It's the Small Stuff

You can't always estimate the power of dedicating two minutes of your day to give another person the reassurance that someone cares.

Talking with Rams yesterday, I heard that many of the professionals who go to his gym have lost their jobs. They come in at the same time--what used to be after work--to use the machines and feel the normalizing effect of the old schedule, sweat and physical activity. They're little more than strangers to him, but he makes a conscious effort to stay a bit longer and chat with them to keep building that human connection.

It's pretty demoralizing to have lost your job, after years of hard work and experience, without the ability to scoop up another one. If you have a family, double that feeling of loss and fear.

That deliberate act of reaching out in conversation is comforting, don't you think? It's good to have the awareness that angels of simple kindness are walking amongst us.

Inappropriate Kiosk Behavior

Have you ever been assaulted by someone in a shopping mall kiosk trying to sell you cream, cheap jewelry, cell phones, newspaper subscriptions, Dead Sea something, etc.?

I found a recent tactic displayed by a hair care product company very invasive...if you can even call it a tactic. Walking along, minding my own business (and trying desperately to appear interested in something far, far away), I was aggressively approached by a non-smiling woman who said in a very forceful tone, "What HAIR CARE products do you use?"

It was a little personal for me. And very annoying. In retrospect, here are the top 5 answers I wish I had on the tip of my tongue:

• Rid Lice/ Rid Flea
• I'll trade you an answer for the assurance you won't say anything else to me, including "but--"
• What kinds of FEMININE products do you use?
• Look. What do you want from me? I'm just going to lay it out for you. "No."
• I have a raging case of herpes. Is that okay?

What do you do in these situations? In a way, I feel bad for them. Business sucks everywhere. But I just don't like this kind of approach.

Random College Memory

What sparked this note of remembrance in my brain? No idea. But I was just thinking of my Economics professor. The room held around 150 people and was the sort of lecture class where you expected to go in, listen to the prof and be sort of anonymous. No chance of the old geezer recognizing you, even if he had the roster in hand.

We were all curious when he made us hold up a sign with our name on it and get our picture taken the second week of class. The third week of class, things were cleared up for us when he started calling on people to answer bizarre questions. Several tried to pretend they weren't present, but that's when he pulled out the good 'ole photographic memory trick.

"Sexton, I know you're here. I'm looking right at you. And don't even try to look at Susie for the answer."

Smart guy. But what a freak. Now why did this pop in out of nowhere from the recesses of 12 years ago?

The IKEA shopping cart killer

Yesterday I arrived on site at IKEA at 12:31 p.m. and did the following...

• walked throughout the labyrinth of high quality, low price furniture and furnishings gawking at the spectacle of it all (along with 3.8 million others);
• ate a meat free lunch of vegetable medley and mac and cheese, located in the line between heaps of Swedish meatballs and egg/ shrimp sandwiches; and
• continued the window shopping marathon downstairs with an even paced diligence

...all so I could time my shopping cart collision with a certain lady at precisely 2:16 p.m. Well, obviously. That was the unbelievable look of sheer hatred bestowed upon me by this chick as I accidentally tapped her ankles with the back of my cart. My sincere apology didn't seem to sway her too much from her original assessment of my evil plot to kill her. Jeeez. It's a jungle in there, sweetheart. Next time I'll be a little more calculating.

Charlotte

Crowders Mountain, 30 mins outside of Charlotte and 3 hours before the plane departed...yikes.

With every trip back to NC, the decision is made: I'm moving back. And so with this trip. Don't worry (or do?), I'm totally not going anywhere. It's all talk...at least until the housing market here allows us to have a greater than 2% chance of selling.

There was no way on God's green earth we were going to make the trip from Charlotte to South Mountains on Friday. A sick child and rain like the rapture were our impediments. But everything was just fine; it just doesn't matter what you're doing when you're with the right company. Right?

We took a "Tour de Childhood Gropius" down the two streets holding addresses of my houses from 1 year to 16 years, and we visited the landmarks that most Charlotteans consider trite and certainly nothing much to speak of. It was comforting to get the confirmation that my random and scattered dreams containing images of those childhood places were pretty much accurate. Even the sign at Park Road Shopping Center hadn't been changed in 30 years. Good move. Now it's retro.

A tiny dogwood tree my mother planted 27 or so years ago is now a gorgeous specimen, producing shade enough for a large family's picnic. How cool.

My patient tour guide: a great Sarasota friend who ended up in Charlotte with a young sweet family. Isn't it strange to see your high school friends as parents? In Little Olive, I saw a younger version of the 33 year old creative I love and adore. She's a great mother. We had a blast. So grateful for the few in life you can always count on to share your joy, sorrows, laughs, memories and outright craziness. I haven't felt so refreshed in a while.

I love not camping

Uncommon Blonde, this made me think of you.

I, on the other hand, do enjoy camping, and I thank you for the opportunity! We're excited for an outdoor adventure with the alligators and elements. We appreciate you thinking of us with the camping/canoeing certificate. Promise to take photos.

Carolina On My Mind

You don't always appreciate the beauty in common places that surrounded you during the wonder years. And even the parts that were only part of a normal day come back to haunt you with a little sadness and nostalgia, just because that's the world you were first exposed to, and it's part of you. Like 24 hour a day Southern accents, brick houses and driveways that didn't end 6 inches from the street.

Charlotte, NC is a pretty town with all of its magnificent tree lined streets. The quiet place in your mind reserved for your finest inner photo album wakes up as you drive down Queens Road, with the canopies of oaks stretching across it forming an ancient tent of the ages.

Instead of envisioning what the land might have looked like before a developer bulldozed through, the streets, the houses, dogwood trees and azaleas actually fit together and you can't imagine the suburban or downtown landscape any other way.

It's ironic that a wild child, brilliant writer, Slupee Queen, and adventure-lover I met in Sarasota when I moved from Charlotte some 17 years ago now lives in Charlotte with her husband and little girl. I'm looking forward to hanging out with them this week and driving around the town, up to South Mountains State Park for one hell of a hike, and relaxing in some childhood memories. Served up on Thursday morning, with a Delta flight out of our local "international" airport.

Where did you grow up?