birds of a feather

I biked in along the lake path to work again. Such birds there were on the waters of Lake Mendota! Ducks, geese, gulls, heron – you name it!





Numerically, it is an unusual day. Sixty years ago (meaning in 1950) on this day (meaning the 20th day of the 10th month), Ed was born – an event which he now chooses to ignore.

Fine.

Five years ago (meaning in 2005) today (again, the 20th day of this 10th month) he and I first met. All those rounded numbers! Multiples of five! Even this, of course, is something he would not view as special or important or worthy of mention.

But I do.

We became traveling companions of sorts on that day. It is a description that is nearly perfect: we navigate the everyday in the most absurd way – two people who have not a whole lot in common, except when we agree on something, which is not that often.

But neither do we disagree.





We think differently, he and I. We see things from our own histories and aside from the years I lived in New York as a kid (as did he), our histories don’t overlap much. I would never have done any of the things he considers important in his life and he would never have done things I consider important.

And yet, we sure as hell travel together in the most agreeable manner. And we have figured out how to get on a pleasant path, and we have figured out a whole lot of things about the other, so that different as we are, we are indeed quite good at navigating the everyday.



We did something different tonight: we ate out. And at a nice place, a new place – Nostrano on the Square. An acquiescence to the other: he, to my love (these days very rarely realized) of great food, me, to the understanding that he and I together do not typically search out great food in Madison.





Two birds, with few matching feathers. Funny how that works.