So yeah, life is crazy. I get that. Bouncing along from one thorny situation to another troublesome kettle of fish. Trying not to worry so much and to live in more abandonment and trust. Yet still, seeing that deep down there continues to be lurking worries. What about retirement? Will it ever actually be possible to live without working? Without at least having to be a KMart greeter? What about health care costs and insurance? Vehicle costs to keep mobile? On and endlessly on it can go. Now don't get me wrong here...I'm not just settling for letting life's little details just have there way with me. I fight against it, I resist. I look to faith in God and daily set my self to trusting in him and him alone . But still, the categories of potential anxiety sources seem never far off. They never seem to quite totally Shut Down. More times than not, they seem at best to go into Sleep mode
But that's not what I want to write about.... No, along this journey of life I sometimes notice things that pass by, very subtly, almost subliminally. The speed of my treadmill doesn't really allow for significant pondering of these fleeting observations. It reminds me of when I run with the "it takes a village" dog. She has her nose to the street, noticing every little piece of flotsam and jetsam passing by, so curious, so intent on not missing a thing. Nothing casual in her gazing...she's as serious as a heart attack. Sometimes she wants to stop and do some further investigating but alas, for her, the tyranny of my dedication to completing the run prevents her from doing what she would do if on her own. Today's blog is meant to double back and at least acknowledge some of those things that pass under my nose as I run along the Skinnerian maze of life, hoping, I guess, to find the ultimate little biscuit in hopes it just might drop into my little cup.
- Caribou coffee shops: What a concept this place is for me. On one hand, it can simply be a place to run into and get an expensive cup of coffee. (Speaking of price, I must say that I get all kinds of pleasure seeing places like McDonald's, Dunkin Doughnuts and even my local Freedom convenience store find a way to put out a decent cup of coffee for around a buck.) Nonetheless, Caribou is what we're talking about here bub...stay on topic. So when they designed these places, did some architect or marketing guru think "Heh, I know. Let's make it really loud in our stores. Full of lots of clunking and clanking and hissing. And let's have the person who calls out to let you know when your drinks are ready be as loud as a Lake Superior foghorn. "Double frappe mocha decaf, extra foam, moosed, " Judges award 9.8 for decibels and the Richter scales are at least slightly tipped. Sheeesh, trying to sit inside one of these by yourself, seeking to be reflective or to just quiet the mind, is a real exercise in entering into an almost zen-like sound filtration mode, mentally holding the cacophony at bay. Maybe they really don't want people just hanging out at their shops. Like McDonald's, with their intentionally designed uncomfortable seating. Lingerers need not apply. But no, that doesn't make sense, they actually have big stuffed one-person chairs as if they are actually inviting you to stay and practice your zen for the day. Oh well, it all works much better when with a group of people and have your group's conversation to focus on. Still love their French roast with 1 ice cube to tone down their efforts to mimic the same temps as the surface of the sun. No judgements, bless you Caribou.
- Why do I like the things that I do? Like flashlights. It's not that I own that many but nust say that I sure do love them. All sizes, with swivel heads, l.e.d.s, high tech looking, little baby ones, headlights to the ones cops carry that double as a weapon. And jackets, I could never have too many. Want one for every iteration of weather. And who knew it, I love colored glass. Don't collect it but love to look at little, brightly colored glass figures and artsy pieces like the ones that show up at Uptown art fair. And sounds...I'm mesmerized by wind chimes. Wouldn't mind one hanging on all 40 trees in the backyard. All sizes from the high-pitched triangle sounding ones to the 5' long tubes that send out sounds that submarines can hear one mile deep. And glass exhaust pipes on trucks....that low, rumbling sound that makes even a cruddy looking truck sound like the very depth of power. I marvel at what I like...it seems so random and not connected to anything else. Kind of frivolous stuff but vaguely interesting to me as I wonder where it all comes from.
- And then there is the wearing of one's favorite team jersey. It seems cute to me when I see a little girl or guy wearing a purple #4 Favre jersey. But on a dumpy looking 50-some year old, complete with an expression that seems to scream out, "I support this team with my last breath and it's just a burden I bear for the team." Every fiber of me wants to shout out "As if!" As if your wearing of that jersey is doing anything beyond merely making you look pathetic. I'm sorry. I am to be judged for my judgement but it has to be said. There is a time and a place for this...like at the Metrodome on game day perhaps. But in Walmart on a Tuesday afternoon? The concept just plain ol' misses me. It's my blog and I get to say such things that by being said actually rival the stupidity of what I am observing in others. OK, I'll call this one a draw.
Maybe three is enough for now. I have more and I will return another day when it seems like it would be fun to give er' another go. But for now, there is a Super Bowl that our team was supposed to be in but instead CHOKED. Maybe if I, in my 6th decade would have worn a Vikings jersey to Target on a Thursday morning I could have tipped the scales of the NFL gods....we'll never actually know now will we? Santiago out!
