Youth is never lonely. They constantly attract each other with the force of gravity, if only to complain how lonely they feel. If you want to know authentic loneliness, look for it in the quiet corners of Senior Citizen's Centers. In medical clinic waiting rooms. At bus stops. It makes you feel uncomfortable and sometimes unreasonably mad at the lonely old person -- why aren't they more optimistic and outgoing?
Loneliness is like some kind of social tuberculosis -- it creeps up on you gradually. I still don't think of myself as a lonely guy -- until I do. A certain slant of light at sunset; the sound of distant train horns; quiet Sunday afternoons; a brief email from one of my kids, carelessly spelled and filled with brittle brightness -- these kinds of things put me in a hole in the ground, waiting for the sexton to come by and fill it in.
But we were talking about Swedish meatballs, right? That was on today's menu, along with carrots. There was also canned peaches for dessert, but I decided to pass on that. The meatballs were served over rice, with lots of rich brown gravy, and they tasted pretty good. Of course, I didn't have any breakfast -- just a cup of Bengal Spice herbal tea. So I was ready for a good lunch. Hunger makes the best appetizer.
Not that it matters, but I counted 44 seniors at lunch today. And maybe they're all happy as clams and never get lonely. My perceptions are often lousy.
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