If you're fortunate enough to have a job, no doubt you look forward to lunch like a first grader looks forward to recess. It seems like so many people spend their lunches during the week in airless lunchrooms, running errands or in fast food lines. I would rather find some nature and spend my lunch time there. Not much nature left, but I've located a couple of places within 5-10 minutes by bike (not motor, pedal- more on that some other time). One thing I look for is a river. Dragon flies, birds, an occasional heavy metal laden fish, a little white water provided by a protruding tire or shopping cart. Peace. Today, lunch was spent at the Attleboro (Ma.) River Park. The L.G Balfour Co. used to be on this spot and I worked there when I was in high school. The red brick buildings on the rivers' edge were part of their complex. Balfour made class rings, trophies, and diplomas among other things. The river wasn't exactly pristine back then. I rememember men in hip waders scraping the bottom of it for rings that fell out of windows since the building was right on the river. Rumor has it that more than a few flew out on purpose, disgruntled employees "stickin' it to the man." On my favorite bench I indulged in a bag of Doritos and an organic carrot (a perfect example of the internal struggle we fight between good and evil, today they fought to a draw), closed my eyes and enjoyed the sun. You may be wondering about that expanse of concrete. That's skating pond that I've been told gets filled with water and frozen for skating. Anyway, my plan is to bring a blanket and place it under the tree on the little hill a few feet from my bench. A couple of weeks ago a guy was playing guitar (quite well) under that tree on a beautiful day. It was very hard to return to the job I'm fortunate to have.
2 comments:
Sounds like a slice of heaven, jeff...now what would your daughter Olivia say about your little snack??? L.
I enjoyed your blog about lunchtime. Just yesterday I had lunch myself. It came from the canteen truck at the Logan airport Limo pool. A chicken parmasan sandwich made fresh just last week and a cream soda. I was stuck waiting for a late flight from ft. Lauderdale. Unfortunately there isn’t much to do while waiting. No nature or wildlife to observe save a few grungy seagulls. However it is most fascinating to watch the amazing collection of limo drivers. Mostly overweight and unshaven, some limping. Many divorced and estranged from their children. But the stereotype doesn’t end there. From the dandruff besprinkled shoulders to the spotted ties and stained shirts, there are few who miss the standard. Occasionally there will be a rookie who shows up with polished shoes and a suit that fits properly. One who believes that attitude and hygiene still matter. They never last though. Usually within five or ten years they have blended in with the group and are no longer distinguishable.
I guess the exception is the middle easterners. They take their vocation very seriously, many of them arriving at sunrise so they can face east while praying and thanking Allah for the blessing of being a chauffer. They are a tight group often separating themselves from the rest and meeting together behind the building and barely speaking in a whisper so as not to disturb anyone. I believe they are speaking in either Arabic or Farsi. I wish I could understood their language, they have a favorite joke that must be very funny. The punch line kind of sounds like the English word boom and after telling it many of them will be doubled over in laughter. Anyway, keep the blogs coming. M
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