In which I am hugged by the third richest woman in the world

I got a hug from Alice Walton this weekend.  Here's how that happened:

I write for Crystal Bridges. The museum's founder, Alice Walton, was receiving an honorary doctorate from the University of Arkansas, located in Fayetteville, just half an hour down the road from Our Fair City. Alice, who is not crazy about public speaking, needed a well-crafted commencement address.  Crystal Bridges has a writer.  See the circularity there, and how it all comes back to me?

So I wrote one.  Then it went the rounds of all the various sizes of dogs here at the museum, who did all kinds of things to my nice speech, some of them not that nice.  Then it went to Alice, who liked it, but wanted a couple of changes and wanted it to run at five minutes or under.  Back to me.

(Photo by the Univ. of Ark.)

This was my chance to cut out the stuff the big dogs had muddied up, and brush up my own stuff, which I did.  Back to Alice.  Brilliant!  She loved it!  I'm a genius!  Saturday morning she gave the address, and I happened to be walking out of the Museum as she was walking into the Museum at about noon immediately following.  She saw me and hugged me and said several people had come to her and told her it was the best commencement address they'd ever heard.  I have a witness who was there and can attest to the fact that Alice Walton hugged me.

Personally, I think the speech's popularity has a lot more to do with the fact that we cut it to under five minutes than what was actually said, but I'll take it.  I'm on radar now as a writer of fine repute.  I'm Speech Writer to the Stars.  I'll be writing for the President next. It's just a matter of time.

And now for something completely different...

If you ever needed encouragement, or proof that the Impossible can be done:  observe the mini, mighty hummingbird, whose flight has been something of an engineering mystery for many years (actually with new photography technologies, they've kind of got it figured out now, see here).  Yet it can nevertheless hover, zip around at ridiculous speeds, and even fly backwards and upside down for a quick getaway if necessary.  John and I had a nice time watching this little female hovering around the feeder right over our heads on Sunday afternoon, as we were relaxing on the deck.  She announced her arrival with the buzzing of her wings, and we'd get quiet and watch while she buzzed and sipped, and then darted away to rest on a twig nearby.  I'm hoping she has a nest in the yard somewhere.  That's got to be some kind of good luck, right?

Not that I think I've had any shortage of luck lately.  I won't push it.

This weekend was another lazy and indulgent one. When G-rex is out of town, John gets a two-day sleep-over and we laze about like broccoli. It's actually sort of astonishing how little we can accomplish in 36 hours. We did get to Eureka Springs this weekend, just to wander around, people watching and enjoying the town's unique hippy/biker/couples-in-orthopedic-shoes vibe. A little something for everyone. I'm proud that I managed to avoid buying anything non-consumable.

Following that one outing, however, we were pretty much content to sit in chairs on the back patio with our fingers interlaced... listening to music, sipping cocktails and alternately sitting in companionable silence or shooting the shit, trading stories from our pasts, telling jokes, laughing. I think that's the thing that makes me feel so certain about us.  We laugh all the time. We laugh at ourselves, at each other, at stuff that happens. We share laughs at stand-up comics on TV, at movie scenes and things people have said. We share a sense of humor. I can't overstate how important that is. There have been times when I've been sitting at work and remembered something John told me two weeks ago and it still makes me laugh out loud.  I'm sure my coworkers all think I'm nuts.

'Course, chances are they think that anyway.

When I picked up Grayson on Sunday, we swung by John and Rian's for a surprise.  Rian decided to give Grayson her mouse, Chesney.  They have bonded in the few times G has had the opportunity to play with him, and Rian says she doesn't spend much time with the little guy anymore. So they asked me to drop by on Sunday evening so she could make the presentation.

Grayson is thrilled. He was almost speechless when she handed him Chesney's cage, but he sang a little "Chesney" song all the way home, and held the cage in his lap. He told me this morning he couldn't sleep when he went to bed last night because he was keeping one eye open to watch Chesney in the tank across the room. When he went to bed he made a stop at Chesney's cage to say goodnight. It was a very thoughtful gift for a sweet, gentle kid with a big, open heart.  

I'm no longer surprised, but I'm always touched by G's gentleness. He handles that little mouse so tenderly, and takes such unadulterated joy in it  He has a kind and gentle soul, my boy. I love that in him and fear for him because of it. The world is tough for the gentle and kind, sometimes. Our hearts are so tender, and the Real World we encounter can be so oblivious. Yet I still believe that the Gentle, the Sensitive, and the Kind live something of a richer, more rewarding existence than those more calloused. I think there's a whole spectrum of experience that we can access, but which is completely unknown and unknowable to others.

It's worth it--I believe it's worth the hurt feelings and self doubt and the pure, unremitting heartache of a sensitive existence -- to see the world the way we do. There's love in a little mouse, joy in a hummingbird, humor in our own mistakes and mis-steps, and transcendence in a moment of silence, fingers interlaced, looking at the sky.