richard radstone

Last night I picked it up while in flight, sharing my tale of noise pollution and briefly reviewing September 9th’s motivation to start 365 – again, an on-plane sensory experience of aromatic perspective.

This evening the air travel angels are with me, being seated next to the most charming Italian couple, beautiful dancer Giorgia, and very gracious musician Giorgio, both hailing from Venice. I could not ask for better travel mates.

We talk about 365, but in compassion to them and limited by very cramped quarters, we pass on making any pictures. They are planning to stay in LA for a couple of weeks, so  we are leaving it at getting together for an interview over the next week or so. Very cool of them. They have my card; hope they call me. Plus, I need to allow them their in-flight sleep time. They’re fried, having already been air cargo for eight hours and now undertaking five more hours of leg-cramp en route to L.A.

The last deal breaker: I have already photographed today’s friend and airport terminal companion, Reid.

Reid and I run into each other finding our gate randomly reassigned. Gate agent instructs us, “It’s just around the corner, Gate C-29.” For geographical point-of-reference, Reid and I are standing at B-11.

Off we go as instructed, “Just around to corner.” I love airports! Corner? Sure, if the distance is being compared to the length of a runway required to land a Boing 747. “Just around the corner” turns out to be the mother of all airport hikes, myself with 45 pounds of shoulder strap, and Reid bearing a bag on his lap the size of himself. The guy is a rock. I’m walking and fading fast and he is relentless. With one arm on the steering controls of his airport chair and the other holding his heavy luggage in his lap, he is my saving grace. Reid and his trusty chair blaze a path through the passenger-loaded thoroughfare and I’m grateful to follow his lead. Reid, thanks for the tow buddy, I owe you one!

As we race to C-29, I talk to him about 365. He is willing, but we are now both very behind in our need to settle prior to boarding. Myself anticipating a phone call and Reid crunching to get his stand-by arrangements worked out.

Fifteen minutes down and C-29 within grasping distance we are welcomed by a packed seating area. Lucky for Reid the line at the gate counter is minimal. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Reid is a great: extroverted, witty and highly intelligent, he scoots right up to the agent and in no time has a ticket in hand.

No waiting room seating to be had, I snuggle up to an architectural column and arrange my stuff in anticipation of getting a brief moment with Reid.

With pre-boarding calls calling out, we manage to find time for an extremely rushed interview and a few photos.

Here is what I find out.

•Reid has a Bachelors of Science Degree in Paleontology and is working on his Masters.

•He is traveling to Las Vegas as an invited presenter at a leading Paleontology Convention.

• One day he will be working as the curator of fossil exhibits at a leading museum (he expresses this to me as a goal, but somehow I already see him in the role).

We literally grab five minutes to shoot a couple photos and to express a few thoughts. I ask him to share words for you guys.

Words we’ve come to know, “Never give up!”

I leave Reid with this, “Thanks for what you do. My 8-year-old daughter loves Dinosaurs and knows what a Paleontologist is. Now I can tell her I’ve met a science superstar.”

He smiles at my words and disappears into the crowd.

Reid, knock’em dead in LV!

I’m going to do things a little different today. On a plane as I write this entry. No idea of who I’m going to photograph today. Had a short conversation with the flight crew, but no takers. Got to give them credit for what they do in making us all comfortable.

What is it with my seat assignment luck? Last time on the reverse leg of this same journey, I sat next to “Stinky Foot Man.” That is what inspired me to start 365. Had to type to escape the nose shock.

Today I find myself equally lucky, seated across the row from “Snore Man.” Snorers of the world, please do not be offended. I’m in your camp, being known to wail a touch in my sleep. But truly, this is no normal snore. It is magical and of epic proportion.

Let me see if I can communicate this sound in writing. The source of this amazing symphony of guttural volume is literally three feet from my left ear. Morbid curiosity sucks me in and I have to get a visual take. I peak to the left and am united in a team like gaze from passenger 32. We are obviously awed by the open mouth of this operatic performer. Enough visual, eyes pop back to enjoying the seat tray.

