Today I bought Pat's Sweet Italian sausages for dinner. Sausage: pork and goodies all rolled into one. I was there when he first started making them. Back in the day. When the Market was a "small" market. At the corner of Main and Bridge. Pat would grind my ground beef right IN FRONT OF MY FACE! I miss the place. I never minded waiting for Pat- he moves at a snail's pace. I would pick stuff out of the cooler that I didn't need while I waited- shit like maple creme and chocolate milk. Who needs that? But his ground beef was the freshest, wrapped in white paper like the "olden" days. The new Market doesn't do that and it tastes like the Styrofoam they serve it on, for jeezum sake.
I saw Pat the other day at the Jonesville Post Office. He rolled out the door and spoke sincerely to another elderly friend. I don't know how old he is but he's hunched and backed and moves with deliberation. He had on his Richmond Market hat and fleece vest and probably a pair of fleeced lined khakis but I failed to take note. I saw his skin colored Mercury and was reminded of my Grandparent's Oldsmobile. It all seemed so fitting- a reliable old American car for a reliable old American.
I love seeing, to this day, Pat's hunched back stacking his meats to display at the Market. I'm not sure what he feels/thinks about the "new" place. He doesn't nearly have the same contact with his customers and I'm certain he's not dealing with the same custom orders he had at the old Corner Market. But maybe he likes the slower pace. The one thing I have noticed, however, is that he still whistles while he works.
He whistles ALL THE TIME! It's just a whistle- no specific tune. I mean, who does this anymore? Do you know anyone who whistles ALL THE TIME? It's amazing. AND he moves SOOO slowly!! Who does this anymore?? Do you know anyone who moves slowly ALL THE TIME?
I soooooo want to be Pat the butcher. I want to move slowly. I want to whistle while I work. Did I mention I want to move slowly?
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I'm in the car. A LOT! Driving them (shutter) anywhere they want to go. Going from Point A to Point B and everyone tells me I should soak it up because some day they won't want to be with me and I'm all, like, they don't WANT to be with me right now- they want to get to POINT B. Eeegads. Let's slow it down people!
The only time I'm walking slowly (or moving deliberately) is when I'm walking in the woods with Paul Bunyan and then it's all about stopping to look at drainage options, single track trail options, best trees for tree house options, and how to build a bridge over said creek. Which is all fine and dandy- really it is. Because if this is the only time I'm moving at Pat's pace then I'll take it. I'll take it! BRING ME TO THE WOODS ANYDAY! I LOVE THE WOODS!
Some day I'll be old too- I can't ever picture me moving that slowly or that hunched over- but maybe I will. Maybe I'll sit still to have one complete mug of tea. Maybe I'll be able to listen to what my kids really really need. Maybe I'll be able to listen to what I really really need. In the meantime, I'll listen to this, because it makes sense to me, especially when they sing:
And I'll walk slow, I'll walk slow
Take my hand, help me on my way.
And I'll walk slow, I'll walk slow
Take my hand, I'll be on my way.
You'll help me walk slow- won't you??
