Hello!

      The day I discovered "The Old Man and the Sea," by Ernest Hemingway at a used book sale on Cal U's campus was the day I truly became a writer.

      Seven years prior, my best friend hallucinated and saw this book - no mention of Hemingway - I wasn't there that night,  but she described in detail how first a book, then a boat appeared on the TV. An old man materialized in the boat, but when he saw my friend, turned toward her and began to grow until he stepped out of the television. He told her she had cancer in her arms and was going to die. Seven years later, she did.

     An old man who reminded me of my grandfather had set up a table in front of the library. When I first approached the tables, I saw "The Old Man and the Sea."  That was when I first discovered Hemingway wrote the book. I had only ever associated it with my best friends bad trip. I thumbed through the book, but this ratty edition had notes in the margins.

     I thought, "If I want this book, I want a nice copy."

     So, I paid the man for the books stacked in my arms, and went to class. I had a two-hour break after that, so I bought a coffee and returned to the tables. As I was paying the man for the second time, I noticed the spine of "The Old Man and the Sea," by my elbow.
     "This is why I really returned," I thought.
      So, I bought it, too.

     When I got home, not only was the book 127 pages - what my mom calls our angel number. My birthday is 12-7 and her mother's was 7-21 - ironically, Hemingway's birthday, too - but this book was a perfect copy. No dog ears. No notes in the margins.  What were the chances that old man had two copies of the same book?

     I made a coffee and sat down, finished the book in one sitting. I was propelled by the book's alignment to my journey with my best friend. The parallels between this classic tale and my own were dumbfounding. Did Hemingway ingest some sort of psychedelic and see me and her? Hemingway claimed there was no hidden symbolism, just a story, but to me, "The Old Man and the Sea" meant so much more.

     The book ended with the old man brutalized after a long fishing journey alone, but the young boy who was forbidden to take the journey saw the boat, and ran to the old man's house. (My dad actually used the word forbidden after me and my best friend were arrested for pot possession.) The young boy attempted to deliver coffee, but when he arrived, the old man was sleeping. He was dreaming of lions, and as indicated in earlier passages, signified he was at peace.

      Finding this book was my way of finding a sense of closure with my best friend's passing. She was telling me, somehow, she too, was at peace. The discovery of this novel and all the coincidence that came along prompted my quest, to discover, to read, and to write of the crazy experiences of my life and the great times I've had with all the people I've lost along my way.