Standard headphones have no impact on this reverberating distraction. Even as I am typing, the volume and inconsistent cadence of sounds I thought were humanly impossible are resonating over my shoulder and into my head. Help! Anything to aid me! I contemplate packing my ears with cocktail napkins, but fear of self-injury halts my action. Yet I can’t help but be impressed by this virtuoso of artistic sleep. I accept the call to audience, sitting back to prepare for the performance to come.  But wait! My performing neighbor show signs of body shuffle. I pause; holding still with anticipation, not sure if relieved or dissapointed at the prospect of a canceled show. And feeling too self conscience to look left, and hoping my flying friend and sleep performer is not a nosy reader of my iPad screen, I accept the fact the show is probably over.

Now strangely feeling let down, I settle into the silence of jet engine whur with two questions, both unresolved, stuck in my mind: “Where do I get my refund for the canceled performance?” and, “Did I made it through the snore storm?”

The sky is getting bumpy, last approach announcement sounding. I must stow my typing escape and prepare for finding today’s 365 friend, hopefully in route to my hotel.

Just shutting down. Crud! Snore resumes. It’s going to be a gnarly landing!

Talk in a few.

After nine hours of travel, three of which are audibly abusive, I have managed to let go of my snore jitters enough to find today’s friend.

Tomorrow is a big day of business, and after my flight’s ear pounding, I really need to get some sleep, feeling the snore tale is enough journalistic travel entertainment for today, I’ll jump right in.

Say “Hello” to the happiest faces I’ve seen all day, Felicia and Fred, the front desk team at The Hampton Inn. From the moment I walk into the hotel their welcome to the world attitude and warm customer service make me want to move my family to Philadelphia.

We chat for a while and I walk away with a smile on my face. Fred, an aspiring business owner to be, tells me of his dream of owning an arts and crafts store. Being somewhat artistic myself I can understand his desires. We talk of product and his history as a Philly native. His advise for us all, “Never give up on your dreams, keep trying until they are a reality.” A messeage we’ve heard from so many of our 365 friends.

What can I say about Felicia? – the first of my two new friends to smile withe me this evening. Her energy is huge. My snap shot of her does not fully capture the excitement she has for life. It is undeniable that this lady is special.

Felicia, a 30 year hospitality veteran, expands on Fred’s point of about never giving up on your dreams. She says, “If you feel inspired to do something, do it! No matter how difficult or crazy, follow it!”

“I love what I am doing; every day I get to smile at a new person.” I’ve been fortunate enough to be the recipient of said smile today and can confirm its sincerity.

A few minutes speaking with her forces me to think about the moment. Her position on living, “If I had to live to this point over again, I would not change a thing.” We should all aim for this mind-set.

Without probing for answers, she goes on, “My life is graceful and peaceful with not much drama. Overall it has been good to me. I love where I am.”

We talk a little more about this point. I ask her to clarify what she means. “I’m not talking about career or status, I’m talking about where I am mentally, physically and spiritually.”

Felicia has lots of friends, many of whom she has met easily by just sharing a smile and an honest “hello.” She jokes, “If I die tomorrow, my funeral will take 3 days, so that all of my friends can attend.”

As we wrap up our interview, I ask for any last thoughts. Her parting words, simple and sweet, “I like everybody!”

Felicia, Fred, Philly, Thanks for the warm welcome!

This has not been the leisurely Sunday I have hoped for. I’ve got to fly out to the East Coast in the morning, have been jamming to color correct a project and need to deliver it first thing this week. Even though 365 is deep under my skin, I have to admit, at times it is a weight on my shoulders. Today is such a day.

Another Sunday is clicking away, and again, my family takes the hit. They have been so supportive, but I can see the stress on their faces today. I don’t blame them, it a bad daddy week for I’m having to miss Halloween night with my girl. Obviously I’m a little saddened. That accompanied by over 2000 frames of color correct and I’m about to hit the stress wall.

I’m sitting here at my computer, eyes focused at the screen, don’t even know what time it is, when this feeling hits me, “get up! Grab your camera and go outside, NOW!”

Twenty feet from my front door I hear laughter on the horizon. I walk to the corner to scope where it is coming from. It’s Aaron, the cool young man I interviewed a few weeks ago, walking his girlfriend Tatiana. We exchange casual talk and Tatiana say, “I’ve been hoping to run into you, your project is really cool.” I instantly know she is the reason I’ve been pulled from my desk. I ask her if she would like to be today’s 365 friend. She’s in without hesitation.

