The Hair Stylist (12.11.2004)

Saturday morning dawns cold and wet.  The work week is over and it is time to kick back for a couple of days.  No furniture program today since Pat did not call me yesterday.  I am on my way to Shoppers Food Store at 8:00am to do the weekly grocery shopping.  A cold light drizzle falls as I speed along Great Seneca Highway.  Determined runners brave the wet weather and the sting of the rain drops as they jog on the sidewalks beside the highway.     The black lady who is jogging is wearing a brilliant yellow jacket – it catches the eye.  Jazz of the bluesy and gospel kind plays on the radio from the local college PBS station….

The day is just beginning and it promises to be a busy one.  The kids have choir practice and Angela sings at the 5:00 pm mass.  Christmas cards need to be worked on, and the house needs to be cleaned.

At the Hair Cuttery, the oriental woman cutting my hair keeps up a chatter as I stare blindly into the mirror – I cannot see without my glasses.  It seems that she likes coffee very much.   The rather one-sided conversation turns to the days of the week that she works.  She takes Tuesdays and Wednesday’s off and works the weekends.  Her work (and that of the other stylists with Hair Cuttery) is on a contractual basis.  That probably means that they do not get any benefits.  She used to work on “Electronics”.  It seems she worked at HNS assembling DIRECTV settop boxes for a short stretch.   Her bosses were slave-drivers and the place was a sweat shop, she informs me.  I am not surprised.  I now empathize with the woman.  Here is another life story unfolding.

I drive to Michaels to pick up some picture frames.  At the check-out counter, the woman in front of me drops everything from her bag on the floor by mistake and goes “s–t”.  She quickly realizes where she is, and apologizes.  I am smiling…

At Lowes, where I stopped to pick up some picture hangers, the small dog (looks like a Pomeranian) is in the car parked next to mine and is barking excitedly as it vigorously wags its tail.  I am smiling, and so is the Indian couple who just exited their car….

The radio station has now shifted to funk and disco.  “Let’s get on the train and ride..” says the DJ as he takes calls from listeners.

Don’t know where all this smiling is coming from.  This is the moment, this is the now, this is the here!  Lets get this show on the road.  Party on dude!!

kuria

Postscript – I wrote this in 2004 when I was helping out on Saturdays with the furniture program at the church.  We would pick up furniture from the houses of people who were giving it away, and deliver furniture to the houses of people in need.  There was some heavy lifting involved.  I was told that the truck used for this purpose is still with he church, but that it is  in very bad shape.  This was also well before I discovered my CAD.

The fisherman

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K. Joseph

I am an engineer by training. I am exploring new horizons after having spent many years in the Industry. My interests are varied and I tend to write about what is on my mind at any particular moment in time.

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