Life in the Slow Lane – Outside in the Sun

Brother Mosch ( with a long 0)

Outside in the Sun at the Roundtable

By Brother Mosche (with a long O)

Today, Randal, Jim, Roger, Dave, Phil and I were at Round Table.

Roger and Dave were already at a central table when I arrived… Hadn’t seen Roger in a long time. He has a gaping smile. He shares it liberally making me feel welcome… he asked about Beth’s heart attack . . . I was touched by his genuine interest in her health.

“They operate to clear the blockage?” he asked.

“No… they implanted a stint… no damage to her heart… with the blockage gone she feels better than she had for a long time.”

Phil, “I know a man who has 16 stints…. “He laughed and added, “kind’a like a case of walking angina.”

“I have two, “I offered and added. “… Different times,” taking part ownership of the conversation. I paused taking a moment to monitor my chest…. pleased that the sign of blockage was not there… but acknowledging a likely probability of its likely return down the way, “It’s been a while now… probably will need more as time passes.”

Randal joined us obviously pleased to be maintaining his connection fellow knights. Of late, Randal has herded three or so of us to a secluded table outside . . . The authorities kick us out of the big room so they can prepare it for the next event – this way we can keep talking.

Phil is looking for a place to live. He currently rents a room from a lady homeowner who is a hoarder. “The debris in three feet thick,” he said, illustrating the extent with a hand gesture.

“How do you deal with that?” I asked trying to mentally place myself in that environment. “Shouldn’t you move?”

“Yeah, should…” Phil retorts … But the cost of rental space in Southern California… Yeah, should, but can’t.”

“Yeah… tiny space…” Jim offered. “I’m at $1300 for my rental space… 12’ x 13’… room for a queen-sized bed… but not much else.” He held up a small jar of peanut butter and added, “hard to find a place even for this.”

“That’s not the worst of mine problems,” Phil notes, “My landlady has herself and three renters besides me… living in her four-bedroom house… with only two baths… one for her”

“Wow.” Roger inserts. “How do you handle that?”

“Very intimately,” Phil grinned and added, “We’ve worked out a routine… But, yes, I’m trying to find a better place for me… like to keep it down to under $1300 per month.”

Roger reveals his Jewish roots. I couldn’t tell if he is a practicing Jew or simply identifies himself by blood. He has a calm edge… makes me believe he is a man of faith… I’ll probe that subject as time passes.

Dave brought desert. We each had a slice… no concern about Covid… a sign that we feel as if we are moving away from that terror… at least not going to let it keep us from living.

I continue to be perplexed with Martha avoiding the round table. Again, today she settled at an elite table across the way.

Conversations there are kind of free for alls… everything from the latest songs to political grenades.

My hearing deficit makes it hard for me to keep up… but I make certain my hearing aids are on and strain to stay involved.



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