Day in LA

This afternoon I went to a workshop that the Iyengar Institute in L.A., where my teacher Denise was teaching a Members' Class of the Iyengar Society. She was clearly nervous and excited, playing the big time in this way, and behaved in a way that was far more self-conscious than her usual. But slowly, she settled in, and soon we were immersed in a fascinating workshop designed to make us see the poses we had taken for granted, done every day in the same way, making the same errors every time. By morphing one pose into another, she made us see the ordinary anew. It was a lesson one could apply in any sphere, and one well taken and valuable.
The fellow I rode up with was a quiet, smiling fellow, who frequently haunts the yoga classes I attend. He is probably a few years older than I am, but seldom speaks. I knew nothing about him. Riding in the car up to L.A., I began to question him about his life, his job, his family, and learned that he is has lost his wife of 40 years, who was about 13 years older than he. His step-children are men only about 6 and 8 years younger than himself.
He took me to dinner at his favorite joint at a part of town I didn't know existed. The place is one of those monuments of Googie architecture that has been there for 50 years. It is called Dinah. They serve breakfast all day. I had chicken and waffles, a combination I had heard of, but never had the opportunity to try. Though this is not something I will ever eat again, most likely, it was delicious. Those were the best waffles I have ever had; ditto the chicken.