Big deal you may say, you run into an introduction. Maybe? But I prefer to look at is this way, It is meant to be. When I began 365, it was an idea. Now, and forgive me if I sound a bit spiritual or metaphysical, its becoming a calling. There have been too many encounters that link in some way, either by message or by connection. Things like: People who link to my family, 365 friends related to other 365 friends or my personal questions of the day answered by who accepts the 365 invite. At 52 days, I’m seeing stories that are weaving together to tell a tale of hope, strength and humanity. Every week it grabs hold of me deeper and the readership is growing beyond my expectations. I have no idea of where it is going or to where it is taking me. But, I’m in for the ride.

So on this stressed out Sunday, I welcome the opportunity to interview Tatiana, even if she is standing directly next to a past 365 friend. To me she is still a stranger and our meeting is by chance. Or is it?

I jump right in, “What word of council do you want to share with my readers?”

She is very thoughtful. “I want to be careful with what I say'” she says, “this answer seems so obvious, but it needs to be understood. Everyone says it, but I look at it in a different way. People say, live every day like it is your last.  True, we need to enjoy of life. It’s more than that though. It’s really not about partying or having a good time, it’s greater than that. What if today really is your last day. Are you ready? Your gonna be judged.”

Tatiana make the above statement, with no malice, no guile or judgemental hypocrisy. Her tone is youthful, laughing and kind, yet there is a knowing peace in her posture. And by her countenance, I can tell she is living her words. Tatiana is not dressed in religious uniform or overly conservative. Just a young lady, living her best to be a good person to herself and others. Quite normal, quite charming, quite inspired.

She goes on to expound on her council, “have fun, but don’t live recklessly, for yourself or others. Focus on doing good, because what if it is your time and you’re not living up to your potential or doing bad things. You don’t want to go out that way. You want to be remembered for what good you did. Make your Mom, Dad and people proud.”

Her dreams, go to culinary school, marry, have a family and open a catering company.

Tatiana has inspired me this day. It’s up to you to accept, or not, the reason I’m snapped away from my desk at the exact moment of her passing my home. For me, it is real, and my gut tells me I am meant to interview Tatiana this day.

It is a day of worship for many, and perhaps there is hidden meaning in why I am driven to write this entry.

All I can say is this, “Tatiana is on the right path and it is refreshing to meet a young woman with her perspective on living and faith, I am inspired”

Thanks for your words on living life the right way.

May all your dreams come true.

It’s Saturday afternoon. I’ve got a good head-start on 365 today, having run into Myly at the local farmers’ market gone art-wild.

At 51 days, my family has been patient. Sacrificing seeing me, even throwing me out of the house to work on 365. For the sake of wife and daughter, today I think I’m going to get right to the point. There is a window of opportunity opening to spend some meaningful afternoon time with them, so in collapsing my writing time, I’ll simply summarize how I meet Myly.

7:00am – Alarm sounds
7:01am – Hit 10 minute snooze (or so I think)
8:15am – Awake (Holy Heck! Crazy late for day)
8:30am – Out door with family
8:32am – Embark on drive to teach spinning
8:55am – Arrive at gym (class starting at 9:00am)
9:00am – Class grimaces at site of me dressed as Little Miss Muffet (its Halloween after all)
9:05am – Realize chicks dig a man in a tutu and men are inspired by my courage
9:10am – Kick into high gear for one hour of pedaling euphoria
10:00am – Class over. Hang out in front of gym waiting for wife and daughter to pick me up
10:30am – Approach cool deaf dude. He rejects me and leaves area
10:30 to 11:30am – Lick my wound as I chat with gym friends
11:50am – Family arrives to rescue me from 365 denial.
12:30pm – Meet Myly at the Canoga Park Farmers’ Market – On Ownensmouth, between Sherman Way and Wyandotte.

Part artistic dreamer, part entrepreneur and master of community outreach, Myly is full of energy. For an hour we speak of the past and future of the Canoga Park art and culture scene. There is no loss of enthusiasm in her council to all, “Don’t settle. Find what you are passionate about and go for it!” A thought that I’m sure we have all entertained from time to time.

Myly lives what she preaches. She tells me of her recent layoff of employment, “I was freaked at first, but them I realized it was a gift.” She has not looked back.

She tells me, “As a child I always collected things.” Things that became treasures to her. Things that she reused to feed her artistic self. She tells me, “I’ve never thought of myself as an artist, but more of a business person.” We talk of her childhood and her remembrance of, at a very young age, selling necklaces that she made for other people’s discards. I’m told, “I never dreamed that I would one day be supporting myself with the stuff I make. It’s totally rad.”

