I Saw a Ghost Tonight

Tonight, on the eve of my 50th Birthday, I saw a ghost. He was hanging out at a coffeehouse/music cafe in Culver City. He was a bulky guy, about 5’10”, maybe 230-240 lbs. Red hair, a round and fleshy face, big lips - about 25 years old. He was there with a woman, maybe his girlfriend, maybe his wife - pretty, but not gorgeous, a little overweight - and perhaps 5-10 years older than he was. In his face, I saw a mirror of who I was - what I was - I saw myself.

Twenty-five years ago, in Boston, another bulky guy, 6’2”, maybe 230-240 lbs, with red hair, a round and fleshy face, and big lips was hanging out at a coffeehouse/music cafe. He was with a woman, his girlfriend, pretty but not gorgeous, a little overweight - and seven years older than he was.

I couldn’t take my eyes off this kid at the coffeehouse. I watched his every move. On this, the end of my 49th year - the official end of anything I could call my youth - I stood there, staring at the ghost of me a half-a-lifetime ago.

Tonight, a child is being born - one who will be a bulky guy, about 6’, maybe 230-240 lbs. Red hair, a round and fleshy face, big lips. He’ll be with a woman, pretty but not gorgeous, a little overweight, and about 5 years older than he is. Fifty years from now, in a coffee house somewhere, I will see him - the ghost of the first half of my life. He probably won’t notice me - I’ll be small, shriveled and bent over by then. But in his face, I will see a mirror of who I was - what I was - I will see myself.