"The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery." - Anaïs Nin

'All about us, arrayed like terra cotta warriors to the farthest horizon, millions of like denizens bare their desires and seek after a kindred soul, alone in this crowded space...' - RazzCat

Paraphrasing Rick Blaine, "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine"... while in the background, Sam plays it: "You must remember this / A kiss is still a kiss / A sigh is just a sigh / The fundamental things apply / As time goes by..."

Who am I? A passionate, reflective, romantic, chivalrous, vain, courteous, opinionated, considerate, mischievous, eclectic, dedicated, lazy, dynamic, loyal, tolerant, impatient, multi-faceted, intellectual, gregarious, shy, impulsive, procrastinatory, naive, worldly, trusting, cynical, bien dans ma peau, still seeking love's grail, ready to try pretty much anything at least once, confidently optimistic ordinary guy.

What am I looking for? An intelligent, attractive woman who doesn't necessarily agree with me and isn't afraid to articulately express her own views, preferably not sourced via Globe, Oprah nor Dr. Phil; one who appreciates that nothing I believe is so ingrained it cannot be modified through reason and/or a well-informed rebuttal; a woman whose intellect and beauty will cause my breath to catch in my throat, whose intelligence will bring a smile to my lips while I intently argue the counterpoint to her position for no other reason than the sheer pleasure of listening to her thoughtful discourse; a woman who enjoys the sensual thrust and parry of dialogue with an enthusiastic co-conspirator.

What do I enjoy? Reading - good fiction, especially of the techno and speculative variety... Learning - about pretty much everything, especially scientific and technological (still haven't quite decided what I want to be when I grow up)... Fixing things - there is very little of anything mechanical, electrical or electronic that I won't tackle, usually successfully... Cooking à deux - sipping wine over the rituals of preparation while conversation, the gustatory scents of dinner in the making and romantic anticipation gently simmer 'neath the warm glow of soft-lit tapers... Dancing - when the music's right, I'm compelled to get up and move to its beat, preferably with a lithe, responsive partner in my arms... which can lead to a longg, slooww, ssoofftt, ssennssuouss, ssuulltryy, ssiinnuouss, sssteeaammyyy sssedduccttionnn - just getting there can be so-o-ooo-o much more of the fun...

Some things I've done: swept warehouse floors; signed million-dollar deals; sweated on the assembly line; sparkled in the executive boardroom; worn blue collars, white collars and no collars; addressed business audiences of hundreds; managed teams through crises, real and imagined; danced in drag in a can-can chorus line; sung in the choir of a community theatre group; acted as an extra in a bunch of movies (if you blinked, you missed me); downhilled with the Ski Patrol; swum off the Gold Coast; snorkeled off Seven-Mile Beach; surfed off San Clemente; windsurfed in Paradise; fed the pigeons in Piccadilly; rode the TGV; climbed the Tour d'Eiffel; wandered the halls of the Louvre; cycled the lanes of Utrecht; sniffed the scented airs of Bangkok; helicoptered over Manhattan and the Florida Keys; camped out in the California desert; skated outdoors in San José sunshine; shed tears at the magnificence of Dali's Santiago El Grande; burst out in unrestrained laughter with the sheer upwelling joy of a cell-permeating love; suffered abysmal despair after the inevitable supernova and collapse of that stellar experience; been poor, rich, destitute, comfortable, coping - life's a helluva roller-coaster ride. Still looking forward to whatever's around the next curve, but it's a whole lot better when shared.

Come ride with Sherman and Mr. Peabody (c'mon, surely you remember Rocky and Bullwinkle!) aboard the WABAC machine: 'It's 9:30 on a warm Friday evening, August 15th; four young guys hangin' out at a Rosemont gas station keepin' a buddy company while he works. We're swappin' tales 'bout cars and girls when the radio DJ mentions an outdoor concert takin' place just a coupla hundred miles south. So, never havin' seen an outdoor concert, Rod, Pete and I pile into Bob's big Ford sedan and drive down into New York state. It's 1969 and in the early hours of a Saturday morning, we find ourselves walkin' along a country road with tens of thousands of other music-seeking lemmings. The night's mild under a duvet of stars, the air carries fragrances of countryside and nearby farms. Since we parked the Ford and stepped out, it's been a continuous low-key party with bottles, pipes and joints being passed around; took my first-time-ever toke when some cute girl offered it soon's I opened the car door. Everyone's talkin' with everyone else and we all seem dazed to find so many others like ourselves, drawn to this place in the deep of a summer night on a whim. By the time we reach the concert site, the human tsunami has overwhelmed fences and we all just shamble onto the grounds. Coming over a rise, we see the broad expanse of a natural amphitheatre in pale pink-tinged dawning; a valley filled to the brim with a rainbow-hued mass stretching off to the distant stage. WOW!!! So this is Woodstock!...' That weekend expanded my consciousness in so many ways.

