I admire a good beard

Monday P. took me to Fairmont resort to a conference for her job. I was forced by my inertia to nap and read for an entire day on a couch upstairs from the lobby. On my way back to the couch after I refilled my coffee I met a man in the hallway with a long gray beard. Oh, maybe 8 or 9 inches from the chin, so I said to him, “Nice beard!” I got the inevitable response, “So is yours!” Then, “Thanks!” and “Getting good!”
Whatever, I thought. In spite of that, I enjoy expressing admiration for large beards.
Turns out this bearded fellow was a presenter at P.’s conference. He was introduced as a marshal from the Department of Justice, who, according to P., had about a $ half-million worth of illicit drugs in his briefcase. Meth, weed, that sort of thing. He used the drugs for show and tell at the conference of, mostly, social workers. P. said she left the conference just before a bunch were headed outdoors to light up some marijuana. Just for demo purposes, she said.
I had been re-reading “Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction” by Sue Townsend. Whenever life gives me any sadness or worry I like to read any of David Sedaris’ newer books. If I can’t find one, I reach for Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., or Sue Townsend. One of these comfort reads always gets me by.