Optimists are an odd bunch. They are the proverbial glass-half-full crowd
that is always smiling.
My lengthy life has not been a
bed of nails, but I don’t wear a perpetual stupid grin, either.
For some reason that I cannot
figure out, optimists are perpetually happy.
December 26th, I left
the homestead to get some bread and Swiss cheese to go along with my
honey-glazed ham, previously enjoyed on December 25th.
My local Tallmart was both nearby
and chock full of shoppers agog for the holiday leftovers. Although no geriatrics were wielding canes or
bags full of cat food at one another, a sort of spirit was in the air,
nonetheless.
People loudly yakking on their
cell phones to friends who were likely still abed, or shopping with equal verve
elsewhere, were attempting to coordinate the best way to capitalize on
post-holiday bargains. The scene was
wild.
They intentionally blocked aisle
ways to keep competitor shoppers away from the potential remaining goodies on
the nearly barren shelves.
I watched captivated as frumpy
65+-year old women wearing Spandex, and hobo-like sweatshirts, systematically
pick over the dregs.
Wrapping paper, ribbon, pre-tied
bows, tree ornaments, plastic candy canes, and tree skirts with that glitter
that winds up all over the carpet and cat, were making their way to homes in
preparation for next year’s display.
 |
| Kwanzaa depiction |
Clearly these shoppers have lots
of spirit and hope. Hope that they live
another eleven months to be able to unpack and set up new displays consisting of
this post-Christmas loot. Perhaps this
is just a timely Kwanzaa shopping spree.
I didn’t know.
These people are the ultimate in
optimists.
Not saying I’m overly sickly, but
I don’t buy green bananas just in case I don’t live to see them ripen.
I also buy annual calendars in
July because they are six months in length, and they are really
inexpensive. But I digress.
What I was witnessing was a
ritual that occurs annually across America
I admire folks who want to get a
bargain. I also applaud people who have
the room to store all that wrapping paper, and those giant wire reindeer with
miniature lights inside their gullets.
My house is small – my storage shed is just slightly larger enough to
squeeze a wallet inside.
In any case, being a pessimist
may not be as bad as it sounds.
Now off to figure out a personal
New Year’s resolution.
