“Huh?” I replied from a mid-afternoon daze.
“Eighteen dollars and 19 cents is your total.”
I awkwardly looked down at what I was purchasing.
“I’m just getting this.” I said as I picked up my wrapped turkey sandwich, and a bottle of Dasani water.
“Yes, all of our food is made fresh daily.”
I stared at her with a look she had probably seen 20 times today. She knew it was an absurd price, she also knew that was a ridiculous answer. Of course your sandwich was made today, this isn’t 7-11.
“Ummm, ok.” I reluctantly paid and realized that no matter what, my lunch was going to be disappointing.
I walked out to the small attached courtyard and took a seat at one of the red picnic tables that surrounded the square. I peeled the brown deli paper off one side of my recent purchase and took a bite. It was good, but only $8 or $9 good.
A mother and child, or what appeared to be a mother and child were sitting directly across from me. Mom was dressed like an $18 sandwich is something she doesn’t think twice about. She was on the phone, while the child, who was likely between 7-10 years old impatiently bounced on the bench next to her.
I took another bite.
Empty wrappers littered the table in front of them, lunch was over, and this kid is about to lose it.
She dismisses him again without eye contact as she brushes his tugging hand off of her upper arm.
The kid has a red mustache on his upper lip, a result of whatever sugary beverage is sitting in his half empty cup. He spins around.
Another bite.
My eyes wander around the courtyard, scanning for something else interesting. I slowly eye the handful of other snackers, none of which grab my attention. A quiet Tuesday afternoon.
I start into the second half of my sandwich and come back to the scene across from me. The child has buried his head into his folded arms on top of the table. He peeks up and reaches for his cup with one hand, turning his head slightly towards his mother, who is still fully engrossed in her phone conversation. He scoots the cup closer to the edge, takes another quick look, and tips the cup over spilling the red high fructose drink all over his moms white pants. All over. She drops the phone onto the concrete patio. I can hear the screen crack just before she lets out a yelp.
So, I was wrong, this lunch was not disappointing.

through the eyes

We are made up of primarily water and air. There is more space between the cells that make up our bodies than actual cells that make up our body. It’s crazy to think about. By all logic I feel like I should be able to take my hand and push it right through my torso as if I were digging into a giant bin of dry rice. Even with this similar make up, somehow we all look a little different. Sure, we have a doppelganger or 2 out there, but we have significant physical variations. Many other animals don’t.
When I see a squirrel, walk 4 blocks and see another squirrel I think to myself “Is that the same squirrel? Is that little fella following me?!!” Same thing with a crow, a pigeon, or a turtle. A really really fast turtle. Animals can have distinguishing marks, but most of these creatures look the same to me. A good friend told me she couldn’t even tell The Rescue Rangers apart. So if I can’t tell these animals apart, even cartoon versions that I am supposed to be able to tell apart, can these animals tell humans apart?
Let’s take chipmunks. If they recognize each other, but not humans, they go out to forge for food and in their head they see the same person 30 times. They have to be like, “whaaaaaaa?!!?”
Imagine if you walked to the grocery store and saw 30 chipmunks but didn’t know there were 30 chipmunks, you just thought it was the same one every time you turned a corner. You would FREAK OUT.
I realize I have not chosen the most terrifying animal, but regardless of that, I would be paranoid. “What does this little thing have in store for me?!!”
So if we do indeed all just look like agents from The Matrix, then the skittish behavior of many of our fellow globe dwellers is completely justified.
There really is no conclusion to this, it was just a thought.

North Korea, stop it, really.

“The Dark Country” is flexing it’s muscle, and as we sit back and try to pay attention to the main stage that is the Middle East, something is going on over there that can’t be ignored.
It is an inferiority complex passed down through an entire family of leaders. Kim Il-Sung was selected by the Soviets to lead the people of Korea, eventually establishing what would become North Korea in 1948. He ruled until his death in 1994. Next up, Kim Jong Il. Kim Jong Il was a horrible oppressor, and is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of North Koreans due to preventable starvation and horrendous working conditions. While he wreaked havoc across his own country, those outside of the borders could feel pretty certain whatever threats spilled out of his mouth were completely idle (with the exception of South Korea).
Enter Kim Jong Un. More to prove, smaller penis?
He has openly stated that he would like to attack the US. Targets of Los Angeles, Washinton D.C. and…..Austin have been cited. Austin?
Here is the thing. We are occupied with 2 major wars. It is looking more and more likely that we will get involved heavily in some shape or form in Syria. The US has spent 4-6 trillion dollars between Iraq and Afghanistan, and way too many soldiers have lost their lives trying to make the best out of an awful situation.
We are trying to leave Iraq with order in place, we have been trying to do so for a decade. Afghanistan as well. It has been costly, heart wrenching, maddening, and controversial. Kim Jong Un, if you are to attack, this is not the treatment you will receive. Ground troops and diplomacy will not be the major concerns. It will be a full military attack to destroy any possibility of threat you may have, perceived or actual. So really, stop. No one wants that. Right?
We have seen pictures of your military, and it’s not impressive. Either you are Trojan horsing the hell out of the entire world, or you have an army that might very well be completely taken out by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
First, relax. Second, you want to impress your people and earn ultimate respect? Feed your citizens. Take care of them. You catch more bees with honey than sandpaper. I think that is how the saying goes.
And if you don’t want to cook, fine, maybe we send over this guy to do it. Couldn’t be worse than Rodman.

What do you want to be?

At some point in your life you have been asked, “what do you want to be when you grow up?”. The question itself is super broad, but it is also defined in most peoples minds as “what do you want your profession to be?”. I think a perfectly suitable answer to this question would be, “I want to be a nice guy/girl, self-sufficient, help people that I can and always be friendly”. Seems pretty good to me. This person could be president of the United States, an accountant, or a waiter at Denny’s, who cares. Universally this is a person I would hang out with.
We are not defined by our jobs, yet even though I say that I have certainly had feelings about people based on what they do for a living. Some of us studied a field and became a worker in that area. Maybe it is something you love, or maybe it was something you loved when you were a college sophomore and forced to choose a major. Either way, it is still just a part to a whole.
I still don’t know what I want to do as a profession when I grow up, but I know what I want to be, as a person. Which I think is a much more important question and answer.
There have been studies stating that the average person will have 7 career changes in their lifetime. Cool, I can still be a professional baseball player.