I have a newsmagazine, I say. I don't remember which one. I don't read the cover to find out. I tell this one, a stranger standing on the street, I say, it includes a film clip. Isn't that marvelous?
He says, says this one on the street, oh, boy, more TV.
I say, yes, but it's a newsmagazine. His eyes glaze over, and I've missed my ride home in the telling.
I set out walking. The route is from my old high school home, forty years ago and more, but I set out.
Someone in a pickup picks me up. Hi, he says. I'm Mitch Romney. I'd like to be your president.
I determine to remember what he says so I can tell Niki J when I'm home. Maybe this guy is famous. He might even be in the newsmagazine. I listen very carefully, and he doesn't stop talking. It's as if he's broadcasting. I don't feel the need to say anything at all, because once I begin to encourage him to continue, he's already continued over me anyway. I just nod and act interested, like back in school.
So I just listen closely.
And when I'm home, I rush to tell Niki J. I say, guess who I rode home with. Mike Romney, the presidential candidate!
Oh, says Niki J, without pausing what she's doing, which has nothing to do with Mick Romney nor politics either. What did he say?
That's the funny part, I say, puzzled. I don't know.
You rode home with him and you don't know what he said?
No, I admitted.
He must be the quiet sort.
No, no, he talked the whole ride. It's just - his words were like breathing. They didn't cling together. They didn't say anything. They were exactly like the hum of the engine. It's a complete mystery. I thought at the time we were having a conversation, I mean, the sort you have with politicians anyway, and now that I reflect on it, there was nothing there.
What's that you have in your hand?
What? Oh, this. It's a newsmagazine. With the most remarkable content: a video clip! Inside the magazine!
Whoopee, says Niki J. More TV.