finding enlightenment

When I purchased my new, sporty, red Honda CR-Z, I made arrangements to protect it with a clear coat bra, window tinting and to have an optional armrest installed. The dealer, Willey Honda, had the shuttle drop me off at Phillips Gallery while they completed the work and subsequently, pick me up. When I was picked up after they had completed their task, the shuttle driver and I had a conversation about the gallery. The driver asked about if I knew of John Erickson, a childhood friend of his, who happened to be a painter. "John Erickson is one of the premier artists represented at our gallery," I told him much to his surprise. The driver recounted incidents in the past like the time he dropped acid with John to go to his friend's opening. "Yup," he said. "John used to call me Little Buddha." "Why is that?" I asked as he was a thin, older white guy with a slightly scraggly beard. "Because I was always seeking enlightenment," he countered. "And did you find it?" I asked. "Yup, at Willey Honda," he replied.