Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 265

B"H had perhaps said something to harm my ego. We have specia l connectivity that includes my willingness to appear at his behest whenever he may urge upon me to visit, but is always humbly regretful and typically contrite that he's bothered me to trave l into a beyond that juts off from the ganglion of modernity. Early this morning the call ca me for me to be present when he demonstrates the fantastic gadget h is private one -ma n corporation has contrived. The gristmill of Urban Aggravation now churns us out abnormal rates for entrance tickets and participation in the societal venue. To stay in the race we must subject ourselves to intolerable and adverse stimulatio n all the livelong day ; standing in long lines at the doctor's office, the supermarket, bank, pharmacy, restaurant, and every public establishment thrust amongst strangers all under the pressure of hustle and bustle, eager to get through the experience as quickly as possible. Sweating in the crowds fro m crossing the street because of heat rays arising fro m the blacktop that covers roads. However, a friend is a friend, meaning when Happy Joe calls, I come. Happy Joe was nuts about cashews but those sold in t he local market were bug infested, so I cane empty handed. I apologized profusely and he informed me that he had a stock o f a few kilos stored under refrigeration. The sensory pressure and warmth of Happy's hand impressed a precious sense of fa miliarity i nto my hand; we "read " someone's palm every time we shake hands with the m, the tactile sensation of friendship, sheer joy to those to who m it e manates and fro m those who m exude it. Owing to the fall te mperature s, I came fortunately and propitiously attired in my leather jacket ; his ra mbunctious slap on my shoulder didn't cause a quake amongst my fragile osteoblasts, and I caught my glasses before they flew to the ground. He was leading me upon the path through his courtyard in which we had frolicked through the developmental years; memories flowed into awareness sensitivity consciousness . Each step brought me closer to an imaginative retrieval of the joy fro m memories of youthful days we spent in the hearth and home of his loving and devoted parents and ext ended family. The garden and courtyard was cultivated with trees and plants that were quite co mmon but arranged to have the feeling of coo l fresh breath of life. Those were the times when the 265