Singular

I have a friend, petite and southern, and if you were to meet her and asks, "How are you?" she might say, "Oh, I'm fine. I'm neurotic and anxious and a flat out hypochondriac, but I'm fine. Nice to meet you." It isn't a schtick, she's just quite open about who she is and as she puts it, "People are going to know sooner or later."

Bettye June is a bit eccentric, in my sense of the word; meaning a little outside the norm, no harm done, often whimsical. Walking buddies, she and I chat about the small occurrences of the day, but, no matter how mundane the conversation, I can count on her to say something enough out of the ordinary that it will stop me in my tracks and leave me laughing on the sidewalk. I find it interesting and fun to view the world from her perspective. The same is true of another friend, more buttoned up than Bettye June, but surprisingly original. A fine doctor, he had, among other oddities, the habit of watching the weather channel with the attention I would give to a movie, and by "watch" I mean for hours. He saw nothing unusual about wanting to know, in real time, the temperature in every city on the planet.

These friends have pockets of eccentricity. Margaret, on the other hand, is a full-blown eccentric. Visiting the village in Ireland where my folks come from, I often see a woman walking with a quick, purposeful pace, sometimes several times a day in different locations. Curious, I learned that she is called, "Margaret Who Walks the Roads." Everyone knows her and, if the weather turns rainy or if Margaret gets tired and sits by the side of the road, someone will stop and give her a lift back to her cottage. Cared for rather than shunned, valued rather than ridiculed, Margaret is part of a community that accepts eccentricity. If you ask her why she spends her days as she does, she will tell you, "I like to walk."

A lot of us have small eccentricities and they remind us that we are not just like everyone else. I like that. So much of the time, we feel compelled to conform and we demand the same from others. I find that I am more tolerant, far less annoyed and often amused when I view people through a Dickensian eye. Try viewing the current crop of politicians this way and fall on the floor laughing.

I'll keep my own eccentricities to myself, only saying that as a child my mother called me a flibbertigibbet. If you are not familiar with the word, think flighty and silly ... which, as an adult, can come out in eccentric bits. I'm OK with that. I've come to value Flib. She's the one who has fun.