I am writing today from my long-time favorite coffee shop, back home in Glenwood Springs. This is the coffee shop where I wrote poetry on paper napkins, laughed over silly things with high school friends, composed my valedictory address, caught up with friends on visits home...it is a restful place for me. Looking forward to afternoons in this quiet place is one of the more exciting parts of this move back to my old stomping grounds.
The new job has been a joy thus far, even with the usual stresses of starting new things. I spend my days laughing with a hilarious group of eccentric homeless folks. Some are bitter and hard. Some just make me laugh with their resilient humor (and occasional drunkenness). At times, most will give a glimpse into a soul saddened by finding themselves in such a place in life. They are wonderful, teasing me, watching football with me, and teaching me a few tricks on the guitar. Granted, it isn't utopia. A few people creep me out a little, and the drunkenness is as ornery as it is funny. But the life found in those personalities provides something akin to rose colored glasses most days.
Yes, here I am, back in the kind of small town where the coffee shop is about to close...at 4 pm. But I'll be back, me and this borrowed Mac. Back with stories to tell.