If I wasn’t a klutz, Amy Lynn and I wouldn’t have met.

We sat facing opposite directions on those rows of chairs so common in airport boarding areas. I set my wife’s water bottle on the seat next to me, but it fell between the seats. The lid popped open and the bottle rolled toward her duffel bag, water pouring out of it. I stood up and sprinted around the row of seats, kicked her bag out of the way and grabbed her boarding pass which was sitting nearby.

I’m sure she probably thought I was nuts – some guy with a social disorder, running around airports kicking people’s carry-on luggage.

I explained what had happened and apologized. She was very kind about it and wasn’t upset in the slightest. After returning to my seat I asked her if she’d like to write in my journal. Her teammate/friend piped up: “She’d be perfect for that!”

Sure enough, Amy is an avid journaler and pulled out her own journal to show off. She ended up getting on the plane before me (with my journal). When she was done, she sent my journal back to me via a flight attendant. I didn’t get a picture of her until we landed in Oregon and I tracked her down at the baggage claim.

“Nice” sounds so cliche, but Amy (in addition to being a woman of many talents), is the epitome of the word. I could tell very shortly after meeting her that she is a good person.

P.S. Amy Lynn, if you happen to see this, would you be willing to send in some pictures of your paintings?

My name is Amy Lynn.

I am 6 feet two inches tall. Yeah, that’s pretty tall! But I promise I am not scary.

I love to compete – I play volleyball at a collegiate level and I am in my junior year. There isn’t much better than the adrenaline rush that comes with a hard driven spike to the floor and hearing the crowd roar. I love my team – they are truly my sisters.

I have an enormous family!

I am the middle of seven children and have loved every second of having lots of siblings.

Besides volleyball, I love to express myself through music and art. I took piano lesson for thirteen years of my life and I play with two of my best friends in a band. It’s crazy how so much emotion can be sent through my fingers. And when I do find time aside from school, work, and practice…

I paint.

I love spending so much time on a piece – just making it perfect. Yes, I am a perfectionist! I hold myself to a very high standard in everything I do, but I find happiness in success!

I am only twenty years old and I still have so much of life to experience, but if I could give anyone reading this just one piece of advice: don’t hold back. Do your best in everything you do, and don’t be afraid to let your true self shine! I have much to work on in this exact same aspect, but hopefully one day I find who I really am, and become who I want to be…oh and find a guy like my dad along the way!

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I met Emilio at the library. He seemed friendly but perhaps a bit reserved at first, rarely looking at me as we spoke. Instead, he looked far off to my right, only occasionally glancing to make eye contact. Some other interesting behavioral tidbits:

• He always referred to me as “Mr. David.”
• He spoke very quietly. I don’t know if it was the fact that we were in a library, but I got the impression  he normally talked like that.
• When we shook hands he reached over with his left hand and put it on my right forearm (he did this each time we shook hands). It was an interesting behavior, one I found myself reciprocating by the end of our time together.
• His actions were very deliberate.
• He was very respectful and sincere.

He probably took about a half hour, which is understandable when you look at his elaborate and decorative writing style (clicking on the pages will load bigger, clearer versions – it’s worth taking a look).

As we parted, he encouraged me to be honest, saying there was a lack of honesty in the world (I agree). So, in the spirit of honesty I’ll say that  I’m not entirely sure what  Emilio was writing about much of the time. There are a few things I find particularly interesting when read independent of the rest of his entry (my favorite is, “I have been to Seattle (on absurd terms.)”) but reading it as one continuous thought…yeah… I’m a bit lost. Would anyone care to interpret? Please do so in the comments.

“Dear World,

(I haven’t much 2 say but)

I am writing 2 you. Talking in specifically about the importance of yesterday gone; but the journey taken forever memoired in life. Grasped by god. Anyways, ha ha, I have been personally informed that the whole world is psychotic…or not? I have been to Seattle (on absurd terms). Quite in depth, I dug into my mental surroundings, ah, yes, the land of the pig.

Nevertheless, the point of the story… to succumb mental one’s, or perhaps someone’s, mental thought and/or perception. As an aid or help/guidance/observer/teacher all the while keeping life in order.

I’ve been to Texas, what a clean place, San Antonio 2 be exact. Where I realized the whole world was littering my wording, billboards made sense, movies, clothing, yet, I wasn’t given this persona [something] in life. Huh?

Can U relate?

Did I love life, do you love life? We can all perish with our hands choice fully. Perhaps struggle a day or 2 leaving works behind to adore. Discoveries 4 a better future. Or just 4 tomorrow. Me, I was scared more than anything. This leads 2 happiness! A fact!

