Gilroy, California, Last Stop!

I love how the conductors on the train are always so excited when they announce arrival in Gilroy. As a place, this is probably the most praise it gets among people who aren't particularly inclined to like garlic.

As I walked the train, looking for the remnants of the paper, I was sorta hoping that I would run into Eric, a cyclist I met on the train back in late October. A man with moderately sized dreams, his life was quite nearly in shambles - pretty clearly not going the way he wanted it to. He was stuck in a shitty cubicle job, paying off debt. He wanted to shoot windsurfing films. Skysurfing. One of those. I wish I had gotten his email so I could send his name to someone. Ask him for some footage. Find some way to shine a light in the tunnel.

I guess I'll never know how that story ends.

--

I'm all packed and I move back to LA in a week, and I'm spending half of that week with UU folks, writing the stories of our lives. I'll know how those stories end, someday.

That's not very poetic, but it has potential, doesn't it?

See ya Monday.