Music is an essential component of my well-being. A few years ago, I discovered RadioParadise.com, absolutely the best (IMHO) no-commercial listener-supported radio on the 'net. (Fair disclosure: other than being a huge fan, I have absolutely no connection to RadioParadise!) The owner/DJ, Bill Goldsmith, mixes alternative, modern and classic rock, world, electronica and lots more. Where else can you hear Arcade Fire, Jeff Buckley, Peter Gabriel, U2, Amadou & Mariam, Bach, Dave Brubeck, Leonard Cohen, Moody Blues, Nick Cave, Roy Buchanan, Neil Finn, Pearl Jam, Vivaldi, Calexico, Poe, Gypsy Kings, Flaming Lips, Mark Knopfler, Paul Simon and much more all in one place over the course of a few hours? I love this station.

Like the Grateful Dead sang, "What a long, strange trip it's been".

- Take my hand, woman-child, and let's explore...

'Life is a journey to the grave, not with the intent of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to slide in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and exclaiming through peals of joyous laughter: OH, MAN! What a ride!!!' - Various anon.

:)

It's early evening; the sun's lengthening rays brush lacy cirrus clouds with a pastel wash of gold, orange and mauve. We've only just met for the first time, recognition abetted by wardrobe cues we'd described to each other in another phone call two days ago when, once again, you delighted me with your humour and intelligence, and set my pulse quickening with that sensuous lilt in your voice.

Slowly, we stroll along the boardwalk, eyes taking in Ste. Anne's sights - boisterous families, watercraft swaying lightly at their moorings by the dock, terraces with canopies of every style, other couples subtly displaying the state of their relationship by their intimate or disinterested positionings.

But mostly, we gaze at each other, gathering visual cues and quietly assessing while we smalltalk to get beyond the initial trepidation. By turns, we unwrap the narratives of how we came to arrive at this time and place, revealing ourselves hesitantly, each intently listening to the other's voice while our eyes continue their discreet exploration.

Ambling toward the dockside café where we'll dine, we occasionally brush shoulders as we move to let other strollers by, initially self-conscious at the unintended intrusion into personal space. But with the gradual thaw brought on by twinkling eyes, warmth of voice and shared confidences, a comfort develops replacing awkwardness with awareness of the momentary spark in serendipitous touch. When our hands brush in passing, it feels more sensuous than any contrived clasp.

We glance at each other, a connection is made and we begin to notice ever finer details in each's features while ceasing to notice much of the world arrayed about us. The focus of our attention slowly spirals inward to encompass little more than the two of us, and mutual awareness heightens while our surroundings recede and fade. And in a cosmic waltz gracefully circling in approach to some singularity's event horizon, with time seemingly slowed, we reach the café...

... wait a minute, did I say café? Sorry, I meant pizzeria! This humble little hole-in-the-wall pizza joint serves the best thin-crust wood-fired brick-oven pizza this side of Napoli; and it's licensed!

A little clichéd perhaps, with the red-checked tablecloths, Chianti-bottle candles and the red-white-green theme throughout but it's unpretentious and the scent of baking pizza is mouth-watering. We sit at a table that grants us a view of the river and gently swaying boats in the waning light of day. Guiseppe greets us and takes drink orders, red for you, white for me (red gives me a headache, I confide).

With menus in hand, we continue relating our lives' vignettes, usually prompted by the other's question. The conversation percolates...

(I'd love to go on, but it seems I've reached the word limit for this section.)

...To be continued, if not here, then maybe at Guiseppe's...

;)