What would it be like if...

I have often wondered what it would be like to have a friend or two that I would hang out with regularly. But it is not just that, it is that I long to have conversations with people, not  just to ramble thoughts and perspective in someone's 'Comments' section.   I wonder if any of what I write is at all welcomed, or do my words seem a bit to much.  The thing about a conversation is that it is not as linear as a blog or typewritten letter/e-mail, it has more dimension to it. (Sound, inflection, response and reaction of another that is immediate and ... there is something to give you immediate feedback, whether you are getting your point across, being understood.)

(It is like when...

I remember back in college I was a part-time student DJ at the campus radio station, and being part martyr and part shy I would take extended shifts on weekends, when the campus was like a ghost town, to play pretty much whatever I wanted.  I really enjoyed "pretending" to be a DJ and rarely imagined that anyone actually listened to, tuned into our station.  Yet, I took the job seriously, took pride in transitions, the flow of the show, the reading of PSAs and finding enjoyable music (at least to me) to play.  Truth be told, I rarely if ever knew whether anyone was listening or not... It was like leaving a long message on an answering machine (or 'voice mail' for those of you that have never seen an answering machine) with music interspersed and a few PSAs for good measure. (I remember even checking the expiration dates on the announcements BEFORE reading them.) [Funny, to train other people and then to hear them announce an event that happened, past tense, a few days before, and not notice until a few seconds after reading it...if at all.]   I'd occasionally call up the DJ on duty and before making a request, ask them to pick up the clipboard they just read from, pull the offending PSA and throw it in the recycling bin. (Yes, I recycled even then.)

I remember vividly the few times that someone would call the station on a Sunday morning to ask what song I had just played... Rubber Biscuit - The Blues Brothers... not knowing that the station was being piped into the dining hall across campus!  Shi! Needless to say, I had a great time "pretending" after that.

...yeah, kinda like that.) 

I guess I thrive on praise like a potted plant when given a little water, sunlight and perhaps a little fertilizer...

To wonder if there might be anyone I do not know that thinks the same, needs a conversation, like one needs a hug after a year of deployment to a war, where no one gets a hug until we get home...

That may need to be changed somehow. How? An official "No Homo" (to use the present vernacular) hug from another person might just relieve a little more stress, anxiety, and blood pressure... How might that change the face of the military?  I dunno. [Do a study on how hugs help combat "combat stress" which can lead to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)?]

Perhaps I should stick to looking for an engaging conversation . . .