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Blogs by Marge B. Fulton
A Tap on the Back 9/19/2008 8:46:58 AM
Mean vs Nice. Sugar and Spice. My father once said you can divide all people into two categories, the fixers and the breakers. He had owned and operated a hardware store and sold insurance among other things. That analogy fitted his lines of work very well.
I hate to divide people into these and those. So many of us do not remain in one camp. In fact, if you claim one side on the issues and huddle in that place, it seems to make you a sitting duck. Being a lonewolf can be a survival tactic. The wolfpack is not an easy target.
Today while I did my Friday shopping, someone tapped me on the back. Let's face it, we are not used to being tapped on the shoulder. I almost swung around in a fit. There was a stooped over, elderly man with a few items jumbled up in his open hand. Business cards and pocket combs.
The card explained that he was deaf. He is selling combs, it elaborates. He had an honest face and did the sign for pretty, not for me but for my monogrammed purse. In a small town, we usually know the handicapped people in our midst. This guy was new to me. After all, there is a carnival in town.
I dug into my pretty purse. Having just been to the bank, I had three fifty dollar bills and some change. I gave him four quarters and pointed to my ears. "I can't hear good either," I told him. He smiled and nodded.
There by the bread rack, I got a new take on life. Not fixers or breakers. This may be childish but I see the world today through the eyes of a child. I can divide the world into two groups, the mean and the nice.
Just plain mean people seem to rule and conquer. Of course there are a bunch of mean people at the bottom of the food chain too. Why is it that business people or politicians have to step on others to get ahead? Then you have people that are mean to themselves, destroying their own minds and bodies. Harming their families and friends. A mean spirit will kick in doors for you. Nice guys are supposed to finish last, right?
I am happy to have the pocket comb. When life taps you on the back, decide for yourself. Nice folks can always muster up meaness when it is called for. Mean folks can't fool us when they play the nice card. Maybe tomorrow I won't see things in such a childish fashion. Something today awoke the child in me, and I just have to play around with society. Now I need to comb my hair out of my eyes.
