Thinking of end things

Ever have a moment when a big revelation hits you? Maybe at the oddest times? I had one yesterday, and it still feels correct today.

As I was driving around town doing errands yesterday, I pulled into the gas station. Given the time it is, right before a big holiday, there was a small wait for the various gas pumps. SUVs, compacts and my wagon all lined up in rows like baby cows waiting for our time at the fossil fuel teat.

The car ahead of me stopped at the first open pump instead of pulling all the way through the line to the last pump, which was open as well. An elderly-ish woman got out of the car and started to pull the gas handle and cord around her car to fill up…on the opposite side from the pump. Needless to say, it was a stretch and there was pulling and frustration involved on her end.

There was frustration on my end too. First, I was mad at the woman for not pulling through. How dare she impede my errand-running time and cause this minor inconvenience. How dare she not know on which side her gas tank entry is located? Doesn’t she know it’s the holiday? Doesn’t she know we are all busy and in a hurry!? To get nowhere!?

As I started to fume in my very comfortable and warm seat, the car behind me sped around me, shouted some derogatory word from his car to the woman who had a shocked and then upset face back as the crusading car whipped around us both and into the open pump. A middle aged man jumped out and started filling his car, all while using exaggerated motions as if to emphasize his frustration to the woman and everyone in the various ant-like lines.

As I watched this somewhat odd situation unfold I found myself first feeling self-righteous as my anger was being vindicated vicariously, and then horrified at myself as I watched the older woman ahead of me struggle to read the gas pump. Adjusting her shaded lenses, prescription I’m guessing, several times. She slowly made her selections and then went through a grueling process of paying via card with a machine that was not responding to what appeared to be her verbal, out-loud readings.

That’s when it hit. One, I was being insane. I was mad at this woman ahead of me for what reason? For being old? For being slower than I? Hadn’t I just come from my own eye doctor appointment where I was told I needed to be ready for reading glasses on top of my own contacts? Hadn’t I just had an internal conversation with myself in the car?

“Tim, you’re getting old. Time to get prepared buddy.”

It’s a regular pep talk I’ve had with myself since age 40. Wait, no 30, I am gay after all and death starts at 30.

Two, Was I mad at the woman driver? myself? Was I now mad at the male driver with his mean remarks and haughty attitude? Or was I just mad at age. How it slows us down, humbles us in sometimes embarrasing ways, or even takes an awareness away from us that we had only a few years earlier. It’s like slowly forgetting a favorite family recipe we make every week. Each time the memory of how to make the dish gets a little thinner, and we just hold on to the memory of the dish instead while those who have to eat it suffer in silence.

Third, and this is the big one. I don’t want to be old here. I mean in this place. Inner-suburbia which we all tell ourselves is ‘urban’ but we all know it’s not true. The real suburbs would be twice as bad as this. Do I want to be old in a place where I have to drive everywhere, attempting to avoid old men on bikes who are driving on roads not built for bikes? Also, why is it always old white men doing this? That’s a whole other post.

No, I want to be old in one of two places. A rural place, with a warm home, friends not too far away, with a warm kitchen and a warm room with a pretty view that includes trees. Maybe a garden that’s just small enough I can maintain it myself.

Another option - being in a completely urban setting. I’m talking tall building with a doorman. Someone to park my car and bring it around whenever I call down to ask for it. Plenty of decent takeout restaurants where I can meet my friends if we want to sit down, early of course, and have a meal. Where the theater and plays are nearby without the current 30-45 minute drive from my ‘urban’ setting to the actual downtown.

I have no idea which of these two options is ahead in my future. What I do know is that I’m going to try to start looking at my world and the people in it with kinder eyes, even if I’m in a fabricated hurry. And maybe with better glasses.