I wonder if I’ll be able to make this post special.
I wonder if that’s especially necessary.
Yesterday morning, after I parked my special car directly across the street from special Fenway Park in Boston, I saw a woman with this bag:
I thought that bag was so special, I asked her if I could take a picture of it for my blog. She agreed especially quickly, saying: “This bag is so old!” (Deflecting compliments is a not-particularly-special thing that many special people do, around here.)
Then she said, “I’m special!” And I replied, “Of course.”
Here are some other special things I saw, after that special encounter:
Here are three of my special associations with the word special, on this specially rainy Saturday morning:
- I am especially ambivalent about being treated like I’m special.
- We are all special.
- The ways we are not special can help us connect to others, in very special ways.
I am going to end this special post with a special song, before I get ready to see my special hair specialist, Mia, who is very special to me.
Do you think a comment from you needs to be special? No matter what you express here, I can specially and authentically say it’ll be special.
Special thanks to Chrissie Hynde, to the Pretenders, to all those who do not pretend, to the special stranger with the special bag, to all the special creatures I saw yesterday, and — of course! — especially special thanks to special you, for reading this “special” post.