Regarding the feelings of others

Field report #13 – the monthly longer essay for supporters

Vintage postcard of Santa Barbara, Calif.

End of last week, I filed two magazine articles, which meant I had a couple days with room to write other stuff, so I packed a bag, hopped in the car, and drove two hours northwest of Los Angeles to work on a novel I’ve got stewing.

Then, Tuesday night, I arranged to see an old friend; I can only spend so much time staring at a screen. He and his partner rent a small house in Santa Barbara not far from the beach. We opened beers, walked the dogs in the park, then sat in his backyard while his daughter did her homework. The friend is a few years older. I’ve known him since I was nineteen. And it wasn’t long into the conversation, while the dogs ran around our feet, that I spouted something like, “I think I’m only interested in talking about feelings these days.”

His eyes lit up, he laughed. “Man, I know exactly what you mean.”