Does anyone out there ever feel like a squid? If you scribble and scrawl you will be like a squid. A squid appears directionless and lacking coordination but obviously that is not the case. I am no squid expert but I saw one once in the Monterey Bay Aquarium. I stood outside the glass tank and wanted to mimic the squid. A squid must be liberated to be able to move like that. And squids or is it squid must have a core, they must be aware of what every arm and tentacle is doing at every moment. But they do appear to be so at odds with themselves and yet its that fluidity that captivates me. They can be so graceful if you look at them with gracefulness in mind. If you were to see me today at the grocery store I might have appeared coordinated to a degree but inside my mind was splayed and distracted. I had to be at the store to buy cereals and milk and light bulbs but I wanted to be outside in the air, walking in the woods with Lenny the beagle, breathing in the rarity of a dry Winter's day. When I came out of the store, there was a man at the bus stop who reminded me of my Father before he died. The day, though dry and pleasant for me has a northerly wind blowing and I guessed the man at the bus stop, who appeared to be in his mid eighties would feel the cold through his bones. I offered him a lift in the jeep. He gladly accepted. We had a good talk on the way into town. I turned the heat up and he told me snippets about his life. He sees his daughters every Sunday, they come to visit him. Once a week surely could not be enough to sustain him. His wife died when she was fifty two of cancer. I thought about my squid scribbles and decided they were the most pointless and self indulgent rubbish I could ever come up with. I dropped the man who reminded me of my father in town. I noticed his eyes were watery from the cold wind.