get your feet wet
The last post was quite appropriate. Looks like more will come along those lines. I have been given an assignment : get your feet wet. Within a few hours of being given this assignment, i was approached, without even really knowing it, and the best i could muster was dipping a toe in the water to see how it felt. Not exactly getting my feet wet, but better than my usual. I'm just not a player. More on that sports analogy later.
So i took the kids down to the concert in the park, which is usually just an excuse for us to play on the playground with musical accompaniment. Big-band, jazz sounds this week so it was quite pleasant, and not as crowded as usual. I noticed a young woman trying to keep track of her little boy (probably around two years old). She was quite attractive, and not really with anyone other than the kid. Through whatever bizarre circumstances, we talked very briefly. And then i gave it a few minutes and went over and talked a little more with her. I played with the kids a bit, and eventually she made her way over to us to make small talk. It sounds like a dance when i describe it now, but i was pretty clueless to it at this point. But wait, it gets worse. Her choice of small talk? Something about my kids' beautiful red hair, and then "do they get that from your wife?" To which i respond vaguely... "from their mother, blah blah blah..." Okay, the first time is a gimme. The second time, she saw someone dancing or waving or whatever, and thought they were trying to get my attention... "Is that your wife over there waving at you." No, it's not... but i'm an idiot anyway, thanks. She got away, chasing her kid off to another part of the park. I finally figured it out, but had to go with my own kids.
So as a sports analogy, this one is easy. A few weeks back, after watching people play baseball for quite awhile, i was thrown back into the game, by a friend who knew that i needed it. The pitch was there, though a little bit of a curveball. I don't think i would have knocked it out of the park, but it was at least a base hit. I really wasn't ready for it though. It's been awhile since i've played, and i'm not sure i ever really was that good anyway. This time i step back up to the plate, not really paying much attention, and a nice pitch goes right past me. Then the pitcher slows it down, lobbing it right over the plate. The sun must have been in my eyes. Instead of homerun glory, i'm left sitting on the bench imagining what could have been.
I'm not a big sports fan, but i love analogies. Of course i should have clarified the wife scenario, which is really what she was looking for. She's a smart woman and doesn't come right out and ask. I shoulda/woulda/coulda said "ya, my estranged wife has red hair just like that." Ugh. God i suck. Supposedly the French have a word for that, when you think of the perfect thing to say just a bit too late... but i can't remember the word either. It will come to me later, full of irony.
Let's just mix this one up a little more. The woman in question, at the park, was a beautiful black woman. Yep. And for anyone out there that doesn't know me, i'm about as white as i could possibly be. Her kid was a gorgeous, mixed-race kid though. Complete with blue eyes and blonde-ish hair. Little mixed boys are just about as cute as you can possibly get. So although i would never expect a black woman to be interested in me, i'd have to say that there was a good chance that i wasn't the only one interested. New people, new experiences... right? I just need to learn to be prepared for the pitch when it comes. Never seems to be when i expect it.
I did talk to her, which is a bit of a step for me under such circumstances. I guess the real lesson that i can't seem to get, is that i'm not the only one that's interested.
.
So i took the kids down to the concert in the park, which is usually just an excuse for us to play on the playground with musical accompaniment. Big-band, jazz sounds this week so it was quite pleasant, and not as crowded as usual. I noticed a young woman trying to keep track of her little boy (probably around two years old). She was quite attractive, and not really with anyone other than the kid. Through whatever bizarre circumstances, we talked very briefly. And then i gave it a few minutes and went over and talked a little more with her. I played with the kids a bit, and eventually she made her way over to us to make small talk. It sounds like a dance when i describe it now, but i was pretty clueless to it at this point. But wait, it gets worse. Her choice of small talk? Something about my kids' beautiful red hair, and then "do they get that from your wife?" To which i respond vaguely... "from their mother, blah blah blah..." Okay, the first time is a gimme. The second time, she saw someone dancing or waving or whatever, and thought they were trying to get my attention... "Is that your wife over there waving at you." No, it's not... but i'm an idiot anyway, thanks. She got away, chasing her kid off to another part of the park. I finally figured it out, but had to go with my own kids.
So as a sports analogy, this one is easy. A few weeks back, after watching people play baseball for quite awhile, i was thrown back into the game, by a friend who knew that i needed it. The pitch was there, though a little bit of a curveball. I don't think i would have knocked it out of the park, but it was at least a base hit. I really wasn't ready for it though. It's been awhile since i've played, and i'm not sure i ever really was that good anyway. This time i step back up to the plate, not really paying much attention, and a nice pitch goes right past me. Then the pitcher slows it down, lobbing it right over the plate. The sun must have been in my eyes. Instead of homerun glory, i'm left sitting on the bench imagining what could have been.
I'm not a big sports fan, but i love analogies. Of course i should have clarified the wife scenario, which is really what she was looking for. She's a smart woman and doesn't come right out and ask. I shoulda/woulda/coulda said "ya, my estranged wife has red hair just like that." Ugh. God i suck. Supposedly the French have a word for that, when you think of the perfect thing to say just a bit too late... but i can't remember the word either. It will come to me later, full of irony.
Let's just mix this one up a little more. The woman in question, at the park, was a beautiful black woman. Yep. And for anyone out there that doesn't know me, i'm about as white as i could possibly be. Her kid was a gorgeous, mixed-race kid though. Complete with blue eyes and blonde-ish hair. Little mixed boys are just about as cute as you can possibly get. So although i would never expect a black woman to be interested in me, i'd have to say that there was a good chance that i wasn't the only one interested. New people, new experiences... right? I just need to learn to be prepared for the pitch when it comes. Never seems to be when i expect it.
I did talk to her, which is a bit of a step for me under such circumstances. I guess the real lesson that i can't seem to get, is that i'm not the only one that's interested.
.
posted by joe @ 6:57 PM
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