Meeting Mike

So we have been meeting the most wonderful humans on this journey of ours.

This article I'm sharing below was written by our new friend, Mike who we met at the Toyota RV Rally we worked in Quartzite, Arizona recently.

Mike travels around with his buff yet sweet dog Clem (he has the BEST smile).
I fell in love with Clem right away of course, heck, let's be honest, I fell in love with both of them right away!

Mike is an incredible teacher, a writer, an excellent storyteller, the life of the party and an all around genuine human being. I feel very honored to have met him & I look forward to learning more from him as we all move through this continually surprising journey we call life.

When you choose to look at and tap into everyone & everything as having lessons to offer you. Your heart will open further than you thought possible and then love takes over and spills into every corner of your life. Magic...

It is my favorite lesson learned to date and I am thankful to everyone that helped me to see it as such.

Thank you for sharing YOU Mike <3

~One love...

-------------------------
On Feb 7, 2015 11:31 AM, "Mike Walker"
<[email protected]> wrote:

[I have so many adventures to tell you about now that i have my energy back, and they just keep coming. So where to start? Let's start at the one I had almost finished before I got sick: "An Introduction to Stacey & Brett." Tika hired them to do the heavy lifting at the Toyota Rally. They camp a lot out of their Toyota pickup equipped with two-person igloo tent, stove, lantern, ice chest.  Real camping.]

Stacey. Early Friday morning (16 Jan), I walked down the road going I don’t know where, past Tika’s RV parked horizontally in the vertical circle we’d made with our 31 Toyota Motor Homes, past George and Mary’s rig, past Dan’s rig where his Irish Wolf Hound pranced in his ten foot circle of high, free-standing wire fence. I was about to turn the corner toward the little wooden bridge when I first saw Stacey.

She had recently stepped out of the two-person igloo tent beside her dressed in jeans with the cuffs  rolled up wide at the bottom and a tee shirt or maybe a sweat shirt, I’m not sure. I didn’t notice her clothes right then because I was struck by the light shining from her head -- some trick of the just rising sun perhaps.. Stacey’s head is round with a darkish blond mane of straight hair and uncombed curls; there’s a  beautiful face with wide-spread eyes and lips and a mouth that were made to smile generously. Which is what she was doing at me, smiling generously.

“Nice morning,” I said, or something just as useless.

We had talked for a few minutes, I happy in her presence, when the sides of the tent behind her started convulsing.

“Big dog,” I guessed silently.

Oh, that’s my husband,” Stacey said.

She and I talked a couple of minutes longer before I turned for home. That’s when I noticed Stacey’s shiny black bike leaning on a tree. It was a new beach bike; you know, “An American bike.” What struck me was the word "Shameless" in bold, white letters on the top tube.

“Funny name for a bike model,”  I thought, and now, with something substantial to say, I turned back to Stacey.  “You may find this strange, but your bike has the same name as my favorite television show.”

“The bike is from your favorite television show,” she said. “Our friend works there – craft services,  and they gave these out to the crew at the end of filming this season. We borrowed it for the Rally.”

It’s what Mike Mayo and I used to call “Coincidence.” So, with a silent “There you go,” I went on with my day.

Later in the morning, I was standing with George Mager talking about something we both cared about when I saw Stacey walking towards us from afar. I forgot what I was saying mid-sentence. I tried to get it back for a few seconds, realized I was with a friend,  and just told the truth.

“God, it’s great to see a beautiful woman walking towards us. I forgot what I was saying.”

“Yeah,” said George, who hadn’t noticed Stacey coming, but even so couldn’t remember what I was saying either.

Stacey smiled at both of us at once, and she and I nodded recognition as she passed by on her way back home.

Brett. About noon, when Clem and I pulled out of line to go get propane, I saw Stacey’s husband standing alone beside their tent. I slowed, rolled down the window, and called out, “Hi Stacey’s Husband! My name is Mike!"

“I’m Brett,” he said.

“We’ll talk later,” I said, and did we ever!

Love, Mike

-------------------------