I don’t know if you have noticed but us Boomer’s is getting really old.
Sort of crotchety old with tales of times gone by like Woodstock and Jimi
Hendrix and tie-dye and VW buses and yet we still done got to eat. Unless we
have lived on the land to follow our freedom and grow all our food (let us not
talk about the slaughter of animals) and brown rice is becoming boring over the
decades, we have choices to venture into the drive-thru fast food commercially
naturally polluted microwave prepared substance the media wants you to consume,
wrapped in paper or take the adventure to the ‘Tummy Temple’.
Every Tuesday has been the ‘ole folk’s day’ at my local establishment
even though the incentive of saving 5% for being old has gone away. The ole
folks are bused in and find the nearest bumper car to slowly wander the aisles choosing
only what is within reach. Those sweet family members will make time from their
busy days chores to patiently cheer their elderly ancestries hoping for a
bigger endowment at the funeral.
The pace of the traffic slows down on Tuesday. There are more confused
elderly wandering unsure paths looking for the restrooms and disturbing the
stackers with questions about their grandmother’s recipe for lasagna and
telling stories of their grandchildren’s antics.
Wednesday is just as bad for this is the time when those who couldn’t
make it on the prescribed ‘ole folk’s day’ drag themselves in to fill their
prescriptions and load their carts with diet colas and cakes and cookies to
enjoy in front of the television until the supplies run out and they must
return.
For those of us who can still manage our zippy-zoom carts around the
bumper cars and have the patience to wait until the decision between family
size and economy size is concluded, these are the times of the Boomer
Generation.
As we grow older and if our parents or relatives are still kicking, the
Tummy Temple is marked on the calendar as a meet-and greet-and-eat spot. Like
any medical establishment, the aisles are filled with walkers and rollers and
draggers and shifters and canes and crutches and slow moving traffic on the
‘Ole Folk’ days.
While many of us are joining the parade, I tend to go at the same time
every day. I miss the morning rush and try to squeeze in between the lunch
crowd and the bus delivery, but sometimes can’t avoid the future. Some days it
is good to go as the work crew lets out and the youngsters must interweave
between those with an expiration date and try to keep up with their hurried pace
of tapping on their screens while ignoring their surroundings.
I make this observation due to last Tuesday was especially congested.
Maybe there was a sale on Mucilage or the 2-for-one Kleenex sale was expiring,
but the aisles were packed.
Since time is no matter, many detours were made and paths retraced to
grab a pack of blueberries and a six-pack of ale. Not venturing out much I
wonder if other Temples are as crowded? What about the strip malls or the big
box stores? Has our generation taken over the tile floors with pushcarts below
the speed limit?
Watching this act of the play reminds me that we all are going through
these changes. When those who took care of us must be taken care of.
While going through the TSA of Temple Tummy, I was asked about the
ambulance that was there earlier. I do see the first responder’s park their
massive mobile watering and ladder machines and decide their ingredients for a
group dinner and those in the local medical campus at the produce section in
their scrubs, but had not seen an ambulance. So Katy tells me one of her customers
dropped and was hauled away.
Well the fact that that can happen to any of us at any time at anyplace
but then what? I think we all think the end will come in our own beds
surrounded by family but sometimes it just doesn’t happen that way.
So what happens at the Tummy Temple when one of the ole folk decide to
check out without paying their bill? If over by the frozen food section, the
blue shirts might just put you in the freezer to keep you fresh until the wagon
arrives. If you happen to be unfortunate to fall by the guy with the bloody
apron you could wind up drawn and quartered wrapped in saran wrap and put on
ice for the daily special. Over by the bakery you could wind up as a Hansel and
Gretel muffin but most likely they will just drag you out to the back swinging
doors and put you on a pallet for return. No one wants to step over your body
when selecting pasta or baked beans.
Yet, the whole idea of someone under duress at a place of business, what
is the procedure? I know all the rules and regulations of not discriminating
anyone due to frailties or disabilities and reasonable adjustments are made to
accommodate, but other than obvious wheel chair or crutches, there is nothing
spoken of ‘what would happen if…’ Some CPR classes were given by the Red Cross
to any volunteers, then defibrillator machines started appearing and certain
people where trained. A company has fire drills now, just like elementary
school. What legal responsibility does a workplace have to play doctor? Call
911 and don’t touch the body?
What about a shooting?
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