Monday, June 8, 2015

They come and they go.

 
At the Bleak House the other night, I asked my coworker what he was reading and he told me it was a book on reincarnation.  This initiated a  brief discussion on the topic, which veered off into ghost hunting, ghost tours, old villages  and past life regression.  I asked him if he had ever seen the films "Reincarnation of Peter Proud" and "Audrey Rose."    My coworker mentioned running into Pierre---a man who had retired a few years ago, and how interesting he was to speak with. 
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Over the years I've encountered a few people that have surprised me with their backgrounds.  Pierre had lived in L.A. in the sixties and had known members of the Beach Boys and The Doors when they were just starting out.  I loved to pump him for information and stories.  However, since they were just young then, there was no reason to make note of their activities.  (Screw you spell check---it is correct and I am not changing it).    They weren't yet anybody that "Enquiring Minds" wanted to know.
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He wasn't the only person from the west coast that I worked with.    "D" was also a child of the sixties, and he had married a wealthy socialite from  San Francisco.  Both  crossed paths with the radicals of the day, as people of that time were wont to do.  "D" had little good to say about Bob Hayden, although he said Abbie Hoffman was genuine.  D is a supremely intelligent man who had planned on becoming a Jesuite when he ran into the love of his life a day or two before he was to leave for the Order..    We  used to spend hours on the phone, pinging from one topic to the other until he transferred. Back then, we knew the phones would be monitored at exactly the ten minute mark as the system was archaic and would begin to hum loudly.  He made sure that the topic took a turn for the Baudelarian as he figured if they were going to listen, we should make damn sure it was worthy of it.   We shared a love of literature, music and art.  I miss our long conversations.
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I've mentioned my frient Scott numerous times and he also lived in Los Angeles for a while. Co-incidentally,  our paths had crossed before at various music venues in the city and we knew the same people.  He became a life long friend.  We used to joke that we should start a "non p.c . self help line."  NO touchy-feely...no special snow-flake.  We both conceded that we'd have people crying within five minutes and be banished.
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Jim was a coworker with a Doctorate who used to teach at a university in the U.S. until his mother became ill and he returned to help her out.  His specialty was bone forsensics and after attending a conference on the topic, he delighted in filling me in on how my cats would consume me if and when  I died alone in my  house.  It seems there have been numberous studies on the topic (with graphic slide-shows).
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Another individual with an advanced degree was "M", an ex-nun who rode a bike (not the pedal variety).  She was a Jungian who disappeared after her retirement.  Like her cloistered past, it was very difficult to learn anything about her.  I did manage to talk to her a bit when I took  an off-site workshop on Sexual Offenders with her, but she never let her guard down.  I suspect she thought people were making fun of her, but I certainly wasn't.   Even though I am an atheist, I am interested in the lives of nuns.  Not only have   I  visited convents in Quebec and read books on the topic, I've watched every nun movie out there.  I even have a collection of sacred music.     Sadly, to a large extent, she remained ellusive. 
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I was very young when I began my career and as a female, we weren't  always  welcome.  However, I formed strong bonds with some of the older guys on my squad and they opened up to me.  Even after he  retired, Chris continued to pop by for visits until his accidental  death.  He shared with me that he always had a love of psychology and would have loved to have studied it.  He had been young in Holland during the war and had suffered under that regime.   While my interest in World War Two was purely academic, his was heartfelt and personal.
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While I mean to write about it at some other time, it angers me when wives  suggest that there is no place for friendships between men and women in the workplace.  I find it very insulting and they couldn't be more wrong.  As I wrote, we had squads when I first started and  I listened to many a vent about an incident that had taken place.  On many occasion, I sided with the spouse and told them why.  Despite comments aired on websites that out homewreckers, most women merely show up at work to earn a dollar and not to find a man.  I have served as the Best Man and as the Grooms-Man for my male co-workers with great pride and honour.  In some jobs, the bonds formed run deep.
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These are but a few of the individuals who have drifted in and out of my work sphere over the years.  They certainly don't fit the stereotype.  Scott had once mentioned that a book needs to be written on the topic, with the names changed, of course.  Nobody would ever believe it.

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