Yet Myly is more that an emerging artisan; she is a community activist. She shares with me her role in organizing a very successful art walk; one that takes place every year in Canoga Park. As we hit this point in our conversation the topic turns away from herself and toward the local businesses. “Before we started the Canoga Park Art Walk there were many vacant buildings on Sherman Way (the street that hosted the art walk), but the event is reshaping the visibility of the area and now many of the empty spaces are slowly filling with new businesses: several thrift shops, art galleries, restaurants, boutiques and performance venues. “We are only just starting the outreach and the community is responding to it.”

I give her a title, “Leader of the Community Brigade.” She smiles and expands on the title. “My goal is to turn this farmers market into an artistic destination.” Right now, and with the support of the farmers market vendor, she is in the infancy of her initiatives. So here is my part in supporting her cause.

CALL TO ACTION:
Readers, if you are, or know of an emerging artist who is in need of exposure, tell them about this Farmers’ / Art Market. And if you are looking for a different place to explore on any given Saturday, visit and support this fledgling market. There is food, produce and culture. It’s free to walk and only $10 for artists to set up a booth.

For information email Myly at vintagegrime@gmail.com.

I ask her of her dreams?

“One day I want to have a storefront loft space. Upstairs will by my place to dwell. Downstairs will be for you, with gallery, shopping, coffee/tea bar and cool place to hang out at night.”

For now she is content in her current business, Vintage Grime, an offshoot of her childhood passion, taking one person’s old items and turning them into marketable treasures. Visit her at facebook.com/vintagegrime

She is only just beginning. Let’s hep her grow.

Myly, looking forward to one day visiting you at the loft. Your Rad!

Later Gator!

Myly’s signature coin pouch, no two are the same

From left to right: Shane, Saya and Kevin

Not far down the road is seasonal winter wonderland. An outdoor ice skating rink that somehow shows up, almost overnight, every October: Same place, same date, same theme. I’ve driven past it year after year, always saying to myself, “one day I’ll take my family California skating.” I give it this title because it is the only way I can explain ice skating in a mall parking lot, at night, in easy weather.

Tonight I find myself passing this urban construct of winter. And as I pass, in it’s proven tone, the 365 alarm sounds, “stop there, now!” I’m learning to trust it’s strangely subtle voice, a diving rod of sorts that subconsiencously steers me in my 365 path. After 50 days of getting to know it, I have learned wherever it points I follow, and when I ignore it, 365 is difficult.

So it sounds, “stop there, now!” and I listen, not knowing why and not certain if I will interview anyone. Is this tonight’s starting point or an end point? I don’t know. I feel horribly selfish making my first visit sans family, but I have to trust. Without question, without self-justification, without thought of location or technical execution, I just go.

Entering the complex and to the cashier, I ask, “how much to skate?” I’m directed to a sign, $15 for adults, $12 for children. Good with that, I ready myself to report back home of my findings, thinking it wold be inconsiderate to interrupt these kids at work. I turn away from the counter and set stride to depart. The alarm sounds louder! “You must invite your new acquaintances.”

Glad I listened. Throughout this project I have been led to some of the greatest youth. From kids that scare me to kids that are at the top of their game. What is impressive is that most have shared words beyond their years, leaving me with the distinct impression, the future is in good hands.

Winter wonderland puts me in contact with three more of this select generation, Shane, Saya and Kevin, all great young adults, all with great perspectives, all with hope for what’s to come, and all with well grounded maturity in what they claim.

We spend about an hour talking: A little bit of sharing as a group and some one-on-one Q&A. Here is a compilation of their wisdom:

“Be nice to strangers, and do your part to make the world a better place”
“Learn about the deadliest sins and do the opposite”
“Be courteous to others, its common sense”
“People can be selfish, so learn to share”
“Say thank you”
“Be the first to open doors for others”
“Take care of the environment”
“Be spontaneous”
“Don’t over think, things always work out”
“Take risk, follow dreams, no regrets”
“There is a lesson in all we do, good experience and bad experience, it’s all about a positive perspective”
“Stay open to new things”
“Don’t live with what if’s, there is always a way back”
“There is a positive answer to every situation, don’t allow yourself to get trapped in the negative”

365 has again put me in the right place, at the right time, with the right people. I have rubbed shoulders with the future, a trio of passionate young adults, who, early in life, have managed to find a depth of experience.

