Lately I have noticed that people have changed their manner of greeting me when I walk up to them at a yard sale or such. Over the years I have become accustomed to greetings like “Whatta ya say man?” or “Hey man, what’s happening?” Or maybe a friendly, “Good Morning!” Recently I have observed more and more strangers look at me and ask, “Are you alright?” “Would you like to sit down?” I generally answer them by doing a little dance while I sing, “Zip a dee do da, Zip a dee day. My oh my what a wonderful day.” After three or four choruses, I buy something from them that is very inexpensive and get out of there fast. I don’t want any of them calling 9-1-1.
After my shower and shampoo, I looked good to me in the mirror. OK, so my face does look a little like the Wrinkle Fairy slept with it all night, but for 91 I look good to me. I guess others have to get used to our aging in small doses, not have it thrust upon them by someone walking across their front lawn possibly delivering the slight hint of instability. I have noticed people going out of their way to hold doors for me when I go shopping, in fact I have seen several running toward a door that needs opening when I am approaching. It looks like they are trying to beat me inside the store and I prepare for an ugly bump but no, they are just exceeding the need for courtesy.
My mama taught me to open doors for women or even girls and now this turnabout seems like excessive fair play sometimes.
It’s not that I don’t need help. It’s that I don’t like needing it.
Be the first to comment