Category: Life

Posted in Life

What if no one shows up?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Jonas Jacobsson on Unsplash

I host and facilitate a weekly online men’s bible study and discussion group. As host, I open up the Zoom room a few minutes before the scheduled start time and wait for everyone to join.

For some reason, it really feels strange being on Zoom all by myself. I sit there for a few moments and look at myself. I make sure I look okay. I brush my hair to the side. I make sure the lighting is okay. I make sure I’m not too close or far away from the camera. I shuffle my lesson papers around.

My mind starts to wonder.

  • What if no one else shows up? What if they all forget that we’re meeting today. I sent out reminders, so that doesn’t seem possible.
  • Maybe I set up the room wrong. No, that’s not possible. I don’t set up that part of the meeting.
  • Maybe everyone is traveling or sick, and can’t make it today. Would all fifteen guys would be indisposed on the same day? Doubtful.
  • Maybe the internet isn’t working right. I check my email. Everything is in order.

<Ding>

The first person shows up, and seconds later, more appear on my screen. All those thoughts drain from my mind, and our group is underway.

Years ago I had some similar analog thoughts. Analog means we actually met in person. I would open up for an appointment, meeting class, and then sit there wondering if anyone would show up. There were times when I got stood up for an appointment. No call, nothing, just a no show. A few of those and you start to get paranoid.

It really only happened a few times. But one time is enough to get your mind racing with all the “What ifs…”

Posted in Life

Gridlock at the grocery store

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Tara Clark on Unsplash

Stopping at the grocery store for just a few items took a lot longer than I planned. The Saturday afternoon gridlock of aisle wanderers lengthened my shopping experience.

First thing on my list is a few containers of frosting from the baking aisle. A man with a cart filled with bags of pretzels (?) paused to look up and down, back and forth at all the boxed cake mixes. I doubt he was there to buy any. He was mesmerized by pictures of picture of delicious cake. I waited a few moments, and when I realized he wasn’t leaving any time soon, I reached up and grabbed what I needed and scooted off to the next aisle.

Or at least I tried. At the end of that aisle was a couple bickering about whether they needed anything in that part of the store. They were stalled out, so I looped around to the other end to get what I needed. They might still be there, deciding if they need air freshener or not.

I thought I could make a quick swing through the meat section for a steak. Nope. A couple of offensive lineman sized female shoppers blocked off my approach from every angle. They certainly had no 40-yard speed to boast about. I decided to return after an attempt at the dairy section.

I had trouble getting near the dairy items, too. Three women were strolling side-by-side past the eggs, lamenting the inflated prices, oblivious to others in the store. There was no way to get by them. I patiently followed until one of them noticed me with a start and said with a note of annoyance, “O, excuse me!” and let me get some butter. I just smiled. At least on the outside.

I am always thankful to leave the grocery store in one piece mentally. It’s not easy, is it. The shopping may be a pleasure, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Posted in dogs, Life

He never saw it coming

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On a recent walk with my Great Dane, I shocked a young man back to reality.

Our two mile loop isn’t far from the community’s middle school, and on this day we were walking right around afternoon dismissal time.

I would guess the young man was in 7th grade, weighed down with a substantial backpack, head buried in his cell phone. As we closed the gap, I shook the leash to jingle her Dane bling, her large metal prong walking collar. He didn’t look up, absorbed in digital conversation.

We stopped, waiting for him to pass by, but he didn’t notice us until he was one foot in front of us. But then he did notice and jumped a foot up and back when he saw the beast staring at eye level, tail whipping back and forth, excited to greet a new friend. He was terrified, nervous, and shouted, “Whoa, I didn’t see you!”

It’s hard not to notice that 115 lb. of dog from 50 feet away. Whatever was on my phone would have to be amazingly absorbing to isolate me from every other reality surrounding me.

When he jumped, I couldn’t help laughing out loud. Sometimes we really worry about who’s watching us and what they think about us. Guess what? They aren’t watching you, they’re not thinking about you, and they don’t even know you’re there.

Not until they come nose to nose with that nose!

Posted in Life

Uh-oh. Now you’re in big trouble

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As I sat beneath this welcoming sign outside of Starbucks, I wondered, “How do they enforce these rules?”

