Time and Place

I don't believe in fate, destiny, predestination, or any of that crap. I believe life is a chaotic series of unordered events to which human beings assign meaning due to some psychological makeup in our wonky grey matter.

That said, I do find my stubborn, cynically-rational worldview challenged from time-to-time.

I find myself often in a weird position, just going from point A to point B where I'm called upon to help out someone.

Sometimes I initiate the interaction. I see someone who is obviously lost, upset, or whatever and try to help out.

Quite often, it's a lost or distressed sort who decides that, for whatever reason, I look trustworthy and asks for my help (in the form of directions or whatever).

I'm not including in this list the scam artists who always open with the same "Excuse me sir, but might you have a few dollars? My car is out of gas just around the corner and my pregnant wife is inside..." blah blah blah, though that happens a lot as well.

I've lost count of the number of folks I've helped get "un-lost" who clearly have English as a second (or third) language. I helped out some tourists who were very lost get to the right train to San Francisco. I'm still not sure what confluence of events got them to where I encountered them in the East Bay.

I'd think I "just have one of those faces", but I know for a fact that I don't. I've been described more than once as looking like a thug, especially in my sunglasses (which may as well be surgically-attached to my face).

The world is a freakin' weird place and I want to thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for making it so. Now if the FSM can just do something about these damn allergies...