I spent the late afternoon and early evening with a good friend of mine whom I shall name “John” for the sake of confidentiality. We walked about eight or nine miles at a large dog park with his yellow lab, looping around multiple times on different paths, all the while discussing a variety of ethereal and mundane topics. I enjoyed the opportunity to get outdoors and articulate matters of the heart. The snowy landscape in the misty twilight worked its magic and kept us oblivious to the miles we had traversed. Yes, every now and then I exit my cave and engage in a bit of social intercourse with other humans. His wife “Nancy,” a delightful creature with a kind heart, made a fabulous “salad soup” upon our return to their home. We exchanged pleasantries around the dinner table and watched some Brian Regan comedy clips on YouTube. I’ve been quite the socialite today. Earlier I spent time with two of my daughters at a breakfast restaurant. Over omelets and hash browns, Monika and Jessika discussed countries they’d like to visit and the challenge of maintaining good grades in school. Such interactions with fellow human beings are normal—normal for most people. I have become ever more reclusive as time marches on. I’m not much of a conversationalist. I usually make people feel uncomfortable. So when I have the chance to engage in dialogue and spend quality time with individuals, I probably should take it.
