No Gift Like the Present

There’s No Gift Like the Present

I know the expression goes:  “There’s no time like the present.”  But I think a corollary should be:  “There’s no gift like the present.”  I would like to put on point-toed shoes and kick the Idea of Multi-tasking in the shins.  This ridiculous concept has deteriorated our attention spans in the name of progress while at the same time it has eroded our ability to relate to the person before us.  We’re no longer human beings.  We pride ourselves on being human doings.  Therefore, if we are what we do, the more we do, the more we are, right?  Or that is at least the logical flow of this trend.

You see it in board meetings and seminars:  people are not bringing their A-game to the meeting because they are distracted.  They are not fully engaged in what is happening around the table because they can’t be.  They have a hand-held device on their lap and are managing some other piece of life at the same time.  You can’t give 100 percent twice.  So you are giving either the meeting or the hand-held issue a 50/50 …. But more likely a 40/60 or 30/70.  Don’t argue with me.  It’s a math issue and numbers don’t lie.

You also see this distraction on our highways and at traffic lights.  Really, the worst marriage is when Car A has the Texter in it, and Car B has the Road Rager in it.  Then you’ve got two people who aren’t any closer to being in the reality that the other person is.  This reason alone makes me take my proverbial hat off to Traffic Police:  they have to sort out these selfish people after the wreck happens.  Both the Texter and the Road Rager have a self-centered problem.  They each think that their priority is more important than anyone else’s.  The Texter thinks:  “Hey I just have to check and see who this is.”  They look down for a second and slam!   The Road Rager thinks:  “I have to get where I am going and these idiots around me are in my way.”  People are seen as obstacles to their progress.  They take risks to prove a point.

 

Here’s a perfect (and recent) example:  On one of our main routes, I had a Road Rager in a jeep pressing right up against my rear bumper.  To any way of thinking, this was unjustified.  Point A:  It was dangerous for him to put his frustration forth like this and create an accident-ready environment.  Point B:  Ask my MOTHER – I do not drive slowly!  In no way was I slowing HIM down unless he mistook it for the Indy 500.  This guy – well, at least we could say:  Jerk – was riding up the back side of my car, then he cut out and around and up in front of me.  Then he applied his brakes.  Are you kidding me, buddy?  Had I known that I could call his license plate in, I would have done it right there and then…. using my hand-held device because my issue was more important than, well, the person in the car next to me as I would drift into their lane.  You see my point.

All of these things in our culture – our handheld devices, our self-centered philosophies, our disconnectedness from the community we need to nurture around us – work against civilization.  But I would propose to you that for each of us there are moments, golden opportunities, for break-through.  And I love it when it happens, when I recognize it for what it is, and when I am the more noble person I want to be 100% of the time.

I was standing askance from the counter at the hotel where you make your own waffles.  If there is anything I like more than the smell of malt waffles in a great hotel lobby, I can’t think of what it would be at this moment.

 

There were two waffle irons to work with.  The one on the left was being attended by a fireman (I read his tee-shirt) for his little son.  The one on the right was empty and being stared at by this guy.  Well, I hung back a bit and watched to see what the hold-up was.  The guy on the right walked away.  Then he came back and stared some more.  I figured the machine on the right was broken.  I missed the cue initially.  I stepped to the center batter machine and filled a plastic cup with batter.  The left side machine now free, I poured the batter on the waffle grill, closed the lid and flipped it so the two minute timer would activate.  The man at my right was still staring.  Then I realized it:  he had never seen this before and did not know how to proceed.

I asked if he needed help.  He humbly replied, “Yes.”  And I heard an ever-so-slight French Canadian accent.  Ahhhh…. Now I know.  I talked him through the process in simple English.  He got it, and thanked me very graciously.  I turned to put strawberries and walnut topping and whipped cream on the waffle that waited for my renewed attention.  I could care less that it wasn’t piping hot.  Under other circumstances, I’d be more than happy to put a slab of black raspberry ice cream into a waffle, so temperature was of no consequence to me.  But something in my heart felt warmer.  I made the world a better place with a waffle iron.

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