Such was the case when I caught up
with Wayne and Theresa Vincent. When we lived in Richmond, we were usually in a
hurry. Conversations were often in a parking lot with little time for more than
the basics.
Through Facebook, I found that
Theresa travels for her job, and her writings are beautifully descriptive of
the places she's visiting. While exchanging travel experiences online, Theresa
suggested we get together for dinner.
It wasn't until I asked for her
house address that I realized they'd moved into Houston. Once their children
all went off to college, the Vincents fulfilled a long-held dream of Theresa's
to move into the city.
Theresa loves museums, art, plays
and the opportunity to walk to the grocery store, and she wanted to take
advantage of what Houston has to offer without fighting big-city traffic.
Houston's eclectic Montrose area is
where they chose to set up housekeeping, and, during my visit, I could
understand why.
Montrose is a quiet, quirky part of
Houston. Numerous vintage clothing stores and coffee bars line the main streets.
Instead of generic store fronts, small shop exteriors are decorated with
contemporary art and flowering plants.
I seldom see people walking the
shopping areas in suburbia, but here, the sidewalks were filled with teen shoppers,
friendly dogs on leashes, and college students sipping on lattes.
Along residential streets, bungalow-style
houses reminded me of times when people sat on their front porches and greeted neighbors
out for an evening stroll.
Conversation for the Soul
Wayne and Theresa's Montrose house
is on a quiet side street, and they'd renovated and updated the inside of their
bungalow while not losing the house's charm.
Sitting in comfortable couches, we caught
up on what our now-grown children were doing, where they were working or going
to school and the many changes in our lives over the last 10 years.
Looking at the clock, Theresa and I
decided to grab a quick dinner as Wayne was heading off to his neighborhood softball
practice.
We stopped at Aladdin's
Mediterranean Grill in the heart of Montrose. At first, I wasn't too sure about
the place as the inside looks like it hasn't been touched since the 1970s.
With Theresa's encouragement, I got
in the serving line and saw foods I recognized. The servers were knowledgeable,
the service was quick and the food was delicious.
Over hummus and freshly baked pita
bread, we delved more deeply into the conversation the three of us had started
earlier. Like before, we didn't talk about work or whine about the size of our
hips.
We discussed life. Our hopes. Our
dreams. What's important. What's trivial.
I think the eclectic atmosphere
Montrose weaves – art reflects life and quirky is the spicy seasoning in life –
allowed us to step away from a surface exchange of information and enjoy a
philosophical conversation about what's important.
We can have a sterile discourse over
Facebook, but genuine dialogue is best when breaking bread together and
thinking deeply and honestly about what we want out of life.
Sometimes starting that conversation
is as simple as remembering that right around the corner, there's a big, huge
world out there.
We just have to be willing to peek
over the line.
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