The Zen of David Puddy
I'm often reminded of the classic "Seinfeld" episode where Elaine and her boyfriend David Puddy were on a long flight to Europe. Elaine nervously fiddles through magazine after magazine, book after book, whiling away the hours, while David simply sits and stares at the back of the airplane seat in front of him with a gentle Mona Lisa smile on his face.
Exasperated, she finally turns to him and says sarcastically: "David, aren't you going to read, or something? Are you going to just sit there staring at the back of that airplane seat during the entire flight?"
David turns to her and calmly says: "Yeah. That's right."
Elaine, at her breaking point, slams down the magazine and hisses: "That's it! We're DONE. We're breaking up!"
If you don't watch "Seinfeld" -- well, first of all, if you've never seen "Seinfeld," immediately turn off the computer and go plop down in front of the nearest TV, turn on any channel, wait long enough and a rerun will soon appear. Trust me: your life will never be the same.
Anyway, I digress. Let me tell you a little bit about David Puddy.
He is an extremely handsome auto mechanic. He speaks in monosyllables and is a man of few words.
But David Puddy is NOT dumb. On the contrary, he seems to have a certain Zen wisdom which he carries around in that big lug of a body of his. He seems to have the answers to all questions, yet he doesn't waste much breath speaking about them.
He seems to inherently know that this wisdom is far beyond the ability of Elaine, Jerry and George to be able to comprehend (Kramer, on the other hand, I assume completely "Get's it."), so like any sage, he merely smiles compassionately at the flailing Elaine, and returns his sites to the back of the airplane seat in front of him.
He's like the Chief Seattle of the Upper West Side.
I can't tell you how many hours Chris and I have spent aboard "Espiritu" sitting in the cockpit at anchor with me glued to a book, and he, staring off at the horizon with that same damn David Puddy wise sage expression on his equally handsome mug.
And I, Elaine-like, will ask a bit impatiently: "So, what are you thinking about?"
"Nothing..." He will gently say, without taking his eyes off of that horizon or those clouds.
I understand Elaine's exasperation. For a long time what bothered me about his staring off at the horizon while I tried to read my book is I felt that he was sending me a subliminal message that he was bored and he wanted me to stop reading and DO something with him.
But I've slowly learned that, believe it or not, he really is quite content that way, sitting, staring...
Men swear to us ladies that when they sit staring off at the horizon for hours on end, they really are simply thinking about "nothing."
Hmmmm. Is this true? Can this really be true?
Well, the mystery continues, because David Puddy -- and my husband -- are not talking...