He used to say that he was born where people go to die. “Which in hindsight seems a bit strange considering all the times I thought I was actually going to die. And none of those times were in Florida.”

This KNOWvember has been a good one on many levels. The people I have met and the stories (and confessions) I have heard would most certainly make numerous great scenes in a really surreal movie. If only I had recorded them. But here’s the thing, I never took notes while I was talking to the person, instead I listened. In doing so, I discovered something about myself. I’m actually interested in what people have to say.

Today is the last day of this social experiment, blood-pressure rising challenge that last year I swore I’d never do again. This is day 30. And it’s raining. And we have to drive home. And traffic was worse than we anticipated. And then it snowed! Yes, it snowed. And then we finally got home, and I got a call from someone in dire need of pastoral care. And then...well.

The shear silence of this beautiful machine was enough to want me to meet whoever this person was behind the helmet. And when I saw it to be a short, much older woman I couldn’t help myself but to stop what I was doing to ask her some questions. She agreed to answer three.

Question #1: Do people often freak out because they can’t hear you coming? I felt like I wasted a valuable question because already assumed the answer. “All the time. But I’m pretty aggressive with the horn.” I knew that because that’s what you have to do in the city. It doesn’t matter what you drive, you have to always be ready to honk in San Francisco, where Beth has lived for over 40 years.

It was cold on the corner down the street from where my wife grew up. That’s typical of the neighborhood, as well as San Francisco itself. This is where Mark Twain famously said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco.” Beth wasn’t bundled up so much, but she didn’t want to stick around for my weird social experiment. But she obliged me for two more questions.

Question #2 What got you to this particular electric motorcycle? “I always had a scooter so when I saw this bike I knew I had to have it.” And I could understand why. The Zero-s is a beautifully sculpted piece of machinery. “It’s what street riding is meant to be,” boast the website. “It’s pure stealth.” But here’s the thing, while I didn’t hear Beth pull up...all eyes were on her bike. So I’m not so sure stealth is the right description.

Beth told me, “I want to help the environment, but really I just hate traffic.” It was the latter which led her to abandoned her car nearly 20 years ago. She’s all about “splitting lanes.” For those who don’t know or don’t have this law in their state, it’s legal in California to drive between the lanes of traffic. “It’s dangerous, but it shaves off a heck of a lot of time in your commute.”

It’s not your typical motorcycle. But then again, Beth was not your typical “biker chick” either. Bright, clear blue eyes that popped against her pure white hair. And a smile that was equally as bright as it was white. From her small frame came a powerful voice that made up for both her and the machine which I learned from the site, “strips away the noise, fumes, and vibration.” The wind began to pick up and both our noises were already going from pink to red.

Question #3 Where would you take this if you could go anywhere? “I hate the highway. I’m 63, and I can’t go the distance anymore. Anyway, have a Happy Thanksgiving and good luck with your experiment.” I suspect she could have gone the distance with this interview. But it was cold, and the night before Thanksgiving. The line in the supermarket was 20 people deep. ​

Beth is my 27th person I have intentionally met this month. While most of these meetings have been long, wonderful conversations, they don’t always have to be. Not every person you meet will be a surprise hit, like “Beth” was for Kiss. But each one has the potential to make someone’s day. As cold as it was outside, Beth warmed my heart and got me thinking maybe I’m not to old to ride a motorcycle. My wife, mom, and kids might have a different opinion however.

But it’s KNOWvember, and there had to be someone worth meeting. There was Aarika Wells, the docent, historian, and artist in residence. Gladys an artistic cow who is the town greeter. And some dude who is the glass blower and whose name I forgot to write down. But that’s okay.

​At the end of the day, it really was the town that was worth meeting!

​Harmony was founded in 1869 around several dairy ranches and the creamery. The operation changed hands repeatedly because of rivalries that led to a killing. In 1907, owners and rancher agreed to call off their feud and call the town by his present name as a symbol of their truce. all agreed to live in harmony and from this name the town was derived.

In it’s hay day the village boasted a large residence for management bunk houses for employees of the Harmony Valley Co., a general store, a livery and stable, a blacksmith and feed store, a post office and a school house. Eventually the dairy business shifted a little further south to San Luis Obispo and in the late 1950’s, Harmony Dairy closed down.

For many years the town was abandoned, with the exception of the post office. And in 1972, restoration began to bring back the beauty and vitality of the Harmony of years past. Today it’s more of an arts colony, and a winery up the hill. There are tons of spots to take pictures for Facebook and Instagram. Including a beautiful chapel and gladys’ cow friends who make up 4 of 101 cows created by local artist for the San Luis Obispo Cow Parade of 2016.

Hospitality was not his first job. He’s been a mortician. He ran the crematorium for a while. And after his first marriage bit the dust, Dan took a job watching a parking lot. “I didn’t have to do anything. Zero. Just be there. It gave me time to read a lot of books. (Judging by the numerous times Dan ran out to get a book from his car to show me I reckon he likes to read).

It was while nursing his wounds from his first marriage that Dan began “to experiment with new age thinking.” Which was interesting to me because he told me he had been baptized twice already. A story all of its own.

But it makes sense he’d go down that route. He liked trying things and learning new things a seeing how it’s all connected. His life began a bit disconnected with a mom in Long Island, NY and a dad he never met who lived in Santa Barbara. Mom was a Christian (who he saved and now she’s a super Christian...part of the other story). Dad was a swami, as Dan would come to discover after getting kicked out of his house for causing a riot in his high school (once again a whole other story). “It’s no wonder I like religion. I got both eastern and western religions in me.”

But there is so much more to this man who just turned 60 on my sister in law’s birthday. He also dabbles in video production, and had a YouTube channel with hundreds of videos he’s made over the last six years. “While working the parking lot I met a man who had a show on Public Access. He invited me to see his set. When I saw take a blank room and turn it into a show I just had to learn that.”

This is Dan’s creative side. He enjoys taking footage off the internet and recutting with music. He has also shot his own footage for a local show he did here, “like postcards from Santa Barbara.”

In this weird little space Dan has found his niche, a canvas where he can create. And the world is watching. Some of his videos have 200 views and other 2 million views. “They won’t watch public access in Santa Barbara, but they watch my stuff about it.”

Something about strangers getting to know someone from their work that they post online that fascinates me. I wonder why? However I am glad I got to know Dan. He is the man!