Sunday

Saw an old grades 1-12 classmate from afar in the grocery store today.

We were basketball teammates for a couple of those years .... I've wondered if he remembers.

We may have even served mass together as altar boys two or three times.

We've crossed paths occasionally over the years and he always recognized me.

But today, I was afraid to approach him and say hello today.  

He doesn't appear to have gained a pound since we were 18 years old and I ..... well, I look like the aging, mirror avoiding, low self-esteem, Howard Hughes-ish mess that I've become these days. 

Not something I feel good about. 

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In the bookstore earlier.

If it's not on shelf four or above, there's not much chance I'm going to discover it.

I just don't want to go down to my knees to search the lower shelves.

Afraid of the effort needed to get back to my feet.

Afraid that I'll fall into the bookcases.

Good thing that there's usually just one level in vinyl record stores. 

And that anything lower is generally reserved for the $1 records. 

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On good days, I used to be able to palm outdoor basketballs (never could palm the Wilson Jet) ..... so why can't I hold onto each of six loose socks on my walk from the dryer to the bedroom? Why is there always one or two lost along the way?