It's been an interesting morning. I partied hard here at the house last night with my friend and his woman and was still in bed at seven thirty when Daniel knocked on my door. I put some nice threads on my old previously unshowered body, that I corrected yesterday, and we had breakfast on the Square.

Then we drove up into Amish country with drinks in our cooler cups and he picked up this custom cutting board that a young red headed Amish guy had built for him. It's big and beautiful and is going right next to his cooker on the covered deck.

On the way home I had him stop at the liquor store for supplies. The guy that runs the store is an uptight dude we call dick head. He is all business and doesn't interact well with people.

Until now. I asked him about some new vodka I saw a sign for, and he opened up about how great it is, and it's made in Bend Oregon. I told him I was a West Coast boy and I love Bend, OR, then he told me he was born there.

He said they moved from there to Pacific Grove, CA when he was a kid. I told him I lived in Pacific Grove (right next to Monterey) and was a computer consultant up in Carmel Valley in the late seventies.

Suddenly, our relationship changed. I no longer saw him as uptight dick head and I was no longer just the old drunk who bought vodka from him.

Sometimes you need to reach out beyond stoic interactions, and see what's on the other side.