It’s a busy Friday, and not just here in my hood.
I feel a little like the person who sits in the token booth at the subway station. Trains are zooming by at regular intervals, each carrying strangers to different journeys and destinations. For example:
Today, a friend in California is celebrating her birthday.
Today, a friend in Tennessee is burying her father.
Today, a friend in Alabama is having a baby.
Today, a friend in Alaska is dealing with a terrible cold.
Today, a friend in Florida is waiting to find out what the two masses in her belly are.
Today, a friend here at work is dealing with the fact that her dad has stage four cancer.
Today, somewhere in the world, someone is buying overpriced coffee at a Barney’s, a Starbucks, a Dunkin Donuts.
Today, somewhere in the world, other people are dying, other people are burying, other people are birthing babies.
Today, somewhere in the world, people are killing, people are kissing, people are kindling.
Today, somewhere in the world, someone driving is allowing a pedestrian to cross the road, the pedestrian is doing the courtesy jog, giving the pinky wave.
Today, somewhere in the world, someone is writing these observations of life from her fishbowl.
It’s a busy day. I’m just sitting here in my booth, a second party to all these goings on. I’m watching these trains zoom past me, filled with people doing their thing, breaking the law, upholding the law, writing the law. They’re making things, using things, eating things, changing things. They’re breathing, gasping, laughing, crying. They’re shaking hands, shaking fists, shaking babies, shaking snow globes. They’re buying stuff, selling stuff, inventing stuff, mass producing stuff. They’re watching, waiting, wanting, wailing. They’re reading, railing, ranting and raving.
It’s a busy day.