A friend of mine found himself instantly and achingly attracted to a woman he met at a business mixer. She was an accomplished young executive, like himself. An extrovert who never met a stranger, like himself. Interested in politics, well versed in novels and music, beautiful and confident to a point bordering on cockiness. Like himself.
The attraction horrified him, especially once he realized it was returned.
She was single. He was married.
Police ordered everyone in the entire city of Boston to lock themselves inside wherever they were. Tanks rolled down city streets. Subways shut down. Gunshots ricocheted in residential areas.
So far, a 19-year-old kid has eluded this massive manhunt for hours after his older brother was gunned down by officers he attacked, including one he killed, in Friday’s wee hours.
“Up since 3:50 a.m. and can’t get enough of this story,” wrote one of my Facebook friends who is a journalist. “Woke up the troops around 4:15, and a long day ahead. Hard to explain to non-journos, but I can’t imagine doing anything else at a time when so many rely on us to share information.”
I’ve been in news for 15 years and am well acquainted with the instinct that drives us toward the center of action.
But I’m not sure that was the only factor at play on Friday. I’m not even sure it was the primary one.
I’ve asked my grandmother several times over the years to tell me about Maude Pick, her aunt Pearl’s lifelong companion and housemate.
Maybe because the issue has been discussed so persistently lately on the cable news networks she watches between Andy Griffith reruns from her easy chair on her lake house porch, but this Easter weekend – following the U.S. Supreme Court’s hearing of arguments on the Defense Of Marriage Act – she seemed more relaxed when talking about the relationship between Pearl and “Pick” (as Maude was known).
The video here was shot by my daughter on that lakeside porch in teeny Dadeville, Alabama. My mom and I are in a few shots, as is my parents’ golden retriever. It’s a little grainy and jumpy, and I wish I had photos of Pearl and Pick, but I love this all the same. Regardless of what you think about this issue, I hope it inspires you to ask your grandparents interesting questions, and to record their responses.
Life is short. Love is always.