The Walk of Death

This morning I had to force another conversation with the guy who parks near me at work. I think he and I are always both realllll sorry when we pull up to our spaces at the same time. So, yeah, for about 10 thrilling minutes during our walk to work this morning, we jumped from one brilliant discussion to the next: how confusing it can be to navigate downtown Fort Worth because some of the streets cross others at a 20-degree angle! (mmm-hmmm, yeah, no clue); how he didn't do anything all weekend; how the Rolling Stones are coming and they're old. Here's what it is. Middle-aged political activists and me just can't relate. We will always hit a ceiling called "small talk."

I can relate to young liberal activists because we can talk about young things like our weekend fun, our sordid myspace lives and upcoming festivals (AKA "festies") and concerts we pretend we might go to for conversation's sake.

And I can relate to middle-aged liberals who aren't activists because, while our political beliefs vary, these folks don't really give a care about the current political scene. Neither of us wants to talk about politics, and I have plenty of middle-aged topics stashed in my conversational repetoire, like Wheel of Fortune, aches and pains and how crazy young people are these days. So that goes pretty well.

Middle-aged conservative activists and I can exchange decent conversation, because while we don't generally "run around together," I know all about the pro-life cause, gun rights and how funny Laura Ingraham is.

Now, I know there is this common thread running through all humans called the soul, but this isn't the easiest subject to approach on a crosswalk, and I'm not going to unless said person goes, "So what do you think about eternity?" So if anyone can throw me a bone, just so we wouldn't have to talk about how he does the same thing at work every day and how I'm looking for another job, I'd appreciate it. Thanks.