Walls

Welcome Czech Republic, Paraguay and Argentina! I always hail my Country’s readers as well as Canada, which is also my family.

Walls keep us apart. A child of a pro athlete lived next door to us and started hitting our living room wall, then bashing his head on it, then throwing his entire body against it. He was three and I don’t think he liked naps. I was glad when the team didn’t make the playoffs as the kiddo actually broke a huge double-paned window and they thankfully moved out.

We live in a transient community of business owners, doctors, consultants, et al but are able to connect with a few neighbors.

I’m on Facebook but do not use it. I do not tweet, Instagram or anything else. I have my own social media. Adopt a dog, you’ll catch on. Eight walks a day as a pup that everyone will want to see because s/he is so darn cute, four walks later in life. Keep yourselves spiffy and you’ll have dates and new job offers regularly. Heaven forbid you might actually marry.

Well, I did. My future husband and I met at TGIFridays at lunch and left at 5:00 p.m. It was two weeks after 9/11 so a few strangers were talking about 9/11. We shook hands in the parking lot and he said we might call each other to see a movie sometime as friends. I threw away his phone number.

He called me the next evening for a movie and dinner, opened his car door, took my hand and never let go. We’ve been married for over 15 years. I met him because he wanted to go with me as I had a side job to my consulting, dog walking.

That first weekend he came with me on 14 dog visits. Later, after software dot.bomb I found him a place to live 1,000 feet from my place. Yes, we were walking a dog. After meeting all the parents, we eloped 15 years ago. That’s another story.

I don’t call it social media, I call it social networking. I’ve met some amazing people over the years, just by walking my incrediible old dog. Musicians, I even surprisingly ran into the couple who hired my father now 40 years ago. It was because of our dogs. Dad is gone but we get together at their home nearby, their dogs are gone, every once in a while.

Open the invisible walls. Here’s to Sugar, Spice, Jake and Wurli and my dear Chani. I water your tree in the Park. Get a real dog, and take good care of him/her. When my husband is home for the weekend Zoe wants to see him, then me. When we trade I just say “I’ve got the football” as in the proverbial presidential nuclear code briefcase. Cheers! Dee