Richard, Issue #2
Your neighbors at The Doo-Dah Counter are some of the most interesting people you will ever meet. Don’t miss the opportunity. Give them one of your beautiful smiles, along with a Good Morning or Hi or Howdy, and start asking questions. You will be glad you did, and it is almost certain that they will too. If, however, you happen to scare someone, and he bites you, call the server and ask to have his breakfast put on your bill. It will be far more effective (and safer) than biting him back.
When a 40-year-old woman sat down next to me the other day, I put on one of my prettiest smiles and greeted her with a Good Morning. Durned if her smile wasn’t even prettier than mine! If she hadn’t been so charming, it might have made me mad. With a degree in mathematics, she used to work in Finance at Learjet. She said she likes her current position as Dean of Academics at a local high school even better, because she can sing and dance without being deemed weird. I asked her what a Dean of Academics does. Her response was that she gets to tell the teachers what to do. That young woman got my day off to a beautiful start, and I think I made a difference in hers, too.
At a Sunday buffet, a father showed me a photo of his two children and confided that marital problems keep him from seeing them as often as he would like. He seemed more cheerful when he left The Doo-Dah Counter. Another man, a biomedical engineer, was accompanied at The Counter by one of his 12 children, ages 8-18, 9 of them adopted. Marital problems do not seem to be one of his options.
My home, which was built several years before WWI, was bought by my daddy during WWII. I learned long ago that its nocturnal creaks and knocks are just ghosts, so I normally ignore them. However, one recent night, when it sounded as if they were getting a head start on Halloween, I decided to do some checking. All I found was a deceased cricket stuck to a mouse glue trap. When my computer finally gave me permission to go to bed, I happened to glance at the thirteen-inch-high empty plastic waste basket in the bedroom. Upon picking it up to examine the dark gray spot in the bottom, I spied a pair of small eyes pleading with mine. It was then that I learned a fact that I thought might interest you. A mouse can jump surprisingly high, about nine or ten inches, but thirteen is beyond its capabilities. I dressed and carried the basket with leaping mouse to the street. The neighbor on the other side had a trash barrel on the curb ready for pickup, so I dumped it in with her trash and closed the lid. Hopefully, it was hauled to the landfill, but if it escaped, I felt reasonably safe that it would no longer be my house that served as its home. You may wonder what this has to do with The Doo-Dah Counter. Nothing, but aren’t you glad to learn how high a mouse can jump?