I awoke today in rather good form.
with Haley Anne off to Sandestin for a week with one of her “other families”, Joanne and Emma Jo had indulged themselves with a in-family sleepover. this had me in the guest room with Rowdy happy at my feet.
I had a double cardio work-out. sleep, as always, had come easy and quickly for me, with dreams aplenty and vibrant. refreshed I began to focus on the day ahead my usual optimism had me thinking like Captain America.
today, you were supposed to be reading a different post, and certainly a different kind of posting. it’s called water Rescue! you will see that. but, after my morning, and what it portends, I’ve decided to stave that effort off for tomorrow.
there is perspective afoot, here.
with other events crowding my mind and teeming imagination (possibilities and opportunities abound) I entered “my SBUX” (Starbucks) off Bethany Road in Milton. there, things took a rather abrupt and uncomfortable turn with familiar, but unexpected cues.
“Homeless Guy” was in the corner nursing a coffee. he looks normal, just wary. but, he is a reminder that something is not quite right in our overly comfortable “horse country” community that seems so unfazed by economic turmoil.
I don’t know his story; why he is homeless?
we made eye contact, and I was faced with the fact that I did not like what I (thought or felt) I saw behind his gaze. I thought of a Dawn of the Dead movie. zombie movies and soft drinks are typically referred to as “dawn of the dead movies” and “cokes”, right?
I don’t know her name, and now that bothers me as well. but, “Ditzy” was manning the register. the routine is always the same. she asks the same question (one or two, today?”), yet seemingly ever taken by surprise by the answer (“always two”) 1/. she can be counted on to call me “Daniel”, and I (and, the Barista) long ago stopped trying to correct her.
but, why should she know my name when I don’t know hers?
that simple realization began to gnaw at me as well as she fumbled with the clear vente cups only to be waved-off by a teammate that had already begun to build my beverages when I breached the doorway.
no sooner had I settled into my Tundra for the quick ride to the offices when the announcer on WSB 95.5 (what is his name?) grimly advised me that another unnamed woman from Johns Creek had died of kidney cancer. and, as she slid into darkness her neighbors, and strangers (evidently everyone was a stranger) rifled through her belongings because they had been cast to the curbside by a relentless landlord bent on her eviction.
did she pass from light to dark, alone?
so… I’m sure God will, eventually, make it a bit more clear to me why I’m so sensitive to my community today. maybe I need to be more grateful for the incredible blessings that abound in my life. I’ve done some cool things in my day. most of it felt self-indulgent like what occurred in Sarajevo, being a fireman, coaching athletes – all that stuff.
but… is it possible I’m not doing enough for others?
how can I help you? what would “the Captain” do? how do we make today different, and build on that for tomorrow? is this another of my Kobayashi Maru? I’ll be channeling Captain Kirk this day, I reckon. heroes are needed. real, imagined, determined.
go listen to: Here’s to the Heroes by The Ten Tenors. just remember, we need heroes because there are victims amongst us. we just need to want to make a difference, in everyone’s lives.
peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
brian patrick cork
1/ I’m reasonably certain that every practiced SBUX barista between Gainesville and Peachtree City knows that my beverage of choice, practicality, and possibly, necessity, is an iced vente chai (whole milk with nine pumps of chai).