Rude and Oblivious

There are days when I can’t handle going outside. It’s the rudeness of others that really ticks me off and it is getting so that I am not sure I can be counted on to not say something to the offenders.  This is why I love getting older...I can consider reprimanding people and not feel bad about it. Does that make me rude? I don’t think so. I think I would be doing all of society a favor.

Today’s offender put both Angelo and I in a bad mood.  Here’s what happened: Deciding to get some fresh fruits and veggies into our house, we happily pulled into the Adams grocery store parking lot.  (We decided about the fresh fruits and veggies because we had just eaten lunch at  G’s Burgers and were feeling a little...uncomfortable.) Spotting a space close enough for carrying the bags back without a cart, but far enough away to count the distance as a “walk” in our fitness plan, Angelo began to edge our van into the space.  He slowed because the woman driving the Acura next to us was still closing her door and needed to move her cart out of our way. But she didn’t move the cart...she left it in the middle of the space and walked around to the driver’s side and got in. We were stuck partway in and partway out, thinking she would certainly notice an enormous silver van pulling in next to her, but her head was crooked downward tractor-beamed by her smartphone’s screen and she didn’t budge. I jumped out and moved the cart, but between Angelo stubbornly staying where he was and the proximity of all the other cars around the space, I had to push the cart down a row before I could get it out and put it in the corral, right next to the Acura. I made a bunch of noisy ahems and coughs so the lady could see the error of her ways and apologize. I even walked right past her window and looked in, but she was glued to whatever important information was coming at her through her phone. Once on the other side of her car, I opened my door and said, maybe just a little loudly, “she didn’t even look up!” to Angelo. (These are the kinds of statements that make my daughter cringe when we’re out together. I am learning to only act this way in the company of others who are 50 or older.) Still nothing from the Acura driver until she pulled out of her parking space and zoomed off.  

Angelo parked and we walked into the store but this microscopic little incident had the power to irritate us both to the point of crabbiness. To be honest, he was crabbier than I was and I realized this when he objected to my choice of pasta for the evening.  

“Really? I have to get a different pasta?” I asked since I was now three aisles away from pasta.

“That one won’t go with my sauce,” he said.

“We’re not having sauce, just olive oil, broccoli and parm,” I said.

“We’re not having sauce...?” he said with a slight pout and I knew I was changing our dinner menu.

I don’t know why I let the oblivion of others get to me. Of course I think it’s gotten worse in the smartphone era. When I was waiting for a flight one day last week, I looked around and nearly every single head was angled downward and a sea of forefingers flicked here and there navigating screens.  But I do that...take the opportunity to check my mail (mostly spam), the weather (still warm!), my book sales (plummeting), and Words with Friends (their move) whenever I have a free five, ten minutes or so.  But I hope I don’t do it to the exclusion of the rest of the human race.  I’ve seen people walk through doors without holding it open for the person behind them or leave wads of dirty napkins on coffee shop tables because they are oblivious to the world around them and the idea that someone else might want to bring their coffee to a table without having to clean up after someone else’s who-knows-what kind of schmutz crumpled up in a napkin is an idea that occurs to very few these days.

As usual, the lesson here is that I can’t change anyone but myself. Fine.  Then, I guess the key is to remember to not let myself get so caught up in my virtual world that I forget that I am a part of a bigger, human and, let’s face it, more interesting world around me that I can hear, touch, smell, see and taste. Or yell at.

What makes it all worthwhile

I am going to try very hard to not sound like I'm bragging or being otherwise obnoxious, but I have to write a little bit about something that happened yesterday.

There I was, minding my own business at a local winery (Connecticut Valley Winery if you must know. And you should because they have wonderful wines there) hovering about with my fellow AAPG authors at an event called Wine Stories. The winery paired their wines with our books and we had a chance to talk about them when each wine was introduced.

It wasn't a difficult way to spend a potentially rainy Saturday afternoon, particularly because we were encouraged to try out the wines that our books were paired with. Which we did. (Mine was Olè Sangria. Yum.)

Of course, most of the folks who showed up, including a bus tour and a bachelorette party, were there to sample and purchase wines, not books, so I wasn't terribly busy. However, I enjoyed chatting with the other authors, meeting the vintners and checking out which wine I might have to bring home after I was done for the day.

About halfway through the afternoon, a woman walked up to my table and introduced herself. She told me she had picked up my book at a bookstore in Kent, Conn. (House of Books...another charming place to visit - and not just because evidently they sell my book) She told me that she had come from her home almost an hour away because she read that I'd be at the winery that day. She came specifically to meet me because she wanted to tell me how much she enjoyed reading my book and how easily she had identified with the topics I covered in my essays. She said that she enjoyed the humor and, quite honestly, she said a whole bunch of other really wonderful and lovely things but I was so astounded and flattered it was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. I think I had this stupefied look on my face and I was slightly aware of trying not to sound like an idiot as I tried to convey to her how much it meant to me that she had made such an effort to come and tell me these very meaningful things.

I mean, seriously. How lucky can I be to have had an experience like this? But wait. It gets even more astounding.  A little bit later, a friend of mine showed up with a crew of five wine-loving friends in tow. That in itself was a huge gift to my authorly aspirations. Places like wineries and bookstores like  it when an author can bring in customers.  On their way out after their tasting and book-buying (because they supported the other authors, too. It's a good crew) one of the women hung back and came to speak to me. She told me that after she attended one of my readings and heard me speak about publishing my book--something I had always wanted to do--she was inspired to begin taking the music lessons she had always dreamed of and is now playing the violin. Again, I hoped that the look I had on my face conveyed gratitude rather than flabbergasted as she shared this very personal accomplishment.

When I published my first book I imagined Ellen or Oprah would call, but in reality I knew they wouldn't; they don't have my phone number. I guess I thought I'd sell some books, visit some bookstores and then write another book. Or something like that. I'm not much of a business-person, and I didn't really have much of a business plan. Or any realistic business expectations at all. I suppose I thought my reward would be the financial one, if there even was a financial reward after all the costs associated with this little venture of mine.

But as always happens in life, there is often a very different reward in store when you embark upon your heart's desire. Nothing could have prepared me for the depth of appreciation and gratitude I feel when someone tells me that reading my book has given them pleasure. Or made them laugh, or think. I don't know about other writers, but hearing that the words I pull out of my heart have the ability to ring true with others is a gift I have yet to come to terms with.

So, business-wise, my day ended in a loss. I only sold two books--to other authors--and bought another author's book myself. And some wine, obviously.  But writer-wise, my day was right up there in the top ten.

Thank you Terri, Heather and Nancy for one of the best days ever.