Chad's spot for various thoughts, musings, poetry, ideas and whatnot

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

The Poetry in a Moment

As I go through life, I try to pay attention. Not just to the big things and the "important" things, but the little things that make life interesting and worth living. I call it looking for the poetry of the moment. Sometimes it can be simple things that are beautiful such as the shape of cloud or the warmth of a breeze or riding past someone's house and smelling the meat on the grill. Sometimes it's turn of a person's words that strikes me or what someone will do; like a child who runs up to a parent and gives them a big hug. Sometimes the moments even involve me as was the case this last weekend.

I was coming back from my first century ride of the year. I had done 100 hilly miles down near Pine Mountian and was driving home. Since the ride was only about an hour away from the house (by car) I hadn't taken anything to change into after the ride. So as I'm coming back I decide I need to stop and get a little more to drink at the local convenience store in Woodbury. Some places like this are real "corporate". Not much local flavor. This was not one of those places. There were signs in the window declaring that hunting and fishing licenses could be purchased, tobacco of various varieties could be found and Budweiser was on sale. Inside were men in plaid shirts, Wrangler jeans and baseball caps. More than one had a big belt buckle and I would bet that it had been a while since any of the men had seen their feet while standing up if you know what I mean. A real good ol' boys kind of place or, more generously, an outdoorsman's convenience store.

So in I go, all clad in tight fitting spandex and lycra. I'm used to the weird looks and strange stares, I get them all the time. A skinny guy with shaven legs wearing cycling shorts and a red, black and white jersey with tribal thorn patterns on it is going to get looked at here in the rural South. I can feel the guys giving me the once look over trying to determine if I'm "OK" or not and if something should be done about me. By the time I get to the soda fridge and have nodded pleasently to another customer, most of it dies down. That's typical too. Once folks realize I'm not freaked out or on drugs or from California they usually pretty much relax. The curious will even strike up a conversation. Not here though.

As I walk back to the register to pay for my "light, crisp, refreshing" diet beverage, the propietor kind of seems to keep glancing at me. I can tells he's distracted by me. He and his wife are having a conversation. Actually, she's pestering him quite a bit about dinner. Apparently, they're going to get take out from one of the local dining establishments and she wants to know what he wants. You can tell he's trying to think about what she's saying but he's having a hard time focusing. It's not just that we're conducting a transaction though, there's more to it than that. People transact all the time and still hold conversations. No, it's something about me. I'm thinking that he's having a hard time coming to terms with the whole cyclist look. But in one clear moment then the issues sort themselves out for me. As he rings up the cash register and takes my money the drawer opens up and hits his belly. As he absent-mindedly hands me my change he says to his wife,

"I guess I'll just have a salad"

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