*the unedited rantings of a fat 43 year old menopausal ex -talk show host * -married mother of four- read at your own risk - my spelling sux (add * ocd * adhd * lmnop * suv * dvd * y not me)



we went shopping for sneakers
at the beverly connection
a mini mall in the heart of hollywood

the selection is something to behold
an entire wall of singles
unmatched all facing right
in ocd perfect order
hundreds of bright clean nike swoops
and bouncy red rebooks

one pair for me – size nine –
slip on velcro strapped
white n yellow weave
i love them

kel was looking for slides
two pairs she choose
then worried she was spending too much money
the threat of a multi million dollar law suit
makes one frugal

so i tell all i will meet them by the cashier
off i go
the aisle is long – the store huge
i see the dad first
he is walking toward me
fifty maybe older –
a gleandale fire fighter hat on his head
a t shirt – unfashionable and worn
the man stood out in beverly hills –
he looked like he was from nebraska
he spoke first

“how you doing buddy?” he said smiling
to someone he obviously loved
i heard the answer
before i saw the face it came from
“I am so happy!”
a boy of fourteen – an adorable richie cunningham
his face flush with excitement –
running to his father
“they have my size on sale!!!!”

i passed –
not looking at them –
trying to give them privacy –
yet longing to watch how it played out –
this intimate exchange –
this real moment in the town of tinsel

i took note – spingle – ping –
pure – yes - thank you

at the cashier kel payed
as i looked at the revolving rack of sunglasses
behind me at the customer service counter
I heard
“it is blue with a zipper and orange piping”
the pain in his voice obvious
the red headed boy lost his wallet
i felt my heart crack

the father went looking for it
the happy boy from ten minutes ago
was now a distraught mini man
he looked my way –
i asked where he last had it
he told me – in a quivering voice
he wasn’t sure

this boy did not recognize me

his wallet – had 50 dollars in it
plus a tower records gift certificate
he had gotten for his birthday

putting out my hand to shake his –
i handed him a hundred
the way mobsters do movies
folded up tiny
i snuck it into his palm
before he knew it was happening
happy birthday i said
and walked away

the urge to stay –
attached to the result – was huge
but i did not
i walked out of the store –
knowing in that twenty minute period
i was both the giver and receiver

the vessel – the soul –
the dark and the light –
both things and all
at once

god is real
i have always known this

three weeks later
my agent calls
quincy jones wants to talk to me
why I asked
she didn’t know but assumed –
as did i
it was work related

i called mr jones
he knew the red haired boy
and wanted to find the wallet woman
who looked a lot like me

six degress of kevin bacon
me richie q u