Brothers, sisters, lovers, mothers, fathers. Behold humanity. Sense or senseless. The people, the attitude was where slower paced. Filthy, disgusting slums, visually depressingly clean cities. Point of this story. Work hard, don’t lie, don’t spy (ya, I know), be exceptionally rational. Give into what’s right even if, and probably will be harder.

San Francisco.

A step back…

Various, a fighter’s saloon of a city in every aspect. All the while Salt Lake seems closest to home.

Regardless my friends, admire and love everything. This will bring happiness.

Advice:

Watch Wall-E

Go 2 a church

Be loving hearted/minded

Watch Wall-E again

Look 4 signs

But seriously, best of mind and heart 2 you. The world’s yours. 2day or 2morrow. I looove you…really. Thank God.

P.S. Voices in your head suck.

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Now, I’m not nearly old enough to be called sir so I didn’t turn around at first. But the calling persisted and I turned to find a Hispanic kid, maybe in his late teens, walking toward me. In broken English, he asked for a ride maybe a quarter mile up the road. I’m normally not prone to giving rides to strangers, especially if my family is with me, but I was alone and he looked clean-cut and like a good kid. Not to mention it was a very hot day. So he hopped in and we started up the road.

He picked the wrong guy to ask though, because the AC in my car is broken. Eh. At least it was faster than walking, if not any cooler.

We tried to converse a bit on the short trip. I learned that Rene (I’m sure there’s supposed to be some kind of accent on the name, but I don’t know how to implement it on WordPress) was up from Mexico staying with a friend for the summer, working at Del Taco. I got the impression he’d done it before.

His stop came quickly, and before he got out I asked him if he’d write in my journal. I tried to explain that I’d love to hear about Mexico, his story, his family, etc. but I think some of that was lost in translation. (Unfortunately, I forgot to get his picture.) Here’s what he wrote:

“Muchas gracias por el raite, manana me voy a Mexico. Me hiciste un gran favor.

Ojala cuando vayas a Mexico, yo o al guien pueda hacer on favor parti, como to me lo niciste a mi.

Gracias

Atte
Rene T.”

Thanks to a friend who knows Spanish, along with Google Translate, here’s the English version of what he said. (If you have a better translation, please e-mail me):

“Thank you for the ride. Tomorrow I am going to Mexico. You did me a big favor.

Hopefully when you go to Mexico, I or someone can do a favor for you as you have done for me.

Thank you

Sincerely,
Rene T.”

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I was walking to work from the train late last month when who before my wondering eyes should appear? But Santa…in a carriage…in July…in downtown Salt Lake. Naturally I approached him and asked what the jolly old elf was doing so far south this time of year.

Santa was in town for a Christmas in July event at a nearby homeless shelter and was waiting for Mrs. Claus to show up (she was running quite late). If I remember correctly, he had been bringing cheer to those in the shelter for two years (this was his third). The event was sponsored by the Salt Lake Board of Realtors.

I asked Santa if he’d write in my journal and he was more than happy to. I was impressed with his composure – despite being in his full wardrobe, Santa dealt with the hot July heat very well. Not something I’d expect from someone who lives in the Arctic 364 days a year.

It’s nice to know that Santa is still out and about doing good and trying to bring comfort to people who are in need of comfort and cheer – regardless of the time of year. There’s a lesson to be learned from his example.

Here’s what he had to say:

“Santa in July

I love it any time of year. Today is for the homeless shelter which is great for me. I have been doing this for 15 years. It’s been great with (?) many fun experiences. You’ve got to love people, especially the kids. They are so fun to be around. I love it.

Santa”

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My wife and I went to an Ani DiFranco concert here in Salt Lake on Saturday. We’d never heard of her, but the promise of free tickets to an outdoor concert on a summer night sounded too good to pass up.

While waiting in a very long line to get wristbands (we already had tickets, I’m not sure why we needed wristbands too) we met Christian. “I’m selling handmade jewelry to get money to, well, eat. That and to fix up my ’72 VW van.”

Christian wanted to make it back to Monterey, California and from there, who knew?

We admired his handiwork but didn’t have any cash. I told him about this project and he was more than willing to write in my journal. Once we found our seats (next to a girl who was already throwing up in the bushes – nice) he began.

“The nights just startin! She’s already piss drunk and I can’t remember her name, too bad I’m movin on. It ain’t all bad, I’ve been here for years, and worked so long ya think I could have at least moved 10 ft, but its all good the weather’s nice, the foods good and I’m well enough to live till tomorrow. Yet still I swear I’m goin sometime to somewhere fine. Freedom is fine, and free, but why does it take so much from me? Life can’t be defined by how much money you make, how new you are or how fast you made it. If even I die poor, I still lived!

Since the wheel first turned we’ve been turned in time to meet its end.”

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