I ducked into a place to have a seni-leisurely drink before going home because these days the subway trip is not sufficient to decompress.  I figured I woul return emails from friends and tweet or draft blog entries.  A gay man who was at the bar was pointedly seeking my attention by talking in my directionabout the differences in picture quality between the two TVs above the bar.  Since he was talking in my direction, I looked up.  He immediately slid closer to talk with me.

He kept chatting along, moving from one subject to another. But it was an insane topic-hopping.  He is just an older man without family in New York whose friends have died or are enfeebled and he probably didn’t talk to anyone that day before he caught my eye.  I listened and engaged in conversation for about one-half hour. Then I had to go home to my family.  And I realized what a gift that is: having someone waiting at home.

I think I’ll call my dad now.