Thursday, July 24, 2014

Conversation With a Gentleman

I watched him walk across the parking lot toward the bench in front of the store where I sat, waiting for the bus.  It was obvious he was not from these parts.  His jeans were faded but clean and held up by a belt.  His cowboy hat had seen many miles of protecting him from the sun and rain.  His walked in his boots like he had been born to them.  As he got closer I could see that if he had not yet passed the 80 mile marker, he was close.  His face was as weathered as his hat, but many of the lines had been put there with smiles.

He stopped in front of me and said, "Excuse me, Ma'am.  I have some waiting to do.  Would it be alright if I sat here and waited with you?"  I said I would be honored.

He wasn't a jabberjaw type of man.  When he spoke in his soft drawl, he chose his words carefully.  We talked of many things.  We watched the people come and go.  We smiled at a naughty little boy staying just out of reach of his mother and at a little girl of about three years of age who obviously had just learned to dress herself, judging by the clashing colors and gaudy accessories.

He allowed as to how he liked the world better when a man's word meant something.  He said that he didn't understand why more people weren't interested in what was going on around them.  And more than that, why so many didn't bother to get ready for bad times.

He apologized for being nosy, but that he couldn't help noticing that my handy dandy little old lady shopping cart was filled to the brim with bags of rice, sacks of onions and jars of peanut butter.  On top was a sack full of canning lids.  He said those canning lids reminded him of his mother, working all summer and fall, putting up vegetables, meat and fruit to get her family through the winter.  He said that people now think that these big grocery stores will always be there, open and full of food.  He said he could see that I was thinking ahead and would probably be all right, but so many wouldn't.  He said it was a shame that the old ways were being forgotten, but was glad to see that some of us remembered.

I was sorry to see my bus pull into the parking lot.  I never learned that man's name nor does he know mine.  But I think I will be a long time remembering a conversation with a gentleman, sitting on a bench, on a beautiful summer morning.

12 comments:

  1. Go back to that bus stop and sit there til he shows up again!!

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  2. Nice to see you are out and about. We are going to be adding to our store supplies starting next week. I am going to be writing a list of things to get. I'm going forward with the thinking this coming winter is going to be just like this past one. Its always nice to meet folks and hear their options.

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  3. lotta joy...It was so nice to just sit and talk with someone who enjoyed old fashioned conversation. I think that's a rare gift these days.

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  4. Rob...It is nice to be out among the living again! I'm pretty much doing the same as you are. My supplies have dwindled and need re-stocking, so I'm spending the rest of summer and fall trying to accomplish that. I think you may be right about the winter, and I'm taking no chances.

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  5. Savor such moments and people. Good people and good conversations are growing increasingly more scarce.

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  6. Gorges...You are so right. Moments like that are to be cherished.

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  7. Always good to find someone "of our time" and by that I don't mean you're 80, rather a stranger with whom we share interests :)

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  8. Dani...I'm sneaking up on 70, so 80 isn't all that far off! :)
    It was so much fun to talk with someone who knew about party line telephones and clothing sewn from flour sacks and taking shoes to the shoemaker to have them re-soled. And all without having to stop and text someone!!

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  9. I remember my Grand parents dial telephone that had their number on the front and it start as PA(rkway)X-XXXX. They lived one block west of River Road and the Mississippi River. We could spend hours outside and not worry about some nut case trying to hurt you. We always rode our bikes in a group of at lest 4, sometimes more. No cell phone, no iPods, iPads, or even walkman's. We carried am radios for music.

    Sometimes I think life was way better back in the olden days of our youth.

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  10. Rob...I remember that system of phone numbers. When my family lived in country the number was WY(man) 5 - XXXX and in town was BE(lmont) 5 - XXXX. Like you, I roamed the neighborhood with friends without a thought of anything bad happening. Seems like now kids have to be watched constantly to keep them safe from harm. Sad, really.

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  11. I thought I posted a comment. I might have and it was consumed by bots....

    Your post reads like an essay; a snapshot in life and filled with imagery...I'd watch the short film, if it was a short film.

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  12. Jess...Thank you for the compliment. That means a lot to me, coming from you, a very talented writer.

    It was just one of those happenstance experiences. One that was enjoyable for the privilege of being in the company of that particular individual, even for a short period of time.

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