i must confess, i have a thing for older men. like much older. 80. i was at kramer books with a girlfriend tonight chatting about the foundation when the cutest man in a seersucker jacket, hat, and kahki pants was seated next to us. i can’t help but notice. i’m smitten. he drops his napkin. i pick it up. he asks for a second glass of riesling. turns out we’re drinking the same wine so i agree aloud that it is very good. finally, my girlfriend encourages me to go in for the kill. i asked him where he was from and 30 minutes later we’re still chatting. he was born in nyc, boarding school in malta, foreign service, diplomat — whole nine yards. SUCH a darling man.

i’ve always had a soft spot for older men, ever since i was a little girl. my grandfather, who died of lung cancer when i was six, was (and is) my most favorite man ever. he could do no wrong. he stood 6’4″ and was my biggest fan. ok, not hard to be a fan of your average six-year-old but he was special.

tonight reminded me of the importance of reaching out. he kept saying how lovely it was to meet two nice girls from such a different place (we’re from texas and oklahoma–kinda like another country). i gave him my card and invited him to come by the studio anytime during the afternoon for tea and cookies. i hope he will take me up on my offer during his 1-2 mile daily walks. (i learned all about this sweet soul tonight – his walking schedule, his history, his interests, his love for brooks brothers). reach out to that cute soul next to you. it may have happened for a reason.

may you come across a nicholas on your hip and tranquil path . . .