Observing The People

I had an errand day today. You know. It's when you have to shop or complete some other kind of business in public. I don't like venturing out in the public domain because I know I'll meet people who are as weird or worse than I. But life brings obligations, and today I decided to reverse the strategy of ignoring all the crazies and craziness that we call "normal society" and instead observe them all.  When I observe what you and most others probably never notice when  you are out (it helps in maintaining sanity if you ignore the bizarre behaviors) I learn a lot about why the world is doing the mambo while I waltz.

While at a shop I immediately noticed a fellow mumbling to himself and picking areas of his body we aren't supposed to touch in public. He is the kind of guy you never look at directly, and seeing him I wondered if he was crazy or just stupid. So I backed off nd asked myself, How does one tell that a stupid person has dementia?  I bet even their mom's can't tell. It's pretty much the same behavior.

At the local Costco I saw a normal guy and overhead him tell the clerk who asked for a transaction, his date of birth that he was born in 1929. I had to talk to him because the older the person the more interesting is their rhetoric. There is something about longevity that brings wisdom and reminds us that there is an alternative perspective to the madness of the modern age in which we live. This is good for maintaining our sanity in an age of electronic alienation form reality.  I mentioned that he was "doing well for 87 and that I doubted that I would ever be lucky enough to be in a similar situation when 87 years passed since my birth. I told him that if I made it to 87 I would probably be confined to a in a nursing home all day where I would smile and stroke my love muscle. Oh well, maybe I'll be lucky enough to die before I am that old.  The grace and aplomb of that 87 year old was like a shot of enthusiasm that there might be some hope for humanity.

But at a clothing store I glanced forward and saw a "security" person. His t shirt  was emblazoned with the words "Property Loss".  Political correctness has met me face to face! So I asked him if he "found any of that lost property" . The joke was lost on him because PC types really think that changing the language changes reality.  As I walked away he glared at me, surely he suspect I was one who might "lose" the store's property if he didn't keep an eye on me. When I paid for a purchase at that store I made reference to the " property lost" with a sigh that I thought we customers would appreciate more honesty in labeling. Perhaps they should give him a new T shirt, one that says "Watching for Thieves".

Anyway, I had to make a hasty retreat from that clerk because I jokingly said that "I wanted to use a rest room here but haven't decided what sex to declare". She was a PC advocate and only glared at me in derision that I would joke about the crazy bathroom transgender rest room debate in the U.S. these days. Sigh, I should stay home more often....