40 vs 20

Fixing a finger or a thought on an abstruse relationship is a bit of a bear. I am happily enjoying the unveiling of Tracy and Kathy set loose on Salvador. Now that they are awake and getting out of the house they are quite a sight to see. The jet lag and cozy digs are a definite deterrent to exploring the city at first.


In their element, these two take symbiosis to another level. They selflessly nurture each other in overt and subtle ways, spotting a photo op for each other, leveraging their strengths as a support system to be shared jointly, laughing lots together and make the world softer for each other and folks you jump on their wagon. Gently knowing when to push and give space, offer a snack or a pit-stop. A few discreet moments I have felt a twinge of isolation outside of the dynamic that binds them. But, generally in the end that is my own stuff and not what they seem to be suggesting as shared adult play.


They have created many transfer points to exchange ideas, emotions, critiques, love and knowledge. I am reminded of the sappy Mexican love song I heard every day on the bad San Francisco kitchen radio satellite programs, “Cuarenta e Veinte”. It was moribound and sloshy drunk like a jilted, sloppy chubster down on his luck. He had hopes that his love wouldn’t fall for someone her own age, and he could contain her, as impossible as it all seemed. Conversely, they have mastered, sans the love tussle, the beauty of relating across generations. It’s a nice gift to share and to see unfold. Thanks.