stranger in a strange land

had my physical therapy appointment today. this damn arm just kills me. so anyway, there i was being electrically stimulated, which i complain about but secretly enjoy, watching my hand jump and twitch without my control.

there was an older woman across the room from me, one of those ones who probably doesn’t have enough people to talk to in her normal life. she needed to fill the empty space with sound. this reminds me of the song by uncle bonsai, describing a certain type of man:

just like the marching bands they heard as boys, they need to make some noise

to prove they’re there

anyway, this lady wanted to know if i knew anything about crystals. well now, i’m from boulder colorado. and i did spend a couple years hanging around a hippie new age store as a child. so i told this lady that she shouldn’t wear her new quartz crystal bracelet, and that she should wash it in distilled water and leave it in the sun for a day to cleanse it of strangers’ energy. this is very good advice, exactly what the people at the hippie store would say. except, of course, i don’t believe a word.

got me to thinking about all the people i have been in my life. of course there is a consistent thread, the profound draw to the alien, in both the science fiction and immigration and naturalization services senses. but there are people i have been in the past still with me in my head, and some of them i barely recognize. what was i doing in that new age shop? for that matter, what am i doing hanging out in an egyptian coffee shop now?

will this i, too, become an unrecognizable stranger?