credit

I’m not referring to credit cards. Go elsewhere if you want to read about those. I’m thinking of credit of the type where you say “you gotta give the guy credit…”

And I will.

A day of work and so much cold out there – lonely cold, the kind of cold you hate to feel while biking home just before the sky turns black. So let me turn away from the world out there…



Bascom Mall

…and say a word or two about the warmth within.

A student asked in class today – why aren’t you bringing your boyfriend (she means occasional traveling companion, but I do not expect others to be keyed into terminology that only makes sense to me) to the potluck this week-end?

Because Ed (who is at once a boy at heart and a friend, but really, best referred to as an occasional traveling companion) has a hearty appetite and an inclination to doze afterwards. I’m not sure inviting him to a torts small section event is a great idea…

I recount this exchange to Ed later.
You told them I’ll eat too much and sleep? I could almost hear him asking – did you tell them I once bought you a vacuum cleaner?

I smile.

Ed calls later this afternoon.
My business partner asked me how my new refrigerator is doing.
You must have mentioned that your old one broke down...
No, his wife read that on your blog.
Did you mind?
No. Only that you posted that I bought it for $399. You know I got a 10% discount, so it was actually less.

Who else would tolerate me posting about this? Open blogging, not anonymous, who else would not mind?

Ed occasionally comments here under a pseudonym known only to me (and possibly previous match.com readers who corresponded with him before my time, but how likely is it that they read Ocean…). But it’s rare.

I remember two years ago when I asked him what he thought of Ocean.
Too tame – he tells me.

Tame?? I am writing daily, under my own name, to an audience composed of family, friends, students, colleagues, bosses, you name it – a multiple audience of those who wish me well and those who’ll throw darts if only I provide a window, and he says I’m “tame?” (I believe “boring” was also used, but the email apology that followed took away the sting of that; it was the kind of apology you get only in the first months of your dating sequence.)

Fact is, if Ed minds, he’ll not tell me. He would not think of placing constraints on what I do or say. He deserves such huge credit for this and so here it is – to you, Ed. Credit.