Friday, March 5, 2010
The virtuous stuff that makes you patient, the stuff that sloshes around some place in our brains, waiting fluid, or whatever it's called, has been all but neutralized by adrenaline within me. I hate to wait. I've been that way since I was a kid and life for me has been a series of speeding from one event to the next and having to anxiously wait at each stop anticipating when I could move on. I don't know why I'm wired that way. It really isn't much fun. I'm sure that life would be better if I'd take the time to slow and smell something. I don't want to. I'd rather move along and take the smells with me. I've grown better though as I've aged but my wife must continually tell me that we're not in a hurry.
I've been fortunate that I haven't been ticketed much for speeding. I usually drive over the limit wherever I go. However, I'm invariably slowed by something in the way. More often than I like, I get behind a school bus, truck or someone who doesn't care about my self-imposed life schedule. Traveling down the highway, staring at a semi's rear wall of sheet metal is such a joy and, if traffic is slow in my lane, I'll switch to find the new lane slowing and watching cars I was behind pass me. I must wait, until life lets me by.
The supermarket is no exception. I'll get in the shortest line and someone ahead will cause a delay as other lines move on efficiently. I remember once I thought I was lucky and found a lady in the express lane with no one behind her. I stepped up to her just as the cashier anounced the purchase sum. I'd be on my way in just a few minutes. The woman pulled out a coin purse and proceeded to pay in change. As she counted, each click of a coin against the counter pierced my ears and seconds slowed to match her pace. I was watching grass grow. It took forever. I've decided that whatever line I get in, no matter where, my presence will slow it. Fast food is for others. I must be cursed and I'm certain Providence is behind it all. Too bad I'm a slow learner.
We met the lady I've drawn in a small gallery in Hailsham, England. She was chatting with the proprietor and having tea. I was immediately struck by her bright blue eyes. Her blue tweed coat and beret seemed to make them glow. I asked if I could take her photo. She obliged and posed as you see her. Her name was Anne.
A delightful gal who we learned, bicycled all over France in her youth. I'm sure she turned some heads and got a few jealous looks. She talked and talked, and talked some more until time started to warp. I had to get on to the next unknown event. We finally pulled away as her words clung to us and continued our meandering through the town. We saw her later, crossing a mall court to a shop. I'd have hated to stand in line behind her. She probably carried alot of coins.