This Weird Guy’s Letter To A Fictional Old Man Who Saved A Bunch of Ducks From A High Teenager At The Park Will Give You All the Feels
Dear old man at the park; you’re probably about 100 years old, so I don’t expect you to ever read this or even understand the Internet. What you don’t know is that when I watched you save those ducks from that high teenager, you saved my life too. I was at the park listening to my podcast, thinking about Benghazi, and it was one of those low moments that only Buchowski or Zach Braff could understand. I thought about leaving the industry. I thought about packing up and moving back to Reseda. And then this high teenager shows up with a squirt gun full of hot sauce. I think it was chili garlic Cholula. He was probably on benzos or ketamine. I’m not part of the drug culture, so I can’t really make that call. He started hassling these ducks, going on about Hotline Bling and Vine politics. It was turning into a real quagmire of shit. A mess inside a quagmire, inside a unregulated Del Taco, inside a quagmire, inside another thing. And then you, sir, you stood up and said, “Get the hell outta here, pipsqueak!” He slinked off, and I swear to the all loving creator, however you may define her, my heart filled up right then and there. You restored order at the park. You restored order in my life. We didn’t share any words, not even a nod, but I went home that night and wrote what turned out to be Bridge of Spies. I’ll probably win an Oscar and I often dine/wine at Tom and Rita’s now, and this is all thanks to you, Old Man. Love is a funny thing. There’s romantic love. Familial love. Paternal love. Love Gun. And then there’s this kind of love. I am proud to have you in my community and I want to thank you for your service. “There is no try.” — Yoda. This will go viral, and you’ll never even know. God bless.