An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

We sat at a busy intersection, safely tucked within 3,500 lbs of metal and plastic, the red light keeping us captive long enough to watch the scene unfolding at the gas station nearby.  A quick movement caught my attention. Seconds went by before I knew exactly what I was watching. A dance, violent and involuntary. A man, maybe 40 or maybe 20 and life’s just taken it’s toll out on his lanky thin body, was throwing himself here and there, doing high kicks repeatedly, boxing his arms high in the air, jumping and spinning. The medical term is punding but the street term is tweaking. Picture Frankenstein trying to break dance and you have an idea. At any rate, this was as violent tweaking as I’d ever seen; throwing his body to and fro.  What surprised me was the couple pumping gas just feet away. The woman driver had her window down. She was calm and unaffected. The man was gassing up the car as if there was no one there. Honestly I would have been freaking out, frightened by his ...

My silly dog and I walk at the beach nearly every morning. It's a unique group of people we see. It's 6:30 am and the hard-core surfers that range in age from 10 to 80, the young men, the unemployed, the businessmen catching a wave before going to work, the hippies; they are all here enjoying their passion. There's also the observers.  The remainders are the runners, the bikers, walkers, the lovers, the homeless and, lastly, the addicts. There's one gent that I've been watching for months. He's a nice-looking Hispanic guy, probably around 40, and looking way too healthy to be an addict. So I watch and I see what he's doing. He selling. He selling to kids, skaters, surfers, women an d men. It doesn't matter, he's an equal opportunity supplier. I don't know whether to hate him or pity him. Mostly I think it's pity but I can't help but wonder; does he carry a little of everything? Do you approach him like a supermarket? Or does he spe...