The old man parked in the grocery store parking lot and walked confidently toward the store in his tastefully trimmed white beard and one of his favorite go-to hell hats. The mellow yet powerful sound of a saxophone caught his ear and he turned to see a young guy dressed in the classic Hippy style with long, black hair. The young man was standing way back off at the corner of the building next door putting out a rich, blues sound. The old man whispered to himself under his breath, “this young guy’s standing way off from the crowd blowing strong and sweet, that’s a man calling out for attention, help, and love”. The young man had his sax case laying open for change and the sharp old man turned immediately toward the music, he’d never seen anyone playing for change on the street in his little town before.

The old man took two dollars out of his pocket and held it out as he approached the young musician and when the young guy stopped playing to take the money the old man began talking; bombarding the nineteen-year-old with questions that, much to the delight of this inquisitive senior citizen, sparked answers and ready conversation from the musician.

when the old man got the gist of the young man’s story he began praising and sharing short, succinct stories and adventures of his own long life that reflected how their thinking held much in common. They quickly, there on the sidewalk, covered a lot of common interest and philosophical ground and came to an absolute agreement that self-expression was one of the most important aspects of their life and spirit, for the young man it was music, for the old man it was about writing about everything that got his attention in God’s miraculous creation.

There was a wonderful, copacetic vibration between the two men, and it looked like they might grab each other in a big embrace but the old man, not wanting to wear out his welcome, decided he probably had encouraged, and praised the young man just the right amount and needed to just leave him with all the warmth and love he felt for him……….

When I came out of the store, I gave the young man a big wave and shouted, “good luck”. He stopped counting the little bit of money he’d made and waved back. I could feel the big smile on my face and couldn’t wait to get home and tell my wife about the sax man.