman...barely getting in those blocks (a track term), awaiting the gun to go off and her adult life to begin?

I met an old fella in his mid-eighties the other day. He grew up in Tucson, made a fortune in real estate, back in the day when Davis-Monthan Air Force Base was in its beginning stages. He picked up on that right away and sent flyers to people who were relocating to the Valley. Smart man. Now retired, the likable gentleman had recently lost his wife of forty years. He seemed lost and was looking for an avenue, a way to continue with his life. He was a vibrant fella and could communicate with the best of them and said he had just cleaned his motor home and was headed to the north country. 

Chances are he will meet some nice people along the way. He will sit down in a coffee shop, somewhere in Montana...and communicate.

One more example for the road:

A few months ago, I had a bunch of errands to run. My last stop with the post office, before I would, of course, make my gradual descent into the closest donut shop. I glanced to my right and watched an elderly lady in a motorized scooter make her way through the intersection. Her destination: unknown.  At least, that's what I thought at the time.

I realized I did have one more quick stop to make and then on to the donut shop, close to a mile and a half away. Once there, I stood in line and two friendly people opened the big glass door behind me and let the lady in, the latest customer to arrive, who would then wait patiently in line.

It was the lady I saw on the scooter. It was a mile, as the crow flies, from where I first saw her to her arrival at the front door of the donut shop. I picked up my order and found a seat. 

About five minutes went by and it was time for the woman in the scooter to place her order. She reached into a little compartment, near the steering wheel of the scooter and grabbed a small purse, opened it up and took out just enough to pay the cashier.

The woman maneuvered her scooter to the corner of the room. I wanted to join her and discuss life as she knew it. But on this day I didn't.

I finally left the donut shop, started up my car, and looked out my window as she motored south...back the way she came.

I'm sorry I didn't meet a new friend that day.

Fortunately, there will be others down the road.

It's what I do.

As for the Halloween picture, that is my one and only great-grandson, Fallon. He loves pumpkins.