I am sitting in a coffee shop listening to the locals communicate.  I’m a local, but not like them.  I observe and listen.  I am listening to an older guy conservatively bragging on himself to a young impressionable college student.  Sharing his philosophical religious views in a passive aggressive way, that I am not sure he is even aware of, but he is impressing his ‘view’ upon her-asking her questions yet answering them himself. She was questioned about her definition of ‘missions’ and I could hear her intimidated voice try to justify her answer yet gauging if she was saying the right thing.  Let the poor girl start where she is. But continually the subject returns to ‘him’.  They just went from God to pizza?  Maybe if his mother would’ve loved him more?  It is very interesting.  I wonder if this is how Jane Goodall felt?