Remember The Asparagus

Last night I met Dale. He's an older man, retired, with horn rimmed glasses and a very healthy appetite for life. He was in town to cheer on a friend in a three day fishing competition where he hoped his friend would make it to day three. Don't worry though, because if he didn't he was going to visit the longest zipline in the US which, according to him, was somewhere between NY and Boston (I looked it up - it's at Hunter Mountain, in case you want to go). Toward the end of the night, as we talked over the empty chairs beside us at the bar, he told me a story that I hope I never forget.

Dale grew up not liking Asparagus. Several people in his life prepared it for him, and it never quite hit the spot. For years he would take one or two spears out of politeness, but never went back for seconds. Then one day, one of his extended family brought some of their Asparagus to the gathering. According to Dale, it was like eating a different vegetable. He thought for sure he hated it, and then one day his entire perspective changed.

We laughed as he said that he still does not know what that one family member did to make it taste so good, and there are often times when he will try it at restaurants and it will be hit or miss, but the thing he learned, he told me, was to try. He said he always wanted to try something new and different and taste as much of life as he possibly could.

What's interesting is that earlier that day I had a conversation about being more adventurous and getting the most out of life. I can't help but wonder if I was supposed to meet Dale that night. Whether it was destined or coincidence, I hope I always remember the Asparagus. I don't want to just try new things, I want to keep trying again and again. After all, I never know when I'll get the good Asparagus.