After leaving the park from whence I was posting, I drove by another park along the Mississippi, and decided to stop in.

I was sitting there on a swinging bench that looks out over the water, and this old guy comes walking by. He says, "So you're just out seeing the park too, huh?" Me: "Yep." Him: "I'm an old bachelor, and I just get so bored and lonely, with no one to talk to." He then mumbles, "I'm sure you don't want anyone sitting here, bothering you", and starts shuffling away.

So I slid to one end of the bench, and offered him a seat. Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking, either. But after that last comment, I would have felt like a turd if I hadn't.

He told me he's 75, going to be 76 in October. He has a hard time remembering a lot of things now. His dad lived to 89, and his mom to 92. I told him he must have good genes. He said, "I was the youngest in a big family. Lots of brothers and sisters, and they're all smart and good looking. I came out goofy and dumb." At this point, I came to the conclusion that I like this guy. He then told me about when he was a kid, standing there chopping onions in the kitchen, and his mother told him about how he was born two months early. And he told her, "It was all hot and clammy in there. I had to get out." And she grabbed the big knife he was cutting onions with, and sliced his head clean off. It rolled around on the floor for a bit, then she picked it up, and put it back on, backwards. Hey, I'm just telling you what he said.

He then rambled on a bit about his friend at the lodge that he used to go do things with. The friend was older than him. Said he can't remember his name anymore. And how he worked at the railway in Waite Park from the time he was 18, and they shut down before his pension was due, but he had worked long enough for an early pension. Then he got up, told me he had bothered me long enough, and shuffled off.

If I keep posting things this mundane, I'm going to need to start a blog. Or maybe just find some kid in the park, and tell him about it.