Breakfast With Brian

Breakfast with Brian this morning at Georgies Diner. Crispy hash-browns, real orange juice. The Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon was perfect, the black coffee kept coming from the trim waitress. Straight black hair, liquid Obsidian, a shiny waterfall like the coffee itself with each pour

White breasts, confined, pushing out above her stained red apron. Brian was there with young Michael, his special needs Grandson who shares his life, a handsome boy, happy to concentrate on large bites of Feta and spinach omelet. It was when we first moved to St Augustine some 23 years back that I found myself at Brian's place one late afternoon, a rural setting on the outskirts of town. The house was filled with people milling about in an intoxicating aroma of fresh spaghetti sauce and dream clouds of ganja, drifting lazily from the back room. Bonnie Raitt sang familiar tunes from speakers that flanked an overstuffed couch. Spontaneous live music sparked with approval. I felt right at home. Over the years, I've know Brian to be a guy who lived the change he wanted to see in the world. Grounded, spiritual, philosophical in his approach to life. He's one of the good guys who actually cares about people and the planet we live on together. He spends the lions share of his time now as guardian and caretaker to his grandson. That's the best possible scenario for Michael, but it becomes quickly apparent that Brian is the one who benefits the most from their relationship. One could say that Brian has “given up” his life in his dedication to Michael, but the fact is, Brian has truly found his life, his raison d'etre. He and I always have fun discussions about the meaning of...well, everything. We speak of god and men. We entertain ideas and smile at the folly of our need to use time as a yardstick, knowing that no such thing exists. Endless possibilities served back and forth over a net of salt and pepper shakers that hug a colorful selection of stacked jellies. Both of us would readily agree that ultimately, we “know” nothing. I love talk like that.

This world would be a vastly better place with more people like Brian in it, but since he's too big to run through the copy machine, I'll just have to be satisfied with our shared moments over breakfast at Georgies Diner. Same time, same place, next month. Great to see you, Brian.