Today I met a fellow at the Misson and 16th St. bus stop waiting for the 22. He was older, a little slow in speech and must have been from the streets by his dress and smell. He wore a smile despite the weather and told me his name was Gordie (spelling?). The most memorable moments of our conversation went like this:
Gordie - "Good people are good. Nature is good. The Birds ... feed 'em (gestures throwing seeds on the ground) and it comes back."
me - "What comes back?"
Gordie - "All goodness comes back.
You're good, talking to me.
I'm good, talking to you,
and ... well ...
I am ... well ... I don't really know what I am."
(we pause as he looks down as if trying to solve himself)
me - "I don't think anyone really knows what they are."