the people that you meet

The secret life guy: Somehow a middle-aged technical writer neighbour of mine ended up confessing that he blog-squerades (has someone invented that word already?) as a 20-something German prison guard living (or was it working?) in London. Curious but too chicken to ask him, since I suspect he had one drink too many the day he told me, I have searched for his blog but am unable to find it.

Mr. '67: Walking a dog can occasionally lead you into conversation with strangers (though, sadly not as many as I'd like, as I am always on the lookout for friend-material). Usually the chit-chat is quite light, "Oh, what kind of dog is that?" kind of thing. But one fellow dog owner who opened up to me straight away was a youthful 72-year-old hippy who confessed that he is pleasantly surprised to be alive. I had mentioned having just moved here and he told me he moved here in 1967 and loved it so much he stayed. He spent his youth "doing very bad things" he said and is now determined to enjoy the life he is shocked to still be rocking (he looked nowhere near 72, hence my choice of "rocking").

Happy hardware man: Several weeks back I popped into a small hardware shop for some necessaries and the very jovial owner kept calling me young girl though he himself looked to be in his early sixties. Needless to say, I loved him and plan to make him my regular hardware stop. 

Silver Benz: (Well, I didn't actually meet this guy I saw yesterday morning but he truly made an impression!) A regularly dressed older guy turned my head around when I realized it was his shiny new Mercedes idling next to the garbage bin he was picking softdrink cans out of with one of those garbage pick-up stick/arm things. I crossed the street and watched as he drove from one bin to the next in a parking lot next to the beach.

Welcome to Vancouver's West End.