she wasn't trying to pick me up

[franksolich]

I had a conversation with the soil scientist, who came up this weekend from the University of Nebraska, hoping to do some last-minute analysis of the William Rivers Pitt, the 740-cubic ton mountain of antique swine manure from 1875-1950.

She picked a lousy weekend, and got nothing done; we had had the same storm on Friday that others east and southeast and northeast of Nebraska are having now, or just had.

The soil scientist, who is from Maryland, met me through her best friend, a blonde graduate student (agronomy) from town here, who had illuminated her about the William Rivers Pitt, the result being that the soil scientist spent much of last summer here collecting samples of vintage swine manure to determine what's in it and how it decays. 

There's probably hundreds, thousands, of mounds similar with the William Rivers Pitt scattered all over wherever pigs have been raised, or are being raised, but apparently the William Rivers Pitt is the only one with a recorded, verifiable history.  To everybody excepting soil scientists, swine manure ultimately ends up looking just like plain dirt, and so they don't pay attention.

But we couldn't deal with the William Rivers Pitt this weekend; too much cold, too much snow, too much wind.....all of it previously unpredicted.

So we sat around and talked.

I inquired of the meaning of comments made by her best friend, the blonde in town.

At first, the soil scientist said, "Well, people are curious about you, what makes you tick."

That's hardly unusual, I commented; ever since I was a little lad, I always had people with M.D.s and Ph.D.s as their last names looking me over, and it continues to this day, the most recent example being the ancient elderly gentleman who used to mow the lawn here apparently stating to one of his sons that he has no idea, no idea at all, how I manage to go through life without having any idea what's going on.

But, I added, my life is an entirely and wholly open book, free for examination by anyone who is equally free to draw their own conclusions.

The soil scientist, who lives in Lincoln, confessed she had been checking up on me with people down there; I was immensely flattered (but only secretly) to learn how many still remember me, from college professors to hardware salesmen to attorneys to janitors.

She gave me a really vicious tongue-lashing, undeserved, I thought.

I have no idea what picture of me she's forming inside her head, the perceptions of women being an utter mystery to me, but she was definite about one thing; she alleges I have a lifelong "history" of showing up somewhere out of the blue, and then abruptly disappearing, as if a guest running out on an errand too minor to mention to anyone.

At which I got a little hot; it's true that I suddenly moved to Pennsylvania from Nebraska, and to New Jersey, from Lincoln to the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants to Omaha to the Sandhills of Nebraska, but it was no last-minute decision; everyone had ample warning.

It has always irked me that hearing people sometimes are deafer than I am.

The soil scientist had not dug deeply enough to learn that as a teenager, traveling with other teenagers, one dark winter night in Calais, I had slipped away to take a train to Rome, the rest of them spending two weeks looking for me (there were six of us, and we were unescorted, at the ages of 17, 18, and 19 years; I was the youngest of the party; after that, for the next two months, none of them let me out of their sight, which irked me considerably).

But I had given them ample warning; Rome was our objective, and once we got onto the continent of Europe, there was no point hanging around until we got to Rome.

She did however cite the example of when I took off for the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants, saying many of them had alleged they had known nothing of such undertaking until reading about it in the Omaha and Lincoln newspapers.....a day after I had already "dashed" away to "the other side of the moon," with no means of illumination and communication.

I was pissy about that; I had given several months' warning that that's what I intended to do, but all these hearing people weren't listening, or if hearing, not believing.

"You pop in and out of lives, and people never get to know you," the soil scientist claimed.

Well, if they'd listen.....

"[Her friend, the blonde in town] looks at you as something both intricate and fragile; the 'you can look but not touch' feeling, because if touched, you'll shatter.....or evaporate into nothingness."

Well, I have no idea; I've managed to get through life all these years doing what I do, or have done, and as it hasn't been a bad life, I must be doing something right.

[terry]

When I read what you wrote, it made me think of social greetings.  It reminded me a little of my youngest son and my husband.   My youngest was a late talker.  One of the things that was sited as a "symptom" of his "delays" was a lack of social greetings. He was different than most very young children in that he never said "bye bye".  It's apparently one the things children usually say very early on.  He is older now and still does not say good bye when he leaves one place for another, unless he is reminded to do so.

When the phd's and md's were telling me this about my little son, I was thinking of my husband.  He has the same lack of social greetings.   When he is finished with a phone conversation, he hangs up.   When he is at a family event, sometimes every one will just notice that he's not there any more.   In business situations and more formal social situations he does end things appropriately because he knows he should, but it is not his natural way.  Even in business situations though, it's always "this what we will do next.." or "I'll talk to you again soon.. " not good bye.

This has always been a social quirk of his, it annoys me but I accept it.  Other folks label it as rude and get quite upset about it.   I suspect what you do that upsets people is the same thing that my husband does but on a much bigger scale.  Everyone knows that we are all going to leave the party, everyone has ample warning about it, but just knowing that is different than saying "I'm leaving now, see you later". 

I can really understand why your young friends in Europe were upset with your early departure from Calais to Rome.  If you are traveling with a group and you "slip away" to another city it can cause them great inconvenience.  When traveling together there is an unwritten social obligation to look out for each other.  If you wanted to go to Rome before the others were ready it wouldn't take much to tell them the exact time you were going, so they wouldn't worry.  You were young, that stuff happens, but if I had been traveling with you that would have upset me.

What strikes me as weird in you post is that someone, who seems to be a mere  acquaintance is digging into your background and confronting you about your life.  That seems much more rude and bizarre than anything you have done.

From the little I know about you, you are intricate but not fragile. I think you're doing a lot of things right.

Edited to add:.. oh and I still think she was trying to pick you up.