If someone from a youth group stopped by and asked for a gift card donation for their summer mission trip fund raiser, would the barista reach under the counter and push the silent alarm button? Do you think the police have a ten code for that?

What do you think counts as “loitering”? A lot of people hang out at Starbucks for a long time, making phone calls, studying for a test, and interviewing for jobs. They use a coffee shop as their office. I suppose you need to buy something if you’re going to spend time there.

The recent remodeling of our neighborhood Starbucks eliminated a lot of seating, making it harder to camp out there.

All of these people were here for a long time. So was I as I watched them. Check out the guy on his second sugary venti drink.

What about trespassing? I guess that would be sitting at the tables after hours. I guess you wouldn’t want someone spending the night under a table out front or out back by the dumpsters.

Signs like this are only hung up when there’s been a problem with people soliciting, loitering, or trespassing. It’s too bad, since the proliferation of signs announcing what you can’t do detracts from really nice parks and buildings. In most places, it seems like you can’t do anything!

Posted in annoying people, Life

“Come on, hit me!”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
This isn’t actually her. But you get the idea.

I got to see a Karen in the wild today. She came out of Starbucks with both fingers blazing and a mouth ready to take a bite out of an SUV that was in her way.

Starbucks was crowded inside, so I had to sit outside at a table. The cloud cover made my shady table spot a pretty nice place to enjoy some ice coffee and do some writing. This particular Starbucks is on a busy corner of a shopping center where you’ll hear lots of horn honking on any given day.

A teenage granddaughter carrying a whipped cream topped cold drink came out trying to put some distance between her and grandma. I didn’t think much of it until I saw the older woman standing in front of an oncoming vehicle, yelling, “What are you going to do? Hit me? Go ahead! Hit me! Come on, hit me!” She raised both of her hands and fingers high, demanding the right of way. The SUV rolled to a stop and the surprised driver just sat there watching the show. Grandma finally stomped across the street to her parked car, and traffic started moving again.

I saw the SUV signal to turn in, so I kept watching to see if the situation would escalate. Would the driver get out and confront her? Box her in so she couldn’t get out of the parking lot? Lean on the horn? I secretly hoped so, but nothing happened. Maybe next time.

Next time came really quickly. A vey nice orange Mustang was slowly rolling into the Starbucks parking lot. The driver made sure we could hear the well-tuned exhaust. He was rolling too slowly for the guy behind him, who leaned on his horn. I chuckled as the Mustang slowed down even more, revved his engine a few more times, and stuck his finger up through the open sun roof.

It’s so entertaining to watch all of this. And it’s all over an overpriced cup of coffee. I hope they all ordered decaf. Everyone needed take it down a notch.

Posted in Life, neighbor, neighborhood

“Is he wearing two different colored socks?”

Posted on by William Douthwaite

If you’ve ever read my writing, you know I love to take a photo and wonder, “What in the world is going on here?” This is one of those moments.

The big dog and I were half way through our early morning walk when we came across this gentleman watering his gardens. He just moved into this just build house. He immediately tore out the builder’s stock landscaping plants and must planted something new, otherwise he’s just watering the mulch.

But the thing that really caught my eye was his socks. I asked the big dog, “Is he wearing two different color socks?” Intentional? Accidental? I don’t know.

  • I know that you’ve all got orphan socks at home. Dryers consume them so that we are left with drawers full of single socks with no partners. After a while, you just pull out two, knowing that you’ve got no matches.
  • It could be a special sock for a special foot condition. Perhaps a clean, white sock (or a black one) is better for whatever toe ailment he is nursing.
  • If you wake up before sunrise and don’t want to disturb other sleepers, you might pull out a mismatched pair in the dark. But most mismatched pairs would be blue-black, or colors not too different from one another. The contrast here would be difficult to miss, even in the darkest room.
  • Maybe his partner is wearing the exact same pair, and he had no others to choose from.
  • Some of my grandsons wear mismatched socks on purpose. They find certain color combinations appealing, especially when dressing in uniform for a sport.

I should have stopped and asked. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he doesn’t care. I know, maybe it’s none of my business.