What I choose to not publish is the few life issues they share. Events I assure you have gained them their bragging rights. I respect these future leaders, they have earned my regard and I will not exploit their life stories. This is what I will say, “they understand where they are going, who they are and what is important” How many of us can say the same.

Shane, Saya and Kevin, “See you on the ice!”

Sitting in the car, Michaelbrent driving. I’ve asked for the third time, “who is playing on the stereo.” He says, “if you ask me again, I’m going to punch you.” So engrossed in my entry, I’ve asked him the same questing four times in ten minutes. Some people can be too touchy, can’t they. But I love the guy.

Thinking there might be a little hunger snap happening, we decide to stop at for dinner as we are returning from a location shoot in San Diego.

Ah! Applebees, great place for a nice quite wind down meal. I’m proven wrong.

We park, walk to the door, and in route, meet Victor playing Harmonica as he sits on a bench in front of the restaurant.

The guy is cool blue. Turns out he is classically trained in music, holding degrees and is a local contributor to weekly jam sessions held at Applebees. That comment rolls of both Michaelbrent’s and my shoulder and we pay a price later. I’ll tell you about that soon.

But for now I want to tell you about Victor. For some reason I’m running into a lot of past military and/or families of service men and women. I promise I am not pre-selecting my destinations or planning on who I interview. I’m truly going with the flow in working to be as spontaneous and open to situation as I can. Victor appears before us and the voice in my head pushes, “he is the one.”

So trust me this is not becoming a political blog.

Why is Victor here. By first impressing, some may think he is homeless. That is the furthest from the truth. I’m even later offended when entering the restaurant, Victor leading, two girls at the front desk show faces of judgement at his stepping into the establishment. Kills me to witness.

I’m more offended by the loud tone and language coming from the three clean-cut sports dude screaming obscenities at the TV baseball game or the drunken women ready to throw their underwear at the dude singing Guns and Roses hit, Neil Diamond style. That’s the I’ll tell you later part of the story, meal is pretty much ruined.

Why is Victor here, simply to get a cold glass of Coca Cola and to hang out on karaoke night. Makes you rethink perceptions of society. Between Victor and my encounter with Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Boad a few day ago, I’ve been educated in appreciating the men who served in Vietnam.

Better yet, Victor is a killer musician. Some nights he jams with the crowd and walks away with dinner, provided by customers or management in gratitude for his talents.

Sure, he look a little run down, maybe even hard of luck. Let me tell you a little more about him. He is a proud husband and father with two children: A son studying music and a daughter enrolled in nursing school. Even told us of his giving his son his Les Paul for school and helping his daughter pay her tuition.

Victor is no transient, living within walking distance, he tell us of his two bedroom home and honorably shows us his veterans card as he explains how he supports himself via his military pension and disability.

Oh, here we go (and honestly one of my pet peeves), people living off the system. There is no way this applies to Victor. Now 65 he speak of working up until his disabilities became too unmanageable. He tells us of his obstacles. Not in a poor me way, or as a crutch, but with a very matter of fact point-of-view. No handouts wanted, completely the opposite. Even share with us he is recovering from a stroke he has recently had, explains he troubled speaking and slumped walk. Not alcohol, but a very serious medical condition. His teach are decayed, yet his smile a grand. The guys is a tank.

We learn of his exposure to Agent Orange, Bullet Wounds and Shrapnel still in his side. He continence is lucid and his spirit kind, inquisitive and humorous. He expresses only one concern, arising when signing his paperwork, asking and I think more joking, “are you guys Communists.” I assure him we are not.

Victor leaves with us these words.
“Enjoy music, play it, learn of it, it’s very good for you.”

Victor, keep jamming!

Hello, dear blog readers, random curiosity seekers, and people who stumbled onto this site while looking for the newest celebrity trainwreck (nothing here about the Khardashians, sorry).

You may notice a bit of a difference in this blog entry.  There’s a reason for that.  And the reason is simply this: I’m not Richard.  Instead, you’re going to be treated to (or suffer through) a “guest blog.”

