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Just say yes

Last night when I was leaving someone I know's loft on 17th St, where I'd had an errand, her neighbor had his door open, half a dozen people sitting around his kitchen table. We said howdy & he asked if I wanted a beer. Sure, why not. He was making dinner for a bunch of people he didn't seem to know ("Sorry, what's your name again?" he asked one) & asked if I wanted to stay. I did—but I didn't. I wish I had. It felt like these were my old friends, I just had to remember how we all knew each other.

The last time I recall this sort of random invite was decades ago when Pecos & I were driving from Maine to Detroit. A late-night stoplight in a small town on (I think) U.S. 302 in western Maine, & a kid leaned out of a second-floor window. "Ya wanna come to a party?" We did.

I never worried that Something Bad would happen. It was all an adventure. Hitchhiking, I met a guy who turned me on to Paul Strand; a guy who drove me hundreds of miles out of his way, dropped me off & turned right around & drove back; people who told me their troubles. I think it all still can happen if I'm not too busy every minute, or head-down on electronics.
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