The corner in my neighborhood...wtf...

There is something truly strange about this corner near my house.

It's pretty much the most inconspicuous looking corner I could imagine. It could be anywhere in Los Angeles. Except for that bench and table. I think that's what makes it special. It's a place where people can sit down for a minute. And where there is a place to sit, people gather, especially in a neighborhood like this, one vibrant with different communities, ways, and walks of life.

It's magical though, I swear. The other week I came hear, down low in the darkness, feeling some somber vibes. I needed out of my house so I came here. Hoodie low, headphones on, my guitar in my lap as I strummed random chords, seeking oblivion in the confines of music. At one point I took a deep breath and looked up.

There was an aged Latin American man standing there

Skin dark leather folds, with a guitar in his hands. Everything basking in this weird golden hour glow. The light that special kind of yellow orange that just screams LIFE! He didn't speak English and my Spanish is less than passable. But, still, back and forth we chatted in an odd way, guitars the language between us.

He handed me his, he took mine, he strummed some chords and beckoned me to follow. Unskilled as I am I quickly retreated to being the audience. Chord after chord, note after note. You could tell he had really been playing the 40 years he claimed. Strings stretched and vibrated in ways I had never seen before, or at least this close. It was a natural rhythm, filled with the years of life it had taken to learn them.

I smiled and did something I hand't done for a very long time.

I trusted in the experience and just let it flow. My suspicious nature, nailed into my mind from years of catlike maneuvering to try and stay in business, for the moment lulled. Trust, a word that has become to foreign to me through the years battling just to exist. Trust, the thing so important to life and growth as a happy human being. Trust....and I let myself do it. The visceral experience of the moment quickened my heart.

Those deep, somber vibes began to melt into something in the lighter blue range. His playing warmed me to the core, more than my giddy smile could express. He laughed in return, I think in some ways aware of what he had done. 'Twenty minutes, everyday,' he said with a wave after a final song. Just twenty minutes a day...never give up...trust...damn.

Talk about the universe literally kicking you in the balls.

Could you get any more cornball. Sad man playing guitar, a chance encounter with an older wiser player, perfect sunset, wisdom and inspiration imparted, a smiling farewell? Like, wtf. But, like I said, this corner is magical.

I meant to tell a completely different story about this corner.

About what happened today, and how the universe followed that nut-shot up with right hook. I mean, another, WTF moment. But, I think I'll tell that next time. Got a lot of other stuff still to write tonight :)

Thanks for stopping by and reading about my magical neighborhood corner, lol. Funny, the things that happen in our lives when we stop and listen to the world for a minute.

Michael