My name is Michaelbrent Collings.  And when Richard asked if I would accompany him on his daily “365” and write about it from my point of view, I approached it with a bit of trepidation.  I’m a writer, so it’s not the words that scare me.  I’ve actually written best-sellers and had screenplays produced in Hollyweird.  But most of what I do write is either horror (ghost stories and books about serial killers) or light fantasy (kids who discover they are magic users and become embroiled in a battle to save the world).  And Richard’s blog – or as he would probably prefer to say it, the blog of the people whom he chronicles – is neither of those things.

But I agreed to give it a go.  Challenges are fun.

And almost immediately upon meeting his “365”-er for the night, I started to regret my decision.

Not because she was awful, or difficult, or whiny.  Quite the opposite.  It’s because she was simply delightful.  When asked if she would like to be a part of the project, she lit up.  “Sure!” was her immediate response.  And when she walked away after the experience, she literally jumped in the air and (I think) even uttered a “Yippee!”

Her name was (and, I suppose, still is) Janel.  Richard and I met her after a long day on the set of a photo shoot he was doing.  He and I went to dinner with the client and the ad agency people, and Janel came along as the significant other of one of the folks who was at the dinner.

And it was such a lucky thing that she did.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

Some people are defined by what they take in.  They are collectors.  Of information, of wisdom, or (in bad situations) of other peoples’ morale and energy.  Then there are those who are defined by what they give out.  Janel is one of those people.  She smiled.  A lot.  She wears her hair differently every single day.  She does yoga.  She is fascinated by humanity, but (I think) is still struggling to define her own.  Not in a bad way, but in a way that highlights the fact that she is still deciding what kind of person she will be.

And actually, maybe I am a good person to write this blog.  Because I do write fairy tales.  Tales of magic and fun.  Tales where the good guys win, and the evil-doers are punished.  And Janel, I think, is someone who is striving to discover the fairy tale within herself.

“Fit, healthy, and happy.”  That’s where she sees herself in ten years.  Not “in a fancy house,” not “surrounded by expensive things,” not “in this particular job at that particular company.”  But “Fit, healthy, and happy.”  She is energetic, spritely, and so it should come as no surprise that her personal vision for the future is one that focuses, not on the place, not on the thing, but on the energy, and on the feeling her existence will exude.  “Fit, healthy, and happy.”

“If you had any words, counsel, or advice you would like to share with my readers, what would it be?”

Janel is also something of a contradiction.  Again, not a bad thing.  Quite the opposite.  She has intricate levels that interconnect to create a person of unusual depth and passion.  So while she is a person who looks like she could probably run a 10K every day of the week and step it up to a full marathon on the weekends, she can also be quiet, and attentive.  She likes to talk, but doesn’t mind listening.  She seems as happy to laugh at another’s story as she is to laugh at her own tales of life and its idiosyncrasies.  Again, a rare quality.

So though at times she seems as though she is wandering through life on a journey to who-knows-where, she is also possessed of a certain inner assurance.  “I’ve worked for a three-star general,” she declares.  “He taught me how to be competent.”  I agree with her that competence is a quality rarely found, and much to be admired.  She wears her competence on her sleeve.  If she says she can do it, I have no doubt that it (whatever “it” may be) will be done.

And along with that competence, as though to balance out the happy, energetic, almost childlike quality that captivates those around her, she also has the ability to say something directly… and have it mean something.

“What counsel would you like to share with my readers?” Richard asks.  And in an eyeblink, she sobers, and says without hesitation, “Quit if you need to.”

Not idle words.  How many of us go through the motions, living our “daily grind,” and slowly dying inside all the while because we are too afraid to reach out and find something new – and better?  How many of us find ourselves locked into something – a career, a pastime, a relationship – that isn’t right for us… but just don’t have the personal wherewithal to simply stop?

Not Janel.  She tells Richard (and me, the horror writer turned anthropologist for a night) of her experience in grad school.  Pursuing a career she had dreamed of since she was eight.  And then realizing that something about it was wrong.  Something about it didn’t feel like it should.  What was I that felt off?  Simply this: she hated grad school.

So she quit.

The ramifications were enormous.  Starting, and perhaps ending, with the fact that she is no longer sure what she is going to do with herself.  Not that she doesn’t work – she does, and probably does an excellent job at it.  But “it’s not my dream job.”  And she isn’t quite sure what would be.

Which is, it seems, all right with her.  Because better to be a bit unsure of what the future holds that to suffer the certainty of misery.  She didn’t like where she was, so she changed it.  Obvious, really.

