Walking. In Pursuit of Stalker.

~ Live & Learn

4:40 a.m. Daybreak walk at Cove Island Park. 788 consecutive (almost) days. Like in a row.

Yesterday, Eric (#1 Son; #1 on most days) and I were at the kitchen table having lunch.  Popeyes Spicy Chicken Sandwiches (and Cajun Fries). If you haven’t tried it, it is absolutely the best.  (And yes, it easily tops Chick-fil-A, Shake Shack, McDonald’s and Wendy’s. I know.)

Now, what isn’t as easily digested, are the calorie counts.  Chick-fil-A @ ~ 500 calories.  Popeyes sandwich tops 1200 calories. Add 800 calories for the fries, and what you have here is FDAs maximum calorie intake for an entire day, in a matter of < 10 minutes.

So, I step on the digital scale this morning…flashing, flashing, flashing, measuring, measuring, measuring, weighing, weighing, weighing…an interminable wait, that couldn’t have been more than 2 secs,….Then boom it locks in: + 2 lbs, day over day. WTH!

Mind races through yesterday’s meals.  Ah yes, Popeyes. Plus, 1760 mg of Sodium in the fries.  Another 1460 mg of sodium in the Chicken Sandwich = 3220 mg in < 10 minutes, a whopping 1000 mg over what FDA recommends daily.

That’s what we have here. An, old, fat, nearly retired, giant Salt Lick.  Disgusting.  Disgusted. So, was it worth it? You work so hard to cut weight and then blow it all up in < 10 minutes of food porn lust. 

I think about this while I’m standing on one leg, balancing, wondering if I have another 5 years to live. Yep, I’d have Popeyes again today for lunch, identical order. Saliva builds.

So, back to yesterday’s lunch.  Eric tells me that his Buddy was chatting with a friend of his who happened to mention that she walks at Cove Island Park each morning to catch the sunrise.  Buddy proceeds to tell her about his best friend’s Dad and his daybreak walks at Cove Island Park.  Eric, continues, “I think she said something like: ‘You know, I see this older guy at the park every morning. Backpack. Camera gear.  Doesn’t ever say anything. Really keeps to himself. Strange guy.'”

“She said that? Exactly that?”

“Not sure, exactly that, but that’s what he told me she said, yes. Doesn’t it about describe you Dad?”

I miss the last part of his response. No chance that is me. Nobody her age up at this time.  I am familiar with every one of the 4 park inhabitants at the twilight hour.  Nobody that young there. 

Eric continues. “Yeah. She even took a picture.”

“What?”

“Yes.”  He pulls out his iPhone, finds the photo.  That picture up top. Male. 6′. Close-fitting black tuque.

“That’s not me.  No backpack.”

Susan grabs Eric’s phone, “Let me see.”  She enlarges the photo.

“Oh, that’s you alright.  Look at the boots.”

It can’t be, just can’t be.  This is a small town, and even smaller at 5 a.m.  The odds would be low of Eric’s friend’s friend intersecting with me on her morning walks.  Very low. And I can identify each of the 4 walkers.

“It’s you.” She expands the photo further.  “Look at those boots.”

I grab the phone. Those are my boots.

“And what’s this Old, strange guy sh*t? …And why is she stalking me, taking my photo without permission?”

The hypocrisy of the statement isn’t lost on Eric or his Mom.

“Right Dad. Like your picture of the homeless lady on bench.  Not 1x but on 2 mornings. Or the lady running the Beach Metal Detector.  Or the couple sitting on the break wall. Should we go on?”

So, I’m walking this morning, on the look out for a female, Caucasian, 25-35 years of age.  Nobody here, but my antenna is up…watching for who’s watching me.

I get home. Send a text message to Eric’s Friend.

“OK, tell me the story.”

“I don’t think she walks Cove Island Park.  She drives over & then snaps a picture, and drives to the gym before work. Then one day you both posted similar photos 13 minutes apart and they were time stamped – – so I asked her. She didn’t start taking pics of the sunrise here, hadn’t really noticed them before, then her Mom died and everything came alive.”

Ah, yes. Leave it to my Son to get 1/4 of the facts straight. And then embellish (aka make up sh*t) that he knew would get under my skin.  Nicely done Son, you nailed it. Old. Strange. Weird. You hit the nerve endings.

I check the date and the time stamp on her photo:  November 2, 2021.

