RiverBender Blog: Hanging Out With My Best Friend (AKA My Grandfather)
My grandfather and I are best friends. I don’t know if he knows that, but I firmly believe it. We have spent a lot of time together one-on-one, watching the news and sipping coffee. His is black, mine is pale with all the milk and sugar I add. We make a sweet team. When we fall into silence, it’s comfortable, but I try to keep up a steady stream of chatter anyway. I’ll talk about anything and everything and, above all else, nothing, as he politely listens and tries not to nod off. And, inevitably, we get into some odd conversation topics. I start by mining my life for interesting ideas — “Work is going well,” “Listen to this funny story from the RiverBender.com office,” “My cats did the silliest thing this morning” — but when I run out of anecdotes, I start casting around for other topics. Maybe it’s natural, but I end up thinking about my own interests, and then I end up giving impromptu run-on speeches
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