Tallahassee—The hospital volunteers luncheon was well attended. In the dining room were white-haired beauties who donate their time to suffering strangers without expecting anything in return.
These are saints. They visit those undergoing chemo. They smile at the downtrodden. They hold the hands of the infirm.
And they are always on the job.
The buffet was fried chicken, potato salad, and string beans. Flower arrangements lined the tables. The entertainment was me.
I had been running ahead of schedule. So, before the luncheon I found myself wandering Tallahassee, admiring the local sites.
I had forgotten how pretty it was. The Spanish moss in the oaks is like something from a postcard. It’s hard to believe I used to dislike this town.
It’s a long story. I’ll give you the short version.
I lived in Tally for a hot minute. And by this I mean for a couple weeks. I rented an apartment not far from Florida State University, and I planned to attend.
A little
about my boyhood education:
I was a high-school dropout. I quit school because of reasons that don’t make much sense now. Later in life, I completed my education as a grown man.
I felt pretty ashamed about this for a long time.
After I finished community college, I applied and got accepted to FSU, and I was over the moon. I bought curtains for my new apartment. Scented candles. Throw rugs.
But my excitement was short lived. As it happened, I had not been accepted. A clerical error had been made.
I was formally rejected a few days before classes started. And on that disappointing day, I sat in my truck watching teenagers scurry to class, and I felt like the world’s biggest flunky.
I’ll never forget seeing a teenage boy on a skateboard who wore pajamas. He was on his way…