A Start Off Point

While overanalyzing my life and the bits that make up my immediate universe (as always) I come to the realization that I surround myself with quirkiness.

My friends are social misfits, rad, kind, fun and certainly not what one would call popular. Mind you social misfits is a term my mom has used as a kind way to say that my friends are odd, fixer uppers. Naturally being a feeling, intuitive cancer I feel compelled to "fix" people, or so says my mom.

Today I watch as the old man crosses our residential street. Hunched over, curved spine and rounded shoulders. Today's grocery item is goldfish crackers.

Since the first week we've lived here I've spied that old man. He lives down a block or so and makes regular trips to the convenience store conveniently our direct neighbor.

That first time the grocery item was a six pack of beer, such is the case in most instances. I can't tell you what about this old man intrigued me so. We've never spoken a word but his very demeanor, his grocery item, his slow hunchbacked shuffle, never ceases to make me pause.