Finished up a the gym this morning and got my coffee. I chatted for a bit with Vicki while giving Miles Davis, who happens to be her dog, a good scratch and tickle. He seems rather lonely now that Cleo has passed on. And I got thinking of all the people who touch our lives on a daily basis, however, inconsequential it may seem. When I first started at this gym I was quite large. There was this guy Harold, just a sweet old fella, and he used to sing Bob Marley to me every morning. He was a shameless flirt and so encouraging.
He would smile at me when I came and say ‘Lookin’ good, baby doll.’
He was like that with everyone, by the way. And so along with everyone else that goes to that gym in the morning I developed a little ritual with Harold. I would go and say my ‘Good Morning’ and he would sing to me and then I would give him a hug and a kiss. Harold got kissed by every woman in the place. He got handshakes from all the men. Just over a year ago he passed away at the age of 88. He had still been in the gym three weeks prior to his death. He is very much missed by everyone there.
I got to the office and started to fix my breakfast. I pulled out a spoon and went to take that one then spied a ‘better looking’ spoon. It struck me then how odd we can be about certain things. There was nothing wrong with the first spoon I had in my hand, just the second one was a bit more shiny. Then I got to thinking about these things that we do and wondered about them. How many of you have a favorite coffee mug? I know I do and I recall years ago that I had a mug that I loved and I broke it. I looked everywhere for another mug like it.
Then you have times when you go into a store and bam! You look up and there is your next favourite mug. Now the one that you once used is pushed to the back of the cupboard, likely never to be used again. Why the emotional attachment to these items? And isn’t it funny if someone visiting you uses one of your favourite items. You look at them in absolute horror and now they have somehow contaminated the thing. It is never is quite the same after that, is it?
We are like that with clothes and shoes as well. These odd little attachments.
Years ago I was at a friend’s house and we were doing some major cleaning. She had this Curious George children’s chair that was now ratty and literally coming apart at the seams. We were doing a run out to the dump so she tossed that into the pile. Her teenage son freaked out when he saw that she was throwing out the chair.
“You can’t get rid it! I love that chair.” he proclaimed.
“You can’t even use it anymore, you are too big.” she replied looking at him somewhat perplexed, “It’s going out.”
He began to cry then and he wailed. The fight was on. The two of them were standing on the street in a tug of war over this thing. All the while he was screaming, “I want Curious George, I love Curious George!” at the top of his lungs.
My girlfriend finally got it into the truck and her son then threw himself down on the ground and had a tantrum.
Despite his despair, I found the exchange quite funny, which only pissed him off that much more. He is now in his 30’s and every once in a while I will chuckle and remind him of that event. To this day he loves Curious George and will openly admit it.
So it is odd that we develop such attachments to inanimate objects. The emotional investment is at times just crazy.
Tomorrow, should I have such a thought, I think I will just try using the spoon I originally picked up and see if makes any difference and if I will dwell on it.
Enjoy your Tuesday, wherever you may be.