But how many of us could have done the same?

And even in that simple statement that her job isn’t her “dream job,” lays another implicit facet of Janel’s character.  She believes in dreams.  She never says this aloud, but it seems from the twinkle in her eye and the dimples that are so deep you can almost see through her head, that she does believe.  In the possibility of a better tomorrow.  The chance of a more perfect world.

In the hope… of hope itself.

Good night, Janel.  It was a pleasure.  And I hope your dreams come true.

Michaelbrent Collings is the bestselling author of RUN, Billy: Messenger of Powers, and numerous other novels.  He can be followed on Twitter @mbcollings, and his Facebook page is at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Michaelbrent-Collings/283851837365.  He also has a website at michaelbrentcollings.com.

Antoinette, 30 year veteran teacher to our California youth

You’re in the passenger seat with me. We’re cruising through suburbia and into the corner shopping center. Radio is on and we’re chilling to the tunes. Suddenly the music becomes silent. How can this be, we still hear volume, yet nothing is going in to our minds?

What’s up with this? two seconds ago it was a musical feast!

As if on auto pilot, we find ourselves being tugged by intuition towards two figures talking in front of the corner laundromat. The closer we get the smaller our musical background becomes.

We pull into a parking slip, just feet in front of them. We disengage the motor. As the silence grows, two incredibly interesting looking people take hold of our focus. With no pause our sub-conscience tugs us out of the car and drives us toward them. Well rehearsed now, we do the 365 pitch and get quickly rejected.

Yet even with the rejection, the conversation continues. We are smitten with the moment and the depth of character of our new acquaintances will not let go of our interest. At this point, who cares if we do, or do not, take photographs. “These people are amazing!”

“I’ll take it from here.”

To begin, let me introduce you to Antoinette, a very humble lady with 30 years of working in education, and the magnet that first catches my eye.

I sight her as she leans against the front window of the laundry establishment, child grandson at her side. At first it is uncertain to me as to how well she knows her confident, Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Boal.

But as I settle in to becoming part of the conversation, it rapidly becomes apparent that I have unintentionally wandered into a chance exchange between two individuals with dramatically different life experiences. What is captivating is the connection of humanity between them. I am taken in; there is no way I can change the path.

Antoinette, with great compassion, is mostly listening, later telling me of her empathy towards the Lieutenant Colonel, a Vietnam Veteran.

Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Boal, Vietnam Veteran, Man of Raw Wisdom

“You’ve got to visit back tomorrow, when I’ll have much more time to fully introduce you to him.”

Have you ever been with people who, just by only being in their presence, make you feel good about yourself. If so, you already have an idea of what spending time with Antoinette is like.

We speak of faith and patience in our fellow-man. Something she has learned through her 30 years of working in elementary education as a teacher’s assistant. Antoinette exudes a motherly spirit and one can feel her real concern for the people around her. I see this in the way she treats our Veteran friend Kevin, even comforting him at moments that I am overwhelmed by his stories.

I can tell this lady is special, a healer of sorts with great faith. An admitted Christian, she explains that is the source of her patience, inspiration and compassion for the world around her, “I’m a believer in Christ, I’m not perfect, but doing my best to be a good person.” She is the kind of person that sets a life tone worthy of mirroring. I’ll take heed to her example.

I ask her to share her council. Simple reply, “Everything is so fast paced now, you must have patience with yourself and those around you.”

This is a night of patience for me. A workshop of sort in unconditional acceptance and in listening, led by two masters of life, Antoinette and Kevin.

All in all, I spend over two hours communing with my laundromat friends. We talk of many things, with much of the time being monopolized by Kevin. No regrets from either Antoinette or myself. He is fascinating and filled with hard-earned wisdom.

So much so, that it is necessary to save telling you about him for tomorrows entry. Though this is a slight diversion from one stranger every night, it is the only way to give him fair representation and in keeping my blog entry to an acceptable word count.

It only took me 5 minutes to find my place this evening. It has been captivating, uplifting and at times a little scary, some back alley stuff I’ll talk about tomorrow.

All in all, I experience one more tutorial in reaching out.

My findings: “We all have stories, some dark, others not. But in the end, “it’s all good!”

My take away from a spur of the moment visit to a local cleaning establishment. “Ten minutes of photography, two-hours of humanity.”