I flip to my Instagram posts on the same date. Ah yes, there we are. November 2, 2021. 7:20 a.m.

It was me…

And it was her…

Miracle. All of it.

Notes:

  • Photo 1: By Eric’s Friend’s Friend. 7:20 a.m., Nov, 2, 2021. Near Cove Island Park.
  • Photo 2: DK @ exactly the same time, same spot. 7:20 am, November 2, 2021. Other photos from that amazing morning here.

42 thoughts on “Walking. In Pursuit of Stalker.”

  3. I love this! Six degrees of separation proven, right here.
    Don’t know about no Popeyes nor Chick Fil-A – since they don’t have them up here in Quebec. I have heard they make for a delicious treat – treat being the key word 😉 I bet if you have one day of being good, the scale goes back down.
    I know I had sushi one night and thanks to the soya sauce as well… fat patate the next day. Scale was so mean to me…

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  4. I’m not sure what delighted me more – your family knowing which buttons to press or the beauty of the 788th sunrise or the knowledge that someone sees you when you pride yourself on being the stealth observer of the cove. Given that there’s so much I love about this, I guess I’m in need of the ‘love’ button yet again.

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  6. HOw delightful! And serendipity.

    And this line, “An, old, fat, nearly retired, giant Salt Lick.” Exactly how I envisioned you! 🙂 Not.

    But… you may want to give any deer you meet up with a wide-berth.

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  9. One of the funnier stories you’ve told in a long time. It reminds me of when I’m standing in line at the bank or checkout counter in a store, look up at the security monitor and see the balding head of an old man standing in line and then realize it’s me.

    Our kids know how to push our buttons because we taught them how to do it.

    Linking back to our exchange earlier this morning, I will remind you that grandchildren are God’s gift for not murdering your kids when the were teenagers ( or smart assed adults) 😊

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    2. Ya, a friend of mine was teaching me to use a pottery wheel. I was hunkered down over it and someone took my picture. When I saw the pic I had to wonder who the bald guy in the purple shirt was. I have a shirt just like that.

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  10. Well, he did say “oldER” man, not old — technically, that means you can leave Eric in the Will. And “strange” is relative — it is sometimes more compliment than not, lol. We’re never expecting how small the world really is, are we? I’m very glad you don’t really have paparazzi!

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  11. I’m sorry, but once I hit “giant salt lick” it completely went off the rails….😂 We do know how to push family buttons, don’t we? Glad #1 son is keeping you humble and Imelda Marcus is keeping you honest (“Nope, those *are* your boots!”) Still laughing….

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  13. I Love the reminder that in death whether it be a loved one or death of our self-identity or old story, that we begin to see and understand life more clearly and deeply.

    ‘hadn’t really noticed them before, then her Mom died and everything came alive.’🙏🏻

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  16. I read this first thing yesterday and now again. What a story! When I began blogging, my adult daughter tried to restrain me, quiet me with “too much, Lisa” as if it was her place to keep me in line. My husband reads at work, catches up to keep up with me, to see what’s underneath. My adult son calls himself an outlier because he has no social media. I do believe he finds me though. This post confirmed for me the certainty that my family watches…stalks me, but no longer tries to silence.

    Also, your photographs just keep captivating!

    Happy 4th!

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  18. I bet she doesn’t have red hair…since you didn’t notice her, ha! /// Thanks for being so transparent..the true confession on fast food, Wow…Its been at least 15 years since I’ve had fast food…and then it was only once a year on long car trips and the only choice was KFC… before that it was the once a year McDonalds for a Filet A Fish w/extra tarter sauce…I’ve broken my steadfast rule (one regular size bag a year) this year about consumption of Crispy Cheetos 4 or 5 (almost 9 oz bag and I am willing to share that w/family)…oh, & when it comes to Cheetos I wipe each handful off with a clean kleenex to get the excess Salt, food coloring & the orange evidence of Cheetos consumption…I’m sure it really cuts down on Salt intake…btw I don’t engage in social media…I only check the cell phone every day or two. We have a land line…a throwback to the past, different strokes for others…we need diversification…or life could be boring…

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  19. Admittedly I was laughing so hard that my stomach was hurting as I could visual the exchange amongst you, Susan and Eric :), not to mention the follow up with Eric’s friend. Thank you for sharing and good to see that certain things still get under your skin 🙂

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