But it’s fun to speculate.

Besides, black and white works, right? It works for cookies, zebras, newspapers, and photographic effects.

Posted in Life

Don’t take yourself too seriously

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Irene Strong on Unsplash
Daily writing prompt
If humans had taglines, what would yours be?
View all responses

My tagline would be “Don’t take yourself too seriously.” It’s been my mantra for a while. One could paraphrase that as “Lighten up,” “It’s not about you,” or “Just relax.”

My tagline helped me keep perspective during my career in full-time pastoral ministry. The church was there before me and it’ll be there when I’m gone. Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Believe it or not, there are a lot of unhappy people who go to church. I would wonder, “Was it something I said or didn’t say?” Or, “Was it something I did or didn’t do?” Most of the time it wasn’t even about me. Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Knowing how fragile memory is, I knew that within months of my retirement, some would mention, “The pastor who was here before…what was his name?” I know that because they forgot my predecessor’s name a few months after I started preaching. So, don’t take yourself too seriously.

On one occasion, I was at the church and dressed in a black clerical shirt. Someone walked in and asked me, “Are you the pastor?” I chuckled then and I’m chuckling now. Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Much of the time, people aren’t really paying attention. They aren’t listening to you. They’re thinking about themselves. They tell you what they think you want to hear.

In response to all of that, I try to pay attention to what’s going on around me. I work hard to listen. I try to express myself in a sincere, positive way.

And I don’t take myself too seriously.

Posted in Life, sounds

There are some sounds I no longer hear

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Yesterday, I talked about all the sounds I heard in the distance, sounds that immediately brought images to mind. Today, I happened to think, “There are some sounds I don’t hear any more.”

  • Like a phone ringing. By that, I mean, the ringing of a phone hanging on the wall of my home when someone called. Ninety percent of the time, I’ve got the ringer on my phone turned off. It’s in my pocket and I feel a vibration when someone calls. But the phone automatically silences the majority of my calls, since they are from unknown numbers. Once in a great while (usually in church or a movie theater), someone’s ring tone will be that traditional harsh. It’s annoying. I don’t miss it at all.
  • I don’t hear the doorbell. I disconnected it. When we had one, the only time someone pressed the button was when someone was taking a nap. It could be me. It could be a grandchild. The dogs would go nuts, the kid would start crying, so I cut one of the wires inside the wall unit. Problem solved.
  • I don’t hear the sound of nails being hammered. All I hear at new home construction sites are nail guns run by noisy compressors. I suppose the carpenters have a hammer somewhere in the back of their truck, but I don’t hear it hitting a nail very often.
  • I no longer hear coffee percolating. Our coffee maker pushes hot water through a pod with a surprisingly quiet hissing sound. When we travel, it take about ten minutes to burp the water through an old Mr. Coffee. I don’t miss him at all.
  • And speaking of phones, I no longer get a busy signal when someone is on another call. Instead, I am sent immediately to voice mail.

The sounds I don’t hear tell an interesting story about innovation, technology, and our changing world.

Posted in Life, memories

My first grade broken ankle

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
Have you ever broken a bone?
View all responses

I don’t have a lot of memories from first grade, but I do remember breaking my ankle at the end of that school year.

Some friends and I were playing on a swing set that included a two person glider. For some reason I put my right foot down as the glider came back, making my foot twist backwards at a painful angle. I hobbled home and my mom, a nurse, looked at the swelling, wasn’t too concerned, and had me put some ice on it.

I went to school the next day and hobbled around as the pain got worse and worse. When I got home, it was more swollen than the day before, so my mom took me to the doctor. This was 1964, so the family doctor was your one stop shop for medical care. The doctor took an x-ray, saw the fracture, and wrapped my ankle up in a heavy plaster cast. For the next four weeks, I hopped around school on crutches as the ankle healed.

Finally, the four weeks were up, and it was time to remove the cast. The doctor used a special circular saw designed to cut only the cast and not the skin beneath. Once he took it off, I remember my right leg floated up as if it were weightless. But just for a moment. Then I was back to normal, assured that an ankle with a healed fracture was stronger than one without.

I found one picture from my dad’s old slides of me in the cast. Looks like I’m having a good time!