Family of four on vacation; laughing, giggling, tugging at
one another as they enter the restaurant. Led to a table, they sit and read the
menu. The youngest tells mommy what she wants without reading the menu; doesn’t
read yet. The oldest boldly reads aloud his choices. Dad and mom peruse a few
minutes and then nod to the waitress. The order is taken without fuss and the
waitress leaves them to their giggles.
The couple at the counter sits quietly. They have been here
before. No menu needed. They tell the waitress their meal selections and sit
quietly, waiting for the plates to appear. They say nothing to each other, but look self-contained. They are in their early 70’s.
Three teens stumble in, take seats at the counter. Cokes and
burgers for all three. Betty the waitress knows them and jokes with them
easily. The kids gab freely and are at ease in the company of the other diners.
Middle aged man enters solemnly. Stoic, even. The black and
white collar tag him as clergy. His brow is furrowed. He acknowledges the
server and walks to his usual table in the corner. He is in deep thought.
The 40-ish woman walks in tentatively. She is carrying two
shopping bags from local shops. It’s time for lunch and she finds a booth to
spread out her bags. With a deep sigh she orders a salad lunch with iced tea. Calories
are a thing with her. She dines sparingly.
Five tables of patrons, five of them seated at the counter. But
still, 5 gatherings of diners on a mission to eat. It is mid-day and the
weather is overly warm. July is like this in central Iowa. A pleasant town home
to farm families and two small manufacturing firms. Three banks are at home on
three different corners in the business district. Hardware store and auto parts
shop are on the edge of town center. Clothing stores, jewelry shops (2), and
various specialty boutiques populate the shopping district. This is a small
town of 22,000. Been here since the mid-1800’s.
The traveling family are outsiders yet they feel
welcome. Everyone else is a long-time resident of the immediate area. They don’t
‘know’ each other, but they are known to one another. They are the townspeople.
They are the diversity of the region.
In other parts of town – out by the interstate, on the edge of town by the now empty school buildings – activity drones on in unbroken routine. Fast food outlets are busy at the noon hour; so too, are
the gas stations, convenience stores and the truckers’ diner. The feed stores
are quite busy. Farm families are shopping for supplies and personal items. Traffic
passes by on the rural highway while interstate travelers whoosh by overhead. In
the distance tractors and farm vehicles are at work in the glimmering
sunshine.
A peaceful scene. Central Iowa. A farming area doing what
it does. Passers-through doing what they do. Families doing what they do, too. All
kinds of families – alone, singles, old, young, middle-aged and self-selected age
groups, too. This is the cross section of society here. Each doing
his/her/their thing. Each with life on their minds complete with hopes and
dreams.
What binds them together? What separates them? Are they
happy, sad, scared or hopeful? What thoughts occupy their minds?
All seems quiet and in proper place. But is it? Can you tell
what their lives are like? Or are we placing our life experience on them?
Surfaces do not tell the story. That is beneath the surface,
the story. And we cannot know of it unless shared.
July 27, 2018
ReplyDeleteNice post.
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