Speechless

"We just got back from a European cruise!" the old man said to me.

"The best part was seeing Normandy beach. And just seeing the rows of crosses where our soldiers are buried. What amazed me most was the straightness of the line...if you knelt on the ground and looked 100 crosses would blend into one. It was absolutely beautiful. When you walk up, they play the national anthem, and there is such a feeling there...I can't describe it."

"Were you in the Army?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"Did you fight in World War II?"

"No, I was later."

"Korea?"

"No...I was in Vietnam."

Silence.

I can never explain the silence that comes over me when I meet a veteran, especially of Vietnam. It's like the images he saw and his experiences loom over our heads, and to pay respect we remain silent. I have yet to figure out how to break through this silence. Maybe it's the heroism. Maybe it's the horrors. Either way, it leaves me speechless.

Mr. Broken Back

So, I haven't written in a while. It's not that I haven't met anybody interesting, because I have. I still meet someone new everyday. But I've just been so tired at the end of the day that I haven't hit up my blog. Then I say, "I'll do it tomorrow" . . . and we all know what procrastination does to us.

I did meet somebody very inspiring today. There was a guy at the gym sitting next to me doing calf raises on a machine. He was terribly hunched over, and I could tell each rep pained him somehow.

"Dude, are you okay?" I asked.

"Ya, it just hurts," the guy said. "It's my first day in the gym in about a year."

"Welcome back man," I replied. "I know how laziness can get us."

"Naw man I wasn't lazy. I broke my back a year ago." My mouth dropped.

"How did it feel when you broke it?" I asked.

"It's pretty scary when I hit and felt everything crack. I couldn't move for a little bit, but luckily it wasn't serious enough to paralyze me. I'm just glad to be back."

Everything can change in a moment. Meeting this man has made me want to stop complaining and start being thankful that every morning I can open my eyes, stand on my feet, and walk.

Fear and Fortune Cookies

It all started with a fortune cookie I got from Panda Express today:

People find it difficult to resist your persuasive manner.

I thought it was kind of cool and put it in my pocket. Later that night I was at the gym swimming laps. There was an older man about 64 years old sitting in a chair in his bathing suit relaxing and watching the swimmers.

"Hey, how come you aren't in the water?" I asked jokingly.

"I can't swim," the man replied. I honestly thought everybody knew how to swim. If not, then everybody should learn!

"How come you can't swim? Didn't you learn as a kid?"

"When I was a little boy I almost drowned," he looked up and made coughing noises. "Every since then I've been terrified of the water."

That fortune cookie popped into my head.

"Get in the water," I said. "I will teach you right now."

The man looked a little surprised.

"Come on, get in. You need to know how to swim." To my surprise, he jumped in the water!

First he practiced kicking and learned how to keep his body afloat. Then we moved in to the actual freestyle technique. Finally, we learned breathing. After 30 minutes, the man swam a full lap by himself. He was so happy to have overcome a 6-year old fear.

My toast for the day: Here's to facing your fears and fortune cookies!

The Red Head

"My sister would kill to have that hair, you know," I said to a red-headed girl standing next to me at a stop light.

"Well thanks," she laughed. "I kind of like it now, but not so much when I was a kid."

"Did you get teased a lot? What would kids say?"

"Oh yeah, other kids would always pick on me and call me names like "orange-head" or "red," it was pretty sad."

I laughed with her, mostly because I was amazed at the lack of creativity from the kids at her school.

"Well, I'll bet you like it now," I said.

"I love it now. Most girls want to have this hair, red and super curly. I can't lie, though . . . I would love to have straight blond hair. I would trade for that any day."

Question: Why do girls always want hair they don't have?

The Beach Runner

I've moved down to CA for a month. It sucks being away from my wife, but she's extremely busy with a heavy class load and I thought I could go down to California and make some money. We said difficult goodbyes on Thursday. Today I ran from my house to the beach in Huntington Beach.

"It's a beautiful night for a run, huh?" I said to a guy with a dog at the beach.

"Ya, it's perfect right now and in the morning."

"Do you go running a lot?"

"Usually I run six miles every morning. I like to run on the sand because it really strengthens your legs. I've found when you put on running shoes after sand running you feel stronger and more stable."

We parted ways and I sat down on a log. Then I turned back and watched the guy walk away with his dog, and it hit me: I really missed my wife. I missed her companionship, her love, and her support. I missed seeing her next to me in the mornings and when I go to bed. I missed her always asking me for a small "bitesy" of food. I ran home and the next day I woke up, quit the job I had, and drove home to her.

Some conversations, like this one, seem inconsequential. But the moment right after a conversation ends could be the most important. After every conversation with a stranger there is a small moment when I am more introspective. My senses feel heightened. I think of it like a "runner's high," instead it's a "talker's high." And it was in that moment that I made the decision to come home. My wife's smile, the ten-hour drive . . . all can be traced back to a guy with a dog at the beach.

The Debt Collector

Today I met a guy that, in his own words, "lives off the stupid mistakes of other people." He is a debt collector.

"So what's the funniest or craziest thing you've heard over the phone?"

He said what follows in a weird nonchalant way with a soft grin, as if he was ordering ice cream.

"I've heard things like 'I'm gonna kill your mother,' or 'I'm gonna rape you.' I've also heard people scream they are going to blow up my office. We've had so many bomb threats the police don't even care anymore. In fact, the only person that's come to this office has come to pay a thousand dollar debt."

"So what do you say when you get those crazy threats?"

"Well, if they say 'I'm gonna kick your ___,' then I say, 'Then bring your checkbook with you because after you kick my ___ you're still gonna have to pay your debt.' Or 'Well, make sure you strap a check to the bomb.' The killing-my-mom threat made me laugh the most. I said, 'Well, my mama's going to ask you for a check so have it ready.'"

This is a guy who doesn't get offended. He gets paid.

Mr. Chicken Sub

Any time I catch someone glancing at me I smile at them. It erases the feeling of isolation between me and the other person. It's a connector.

"Hi, I'll have the footlong Spicy Italian please," I say.

"That sounds like a good one," the guy behind me said.

"I think it's the best one on the menu hands down. Which one are you gonna get?"

"You've convinced me. I'm gonna get the Italian. My wife put me on a diet so lately I've been ordering those Omega-3-chicken-whatever subs. But today, since I'm traveling, I think I'm entitled to treat myself to a real sub this time."

He told me he was heading to Minnesota for his daughter's wedding. In a weird twist him and his wife are flying out today on different airplanes from different airports. That's the only way they could use their frequent flyer points. He grabbed his sandwich and rushed out the door to catch his flight.

Sure he's about to go to one of the happiest days of his life: his daughter's marriage. But I like to think eating the Spicy Italian made him a little more happy today . . . and I had a hand in that.