|"Do I know you?|
One of my favorite bloggers Jon of "Lone Star Concerto" wrote a blog posting on the lack of spontaneity in his life. He wrote about one of his experiences when living in southern California:
"Late at night in Hollywood it wasn't unusual to see streets blocked off while scenes for movies or a TV series were being filmed. One night I was walking home and the street I needed to access was blocked by a filming crew. Annoyed and a little drunk, I simply kept walking - right through the set while they were filming.
The director said "Cut!" and then he yelled (at me) "Who the f--k are you?"
"I'm an unpaid extra," I told him."
The question the direction posed to Jon "Who the f--k are you?" struck home with me. Isn't that question a great metaphor for our lives? At least my life. I liked Jon's answer: "I'm an unpaid extra."
That folks is the STORY of my life. It seems that all my life, when I encounter someone I don't know whether it be from my childhood to my encounters here in Gayberry (Rehoboth Beach and environs) Land "Who the f--k are you?"
Doesn't it seem to you (and you and you) that we constantly have to prove that we are somebody? That we matter?
Even my own father seemed to pose that question to me even though I was his the first of his three sons; sometimes the way he looked at me it seemed that he was wondering "Who are you?" More than a few times he accused me of not being his son, that they got the babies mixed up in the hospital where I was born. No matter that I'm almost the spitting image of him (especially as I grow older) and I have just about all of his physical mannerisms (much to my chagrin). Sometimes I even wonder to myself, "who am I?"