Read below or listen here: http://www.jimreedbooks.com/mp3/hidinginplainsight.mp3
Ever notice that what is in plain sight, directly in the line of view, is mostly discounted or ignored?
We writers and literary types often use our primary energies to record the tiny things that slip away from just about everybody else. This means that we are far more directionless that the average high-achievers. We focus on the trickling data that will fade away if not documented, afraid that not enough attention is being paid.
We recognize that Activities of Daily Living can get in the way of actual observation and appreciation.
It’s just too complicated and abstract to explain, so I’ll give you a few examples from my Red Clay Diary…things I notice but are of no importance to anyone else.
Friday, 7:30pm, Dodiyo’s Restaurant: Liz and I are enjoying each other’s company on our 34th wedding anniversary date. In the partially-curtained private dining area a few feet away, a young woman has her back to me so that I have no idea whether she has a face. But her flowing brown hair ebbs and flows across her neck in a universally unconscious manner, throwing the light from high ceiling bulbs back at me.
Saturday, 1pm, Reed Books/The Museum of Fond Memories: A young customer is on her knees before the lower-shelved collection of new and original Nancy Drew mysteries. She is so excited to find them that she sees nothing else. Her focus is total and her joy is palpable. She leaves happy and satisfied with two Nancy books.
Tuesday, 11am, Reed Books: Antiques dealer John Nixon delivers my latest purchase, a genuine, real-life old-fashioned telephone switchboard complete with photograph of Lily Tomlin sitting before it, ringie-ding-dinging it. The chaos of moving dozens of items aside to accommodate the instrument causes some customers amusement, others consternation. Some smile, one leaves in a huff, probably feeling ignored. My thrill of acquisition has cost me one customer, gained me another. Can’t please everybody…
Sunday, 2pm, Aldis on Green Springs Highway: I’m pulling a shopping cart from its parking lot queue, veering around several women who are chatting and trying in turn to veer around me. We’re trying not to run into each other. One laughs, says, “Looks like we’re dancing!” I laugh and say, “OK–I’m ready!” We both appreciate the moment and go our separate ways.
Sunday, High Noon: I’m standing on the street in the drizzle, holding a faltering red Dollar Tree umbrella while a Triple-A service guy tries to diagnose my dead battery. He pronounces it a disabled Lazarus, I marvel at how he can process my American Express card on the spot, remove and replace the battery and drive away as my momentary hero, all within a matter of minutes. I appreciate his dedication and wonder whether customers at my shop ever appreciate my work ethic. Why should they?
Friday, 7:30pm, Dodiyo’s: Liz and I decide to toss our imaginary Bucket List and replace it with a Chuck-It List, things we’ve enjoyed but now need to pass on to others. We don’t get very far, since we have so much amazing stuff. Guess the kids will have to decide what to do with it after…
Sunday, near 5pm: Can’t keep the words and images and ideas from dribbling onto the keyboard. The act of writing in my Red Clay Diary—writing anything in my Red Clay Diary—is a puzzle and a pleasure. Hope you find thrills in something simple today, too
(c) 2012 A.D. by Jim Reed