Sunday, August 9, 2009

Little Things

It was a funny emotion. After my morning ride and cooling down, I went to my desk with my silver bullets and reached for my can holder.

It wasn’t in the same spot.

I panicked.

Where could it have gone?

My ration asked it is not a big thing. A little green Coleman rubber sculptured cup that holds a can.

But this was MY can holder, part of my daily life. It is dirty and moldy, but like a glove on my hand, it fits. It sits on a green rubber coaster next to my computer and within a familiar reach.

I went back to last night and tried to remember where I would have put it. I remembered going to the front porch with it waiting for Maggie to transport me to B.A.R.F. I remembered putting in on the bottom of the table so passing neighbors would not see beer cans on the porch.

Then my thoughts shifted to the gathering attended by so many unfamiliar faces and fewer names. Doing the pleasantries of talking to the host and his wife and his children, I sat among strangers and joined conversations on government, high school friends, New Orleans, playing guitar (which I did not bring this time), and last years t-shirts. People came and went on the deck as I tapped the plastic cup to the hard rock played softly through the speakers.

And just before I left I thought what this conversation with a park ranger meant. Some nice girl decided to listen to an old geezer’s stories and seem genuinely interested. I’m sure I gave her enough to have a good laugh. Then I thought of what I had said to this perfect stranger. It is a stranger story every time I think about it.

But back to the little green can holder.

I retraced my steps back into the house and looked in every nook and cranny for this part of my being. It had disappeared.

That is impossible. A little green rubber can holder does not disappear. So I continued looking for anything on an uncluttered surface, but it did not jump up and say, “You looking for me?”

It was driving me crazy. The lost didn’t stop me from starting my ritual of drinking the Colorado water, but it didn’t feel right.

It was a similar feeling of losing your glasses. I have ritual of placing my keys, wallet, and glasses in the same spot every night. No matter what, they will be there in the morning. It is the start of the day to bring these things close to me so I am complete.

And this stupid little green can holder was very much the same. The feeling was missing a part of the daily routine.


It had slipped off the shelf where it rests at night and fallen into the shadows.

Back into it treasured placed with evaporating water filling it’s base, the little green can holder sits proudly in the normal position within quick reach and filling the void that was shacking my Sunday.

All is right again.

1 comment:

Art said...

Funny, the things that matter.