We had a wonderful time on our 35th anniversary! We went to Friendly Farm and had the usual perfect meal in the usual perfect surroundings. We went there while we were still a young engaged couple, and now look at us, engaged in love more and more. I know, I don't deserve it, but whaddya gonna do?
No trip to the North County is complete without going across the Pennsylvania state line (into Penn-sa-VANE-ya) to see their Super WalMart, where they grudgingly stock a few Ravens items alongside the Eagles ware. We did a lot of Christmas shopping, and it was fun while in the toy aisle to be able to text friends and ask what kind of toys their kids had requested from Santa. Modern convenience meets ancient custom.
But on the way out to the car, I spotted one lonely glove left (dropped?) on the WalMart lot. The Holden Caulfield in me (even down to the greying temples!) felt immediate and deep sadness for the glove, which would have loved to be doing its job on a 26° night, but could not, and for its erstwhile owner, who was walking around with one damn cold hand, I'll tell you that right now. Just as Holden worried about the ducks in the lake and the kids falling off the edge of the field of rye, I worry about lost inaminate objects.
Peggy's Zen wisdom would tell me that at least the guy had ONE warm hand. But then again, I hate to have an odd number of anything.
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