Kermit

 

Yesterday was the normal routine. Up at 7AM, coffee, back to nap until 9AM. Turn on the phone, strap on shoes and turn off all the electronics that have been running all night. Lock the door and head into the woods. Make an inventory of the cupboard and climb upon my trusted pony. Big machinery lines the road where my taxes are being spent on something that needs to be fixed or something new.

The journey was uneventful and as I lock up my parking spot I notice a guy who sweeps up the trash in the parking lot. He speaks to a couple of the congregation and continues to his duty.

I comment to him he has a wonderful disposition and attitude.

I must have a face that says, “Tell me your life story” because he began. He told me of his four sons, two in the police and two in jail. He told me of his three daughters and his fourteen grandchildren. He told me about the autumn season and how he hunts and fish. He told me about his God.

I just wanted to say I appreciate people who have a positive spin on life. His task was not one to be strived for but he was pleasant doing his job.

He asked my name and introduced himself. “I’m Kermit, like the frog”.

I put on my mask and entered the Tummy Temple after a cheerful interaction with another human being. I found a zip cart so things were looking up. I entered the electronic sliding doors and was immediately brought back to reality.

The grumbling women at the deli in their hairnets who look like they are getting plenty of samples of their terrible fried chicken moving in slow motion. Little Kandi sadly pushing a broom, stirring up the dust of the hundreds who wander these aisles. The guy who everyday is situated in the same spot crossing back and forth across the aisle empty boxes and filling shelves with yogurt. The woman who is in no hurry to be friendly looking as if she just got bad news. The little mousy guy looking for a place to hide, never acknowledging any questions or expecting kudos. Pat, using a cart for a walker, marking up prices and complaining. Everyone is here everyday, as I am, and they all look gloom.

The only salvation is the checkout ladies. Katy (who calls me Bunny Man) is usually bubbly. Keith is an overachiever in chatter, but Angela just grunts. Hillary is hiking back and forth with a silly laugh but I’m not sure she is all there.

The latest new face has red hair, long nails and wears a glitter mask that says LOVE. She calls me “Young Man” (because I told her while she is giving me a code to tell technology that I’m as old as I appear on the movie screen and just look 17) and I call her LOVE. We’ll have brief sentence and finish with wishes of having a great day.

The Tummy Temple is just a sample of the world. Different faces push (or pull) their wired carriages searching for substances to keep the children quiet and snack on while binging television. Some are in a rush. Some are taking their time. Very few look as if they are enjoying the adventure in the canyons of grub.

It was nice to meet Kermit. Hope I can see his good vibe continue.