Gutten Erev Shabbos

Years ago I was in a car and the driver pulled up to the wrong toll booth, where there was no person - and she needed change. My car mate asked me to go a toll booth over and ask them what to do. The driver was nervous about chilul Hashem so we agreed that I take off my kippa. When I got to the toll operator he vented to me about the impatient people he has to deal with, not at all focused on me and my friend and our goof. A lesson to be learned: we worry that others are thinking about us and they're most probably not (except when they are) thinking

about us.

That reminds me how people often say, "You never know." And my response to that is "except when you do."

The other day I saw someone I last saw about three weeks ago. At that time he asked me what I was doing for the summer and I said writing a poetry book and he asked questions that I felt as critical. When I saw him again he asked what I'm doing for the summer. This time I gave the "learning, writing, thinking, breathing answer." He liked that better than he liked the writing poetry answer of which he had no recollection.

I have come to assume, in my head though not my heart, that most people don't remember anything. I have been critiqued strongly for remembering too much. Someone recently told me that I take in regular things so heavily that she fears I use up my capacity to properly take in things that really are heavy. On the other hand I have a mentor/friend who says that the way I take in and keep what I experience is simply the way people are supposed to be.

It is Friday and in an unfocused way, I am waiting for Shabbos. I am home, cooking, with plans, feeling pretty good - thank G-d. And my mind is traveling. And I'll, please G-d continue to share as Shabbos rides to town.

Not long ago I had ride to a chupah with a Beatles aficionado. He's involved in an upcoming event marking 30 years since John Lennon was killed. He has a collection of Beatles related stamps which he showed me as I waited. Above is my favorite one.

Above is the picture of Aaron Bulman from the back of his posthumous poetry book. He's on my mind. I'll be seeing his family over Shabbos. He was a good man. He's often if not always on my mind and in my heart.

Soon Shabbos - and yet,

It is never soon enough.

Why do I run late?