I'm Listening

Today on my way up the fabled, marbled stairs of a building at the University of Michigan I passed about a dozen students scattered around the floor over giant sketchpads, sketching said fabled stairs.

Almost all of them had headphones on; so uniformly that at first I thought part of the assignment might have included some audio recording. But a few did not, and so I reject that hypothesis.

What this means is: I am surprised by our low tolerance for silence.

A Day in the Midwest

Yours Truly is in a Prominent Bank on a Prominent Street in a Town in Michigan, when a nearly toothless man in a wheelchair rolls in at top speed from a very snowy sidewalk. He has a backback that looks empty and the biggest Grin you have ever seen.

He halts, spins around once to take everyone in. Someone asks how his Christmas was. He shouts: "In my old age, I don't need anything new! I just want to be able to come in and say hello to my favorite bankers!"

Everyone exclaims hello back, asks how he has been since Christmas. He is, as you might expect, Outstanding.

He wheels up to the counter and addresses the gentle old lady teller with the salutation, "Hello, Marvelous!" Her response is not audible.

Immediately following that is the most rip-roaring conversation anyone has ever heard about how Kroger is the best grocery store anyone could have asked for. Everyone is involved and has a laudable thing to add about our Humble Grocery Chain.

When they run out of praises to sing, one lady helps him get something out of his backpack. He leaves in a flash, having done no banking. Everyone carries on. Yours Truly waits more.

(Insider tip: don't even think about going to Meijer unless you feel like waiting for a hundred years at their slow self checkout lines!!)

(Insider counter-tip: Yours Truly attended a Luncheon once with Hank Meijer, son of owner. He is, it turns out, a very Nice man, is writing a biography of his father, and is very Philanthropic to good causes like Microcredit. This post in no way intends to reflect the Opinion of Anyone, except for those stated herein, and heretofore.)

In another life I have fancy clothes and marble floors. I spend my days mostly indoors, except when I am outside by my pool or in my car with my driver on the way to a friend's house, which looks like mine, save different numbers of columns and different roundnesses of pools. Each day contains a martini, a rest, and a swim. In between those things, I feel impatient.

In another life I am a professor in a school where I walk over crunchy leaves a disproportionate time of the year compared to average, I wear glasses and a vest, think long, slow thoughts, and articulate them over wine to people just like me. We agree that it's all very exciting.

In another life I have short hair, wear tank tops every day, have a tattoo that wraps around one of my arms, and maybe even a nose ring. I run my own café that makes the best Americanos you've ever had, and also has really good raw food, including selections for those who don't like nuts! I laugh a lot and go on things like yoga retreats in Utah.