The best people.

I'm sitting in front of a man at a cafe who just finished singing the most beautiful blues solo along with the music that's playing. It was an instrumental blues song. He started moaning along with it in this just-gritty-enough tone. He's a gentlemanly-looking guy--one of those Irish-looking hats, a navy jacket, and khakis with a polo shirt. He's speaking matter-of-factly about the Vietnam war and being homeless for a while.

"Lucky to be alive," he comments, and talks about someone's sister (maybe his, I couldn't hear) who took him in and helped him get back on track. He's basically offering up his life story to a woman who complimented him on his singing, and I wish it had been me. I love people like this--people who have done so much that they're overflowing. They're probably either lonely or just naturally loquacious; either condition makes them eager to unload on anyone who will listen.

I don't know if he's particularly wise. I don't even know if he's telling the truth. Still, I love encounters like this. This person makes me want to get off my ass and do as much as I can. So no matter who he really is, I'm thankful for him today.