Last
week I was sitting again from 10:00 AM until 5:00 PM in one of the Malls trying
to sell raffle tickets for my hunting and fishing club.
Selling
tickets is a waiting game—waiting for somebody to stop and buy one. It reminded
me very much of the times when I sit in my deer-stand waiting for a deer to
come by. Both activities can be quite boring. From my deer-stand I don’t see
much most of the time, perhaps a coyote or two and the odd bird. The highlight
is the moment when I see a deer and get a chance to shoot at it. Should I be
successful then that’s it. The wait is over. Time to pack up.
Not
so in the Mall. I get a thrill every time somebody stops and buys a ticket. But
that’s not where it ends. Contrary to my deer-stand, where not much happens the
majority of time, the Mall is a busy place.
Shoppers
as well as non-shoppers walk by my desk (deer-stand) all day long. And I watch
them. As I watch, my thoughts take me back to a different time and place—to the
time when I was young.
We
took pride in our appearance. We wore nice, clean clothes. We polished our shoes.
We had descent hair styles. (Forget about the way the Rolling Stones and some
of the other bands in those days looked!). I am disappointed how our youth and
some older people walk around. Ill-fitting clothing, holes in their pants; some
don’t even look clean. Purple, blue, and green hair; unkempt hair and ridicules
hairstyles. Even though it is still winter outside, some walk around in
flip-flops on their feet; some were sneakers without socks; some sneakers are
filthy with laces untied. Shirts not tucked in; mismatched colors, and more.
However,
I have to admit that my disappointed and judgmental feelings disappeared when
one of them stopped for a little chat and actually bought a raffle ticket.
I
guess, these are just different times and as long as we all get along it doesn’t
really matter how we look and what we wear, as long as it isn’t a bomb strapped
around our bodies (Sorry, couldn’t help myself. Had to sneak that one in).
Perhaps young people are more tolerant than us old fogies and that is a good
thing.
There
is hope after all.
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