Street Magic #1:
I walk out to my car in the pouring rain and find a note under my windshield wiper carefully wrapped up in a plastic bag so it won’t get wet. It was from someone who believed they left a scratch on my rear left bumper. They apologized and left me their phone number in case it was an issue. I looked at my bumper and laughed cuz it has scratches all over it as a bumper should. I tend to think of my car like a skateboard. It’s a mode of transportation and I don’t care if it gets beat to shit so long it runs and can get me to the mountains and the ocean and get my tools to my jobs. I’ve just never really been into cars in that way. My dream car had always been more practical than shiny. For me it’s simply a tool…and truly incredible to own one. I am often awestruck that I get to own one of these machines…but I don’t really care that much what it looks like.
So I text the number and thank this brave and honest stranger. I explain that I am not at all concerned about scratches on my bumper. I thanked them for giving me a restored faith in humanity and asked if I could buy them a cup of coffee or something to express my gratitude.
They wrote back! They expressed a shared restored faith in humanity and agreed to let me buy them coffee. So we met up at a cafe a few days later and she turned out to be an herb farmer and brought me a jar of herbs which had all kinds of personal significance and relevance to various things going on in my life…particularly the oats that were in that jar…that were part of the tea…that when harvested early promote a calming a effect.
We sipped our coffee and talked about the trials and tribulations of being tiny business owners. We talked about the earth, farming, evolution and politics. We talked about other local farmers that we both know and we networked about ideas and dreams.
Street Magic #2:
My pal Stud’s birthday is coming up. We are going to attempt a huge hike on her actual birthday. In the meantime I had this thought hit me this weekend where I imagined how fun it would be to try to get her some Red Sox tickets as a birthday present. Stud enjoys a baseball game at Fenway Park and has been known to spontaneously buy herself a ticket and take herself to a game. I have been known to join Stud every couple of years for a game as well. I am not much of a Red Sox fan nor am I much of a sports fan in general but there is something really fun and magical and nostalgic about Fenway Park and I’ve had some fun moments in the bleachers. The last time I sat in the bleachers with Stud we watched this drunk dude being obnocious and yelling and waving his arms annoying all his neighbors. Finally some dude a few rows back yellws at him, “Hey! Sit down ya fuckin mahshmellow!” Drunk dude turns around in slow motion and comes back with, “You calling me a fuckin mahshmellow?!” Security was on that shit and escorted the guy out pretty quick.
Approximately two hours after thinking the thought of how fun it would be to get baseball tickets for Studs birthday, a random stranger approached me and asked me if I wanted some Red Sox tickets. Like literally the same morning I wondered if I could get tickets, they just appeared in my hand…This guy was traveling from out of town and bought really good seats for a game that got rained out and he had to leave town before the rescheduled game and he literally just walked by me sitting on my stoop and asked me if I wanted them. What?! They are first row lodge box seats at first base and I have definitely never sat that close to the action before. So Stud and I are going to go to this baseball game in the middle of the afternoon….and it’s suppose to be sunny.
Street Magic is real.