An end worth waiting for

I’ll admit it… I’m encouraged. Yesterday morning I made the mistake of watching the news; an event I rarely engage in. The litany of social dysfunction included too many shootings, cars running into crowds and even a local dentist’s $57,000 trophy hunting demise (how much did that last filling cost?)… I arranged to pick up my daughter and grand-daughter to accompany me to a wedding in the evening. On the way to her house, a guy drove by me doing at least 80+ mph while eating a bowl of cereal; natural selection in progress was my initial thought. I’ve actually seen this performed three times this summer and wonder how I missed the launch of a new extreme sport. The three of us took a stroll at a shopping mall to pass some time before the wedding and to give me relief from having to wear long pants in 85 degree weather (called air conditioning). We stopped at a coffee kiosk for a “cold press, no cream if it’s not organic” and my usual “medium coffee”… mistake. Apparently, when ordering coffee, the idea is to get your name written on a cup so they remember to fill it. “Medium coffee” doesn’t qualify… no name on cup, no coffee after 10 minutes or so. The look I got when I mentioned that I hadn’t gotten my beverage was matched by the flurry of activity checking the receipt to see if I’d even ordered, and paid for, such a commonplace item. I had. No apology from the barista; apparently it was my own fault for not requesting something that required my name be on a cup. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself; that I’d had to encounter so much of America’s perceived “normalcy” in one day. The wedding was great but I’ll admit the reception was my highpoint. Heidi, Phoebe and I sat at a table for eight; just the right size for diaper bag, feeding equipment for a baby and my cell phone. We were joined by five young people who were entertained by Phoebe’s smile and newly discovered art of waving. In order they were a graduate student, a design engineer, a special education teacher, a nurse and a production engineer. All were 25 years old. We had, or at least I had, a great time learning about the passion each of them has for what they do, or hope to do. It was the best therapy for me at the end of a day containing way too much of what most expect from our culture… By the way, congratulations Casey and Michael.