Just Lookin’
I had to pay a routine visit to a doctor this morning. A lonely, tattered copy of People was the only magazine on the waiting room tables. It looked lonely, still I didn’t disturb it. I just pulled out my phone, found the Tulsa World app, and scrolled to the sports page. I wasn’t the only one reading their phone.
I stopped. It made me think. Preferences change. Preferences. I prefer a newspaper. A paper placed on my front porch each morning. I like the feel of the paper, the smell of the newsprint. I even like reading the sports through a coffee stain. So, Billie and I have the Tulsa World delivered each morning.
Things change. I have accepted that for more years than I choose to discuss. There is a difference in accepting change and embracing it. Shopping. I would prefer to buy my kids bicycles at Western Auto. You know, from Ray and Cherry Farmer in Sallisaw. I liked buying a refrigeration from Paul James’ Oklahoma Tire and Supply in Stigler.
To this day, I cherish the encounters I had in Hays and Buchanan. I don’t know that I ever had a comparable education to what I learned during my 7th-12th grade years working there. Those were unique experiences that I wish I could have provided for my children and grandchildren.
But along came the “marts” – KMart and Walmart. I recently heard KMart has left us. Another Amazon victim? Did it trace its roots back to Kress 5 and dime? I guess I could Google it.
Going grocery shopping with my mother at Shelton’s Supermarket was a social experience as well as a shopping expedition. Mother knew most people she encountered. Information was exchanged. “How are your kids?” “I heard about some goings on out about Hoyt.” “Sorry to hear about your brother-in-law.”
What is it about the past that is so comforting?
I nestled down into my Adirondack chair and watched the fizz rise from the ice as my coke spilled over it. There aren’t many October afternoons left that will be this warm, so I’ll enjoy it.
I hear my neighbor’s dog. I see a rabbit dash full speed through a small hole in our aging wire fence. I thought of the interview of a migrant woman I recently heard about. As I recall it, she said, “I’ve walked through jungles, over mountains and in swamps. I’ve seen friends robbed and murdered, I’ve been beaten and raped. I’ve seen my daughter raped. And you believe a river and a fence are going to stop me now.”
Not everyone’s past is comforting.
Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them. – Bob Dylan
