There I was; I had just sat down in a chair at the Seattle Ferry Terminal. When I looked up, I saw it “dead smack” in front of me; clear as night. There was a poster that said; “IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING!” For those who move among the “known universe,” it is the familiar “Anti-terrorism/ Homeland Security” poster to make for a more safe transit system. For those who are “in tune” with the “known universe,” it is a poster that was the main theme of the very first blog I wrote on my new website almost one year ago called “Is this seat taken?” https://zuludelta45.net/2012/10/07/is-this-seat-taken/ Feel free to go back and read it. I do; if nothing else, to correct the punctuation, and spelling; ouch! Contemplating which blog would be the first from the Pacific Northwest, the answer came to me like the craving for Beef Lo Mein. I started thinking about the “new friends” I had made on my ski safari, and the stories I heard. Maybe the new blog entry should have been called “If You See Someone, Say Something” because that’s exactly what I did. For every person I stopped and talked to, I not only learned of the world they lived in, but got the impression people were excited, and proud, and appreciative that “somebody” cared enough to hear “their” story.
I laughed heartily with the woman in the ski lift ticket booth, who one day I gave my AAA credit card as payment, and the next day by accident gave her my similar looking AAA road assistance card worth nothing but a laugh and smile on a cold day. I met the Husband, and Wife who bailed out of the “rat race” in Detroit to start a restaurant up near the mountain so they could home school their kids, and occasionally teach that same school at night so the family could spend the day together outside in the snow. I wondered into the local post office where I had the honor to meet the Postmaster who moved from the desert sections of Washington “over the pass” to the base of Mt Baker (I can see the comments now; “Zulu, only you would trade your vacation ski time to talk to the Postmaster”). He not only helped me with my package, but spared his time to answer my questions. To be honest, I initially couldn’t distinguish his tales between a small post office in Eastern Washington, and a small post office in Western Washington but when he told me of his “postal domain” as would have the King of Babylon recounted his own empire, I felt privileged to be his presence and hear his tale.
I will continue to tell of my new friends, but for the moment, I think I’ll spend a little time basking in my fond memories of people met, and blogs written.