What we live inside of…

We each have our daily experiences. In the short story, the author documents a slice of life, or a moment in time. Both the ordinary and extraordinary are explored –whatever the writer finds interesting and/or mundane can be told. I share the following experience because within each day, I find that there is an opportunity to learn, to discover, to understand something else, someone else…or myself.

When I leave my bubble (Mount Shasta) and travel even a short distance away, I get to see outside of the familiar. I carry my beliefs with me…but if I stay open, if I look and listen, I hear (and sense) all sorts of things.

Another small mountain town one hour to the east of where I live, is surrounded by the abundant beauty of natural wonders. There lies a beautiful mountain lake, an astonishing waterfall and vistas that take the breath away. And yet, according to the liberal woman behind the desk at the Chamber of Commerce, the local citizens’ views of the world are ingrown and staunch.

I inquired “What is special and worth seeing (aside from the astonishing waterfall and beautiful mountain lake).
She said “Not very much.”

She moved here from Hawaii about ten months ago. She lived in Hawaii for forty years. She farmed the land, grew organic vegetables, and sold them to the local restaurants. The high cost of living had finally pushed her out. She has a sister here, so it seemed the obvious choice of where to go. She misses her organic garden, a broader perspective and environmental awareness.

“Is there somewhere you would recommend to eat?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” she said. Then added, “At least you have a health food store in Mount Shasta!”

And, yes we do.

As I headed for the door, she tossed me a final possibility “There is the Stand By Me bridge…the one made famous by the film Stand By Me.

But she had no idea where it actually was.

I left there to go to a neighboring town about ten miles away where I remembered having a good sandwich several years ago. A sign on the door read “if the lights are on, we’re open”…but no one was there even with all of the lights on. I was directed to the local hotel that “serves a good lunch” said a woman in the parking lot who also tried the door of the café to find it wasn’t open.

The hotel is an old building from perhaps Gold Rush days. I walked into what I thought was the entrance and it turned out to be the bar. Three men’s heads turned as I walked in. Obviously not from here, was written all over their faces. The bartender directed me to the café. The waitress was dressed up in a skirt and heels and her hair wrapped in a do from another time. She was pleasant and noticing you’re not from here, are you.

I ordered, what else, cheese burger with fries. It was obvious sandwiches and burgers were their specialties. The locals came in as I sat eating my lunch, not so inconspicuously, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with too many customers. Slightly eavesdropping, the conversations were the daily ones that people have with family and friends that you see all the time. And, of course, there were the sideways looks at me.

After I paid my tab, I headed to the restroom “First door to the left,” the waitress directed.

“Nope, not that one,” someone from a table shouted at me.

I proceed to the second door to the left.

“Not that one,” someone from another table shouted at me.

Third door to the left…ah the prize. Isn’t it always the third whatever that is the magic door, key, word.

I slipped out the back of the hotel and headed to their astonishing waterfalls. There’s no question about the popularity of this place which boasts a campground and State Park. Love of nature brings people from all over here. We have that in common. Perhaps that’s a good start, finding out what we have in common with those who we don’t agree with politically or otherwise.

What do you think?

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wakeupprincess

I am a writer, a seeker, a discoverer, a poet, a painter, a woman with something to say about a variety of topics. Some topics are difficult but they are real. Some are sheer silliness.

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