Regular readers know, in my next life, I would like to be either Pat Bruno, the food critic for the Sun-Times, or Tom Skilling, the weather guy for the Evil Empire.
Today was one of those days where I realized I am not alone in my eclectic views of what is important in life.
I suspected there might be ice jams after the Blizzard of 2011 melted, so I drove my wife to work and did some scouting along the Iroquois and Kankakee rivers.
We found an ice jam on the lower end of the Iroquois. I figured it would be there when I picked her up later in the day, so I didn't bother stopping.
I didn't find any on the Kankakee, but I didn't search too big of an area.
So in the afternoon, I came back armed with my camera, and the Iroquois was wide open at the bend where an ice jam had been earlier in the day.
But the water was up two or three feet, so I figured the ice jam must have moved. So I kept driving on a gravel road and found it.
And I was not alone.
There was a guy about 30 or 35 taking pictures. We talked briefly, then moved on.
None of us are an island anywhere near as much as most of us want to think or dream.
That point was reinforced when I brought my wife home by a roundabout way and showed her the ice jam.
This time, there was an older guy, maybe 75, maybe even older than that, looking too. We shared looking at it, nodded and moved on.
We are all unique, but never as unique as we would like to think.