Life Lessons Learned in Retail: Part 1

I can't describe fully the sense of urgency and restlessness that comes over me when I read the subtitle of this blog: "I'll make mine a story worth telling." Most days, I feel as if I have fallen away from the adventure, discomfort and journeying that make any story worth telling. It is worrisome to think I am letting some of my best days get away from me. Maybe I should be pursuing some grand adventure now, trusting that my reason (and possibly my checkbook) will guide me to a straighter course later on. So I often wonder, what am I doing working at this job at the mall? Why should I, with a head and heart for much greater things, allow myself to settle like this?

And then I have an experience like the conversation I had with an elderly gentleman the other night. He was an Army veteran who had served a number of years before he became a school teacher. He had voted for Kennedy (he reminded me several times) and even worked on Kennedy's campaign, but he was an old-school red-blooded American and is now entirely outraged by the new politics of the Democratic party.

He unabashedly proclaimed his political beliefs to me as I was closing up my store the othe night, and it slowly became clear that he was at least as misinformed as he was opinionated. He believed we have all been tricked into believing in Obama, when the real truth is that Obama has falsified his birth certificates. He is a smooth talker and has conspired with the FBI to keep them covered up. Obama is in bed with China, who is obviously our communist mortal enemy, and he is building a secret civilian task force that will have the same invasive powers as Hitler's SS or Mao Zedong's Red Army. Finally, he warned me about the dangers of all these new windmills that are being built. Had I even thought about the danger they pose to commercial aircraft coming in for low landings on a foggy day?

Threatening Windmills

No, I hadn't. And yes, I have stupidly trusted that someone along the line has checked that Barack Obama is indeed a U.S. citizen. But despite myself, this man's rage and passion left me unnerved. How could someone have so much hate for a country he claimed to love so much? I remembered something one of my professor's taught me: we cannot experience great disappointment without great love.

This man dearly loved the America he remembered--the country he knew when he was my age. It was a great nation back then in the 1950's and 1960's, and he was proud of it. Our country today is vastly changed. New technology, new business, a global economy, nuclear threats, and a war few of us really understand. And what the hell is Twitter anyway? It's no wonder this man was upset. He probably feels lost in his own land most days.

Grant Park, Chicago. November 4, 2008. Photograph by Molly Ryan

So, all this has come to my next movement of this blog and an answer to my question--why am I doing what I'm doing right now?

I am young and restless, but mostly young. Listening to this old man rant, I began to understand that he has seen far more history pass than me, and if we got past his fear of windmills and the present state of America, I could really learn something from him.

Young people should have large ears and small mouths. I am determined to spend the next few months learning as much as I can. There is no syllabus, there are no lesson plans. There is only an open door to my store and my open ears to any stranger who wanders in. Even in plain-old Blaine, Minnesota there are people with stories worth hearing.