Before I launch into my story of this homely looking individual, let me provide some background information. NOTE: Ironic that homeless people look homely.
For five days a week, my day job requires me to be a Mike Rowe wannabe.
Job title: Fire Extinguisher Technician
Employer: Moore Fire Equipment
Location: The ghetto (Hood would also be acceptable)
Usually, when explaining my job to an interested party, I receive a plethora of confused looks and follow-up questions. When I said that I'm a Mike Rowe wannabe, I meant it. This is because, depending on the day, my work can take me to places I've never been before. Places like this for example:
I work at the family business started by my grandfather. We service, inspect, and sell fire extinguishers for both commercial and private facilities. We also install fire suppression systems in restaurant kitchens. If you ever want to know how clean a restaurant's kitchen is, I'm the guy to ask. (Hint- Don't eat Chinese!) Regardless of where I am on a given day, the work usually incorporates some kind of back-breaking labor. I swear I haven't had smooth or clean hands in over a year. When the job doesn't take us on the road, you can find us working in our shop (located in the gut of Albany. AKA The ghetto).
It goes without saying that the business is located in a rough patch of the city. There have been shootings down the street, stabbings around the block, vandalism on vacant buildings (to which there are several), and enough littering to overwork a Wall-E machine. Case in point, just a few weeks ago, two of our car windows were shot out by BB's:
Check around the nearest corner, and chances are you'll find at least one transient wanderer; most making you extremely uncomfortable at the slightest bit of eye contact. Now to my story:
My morning started just like any other:
-Got to work around 8
-Made Coffee
-Opened garage door to vent the humid shop air out into the wild
-Set up workbench
-Watched a homeless man do jumping jacks-----Hold on, what?
Before the Susanne Summers workout session began, I made a key flaw that drew this man's attention: I made eye contact. All of a sudden, his direction of travel shifted from the sidewalk to our shop's driveway. He then told me to watch what he was doing. Now... inside my head I had already begun saying a "Hail Mary" while I simultaneously scanned the area for the most accessible device to use as a weapon.
Instead of attacking me, the homeless man (dressed in a pink Yankee's jersey nonetheless) began doing jumping jacks in our driveway. He mumbled for the most part but some of what he said was clearly audible:
"This is how you to it bro. This is how it's done. I do this everyday."
Not knowing what to say, my brain just spit out, "Oh. What are you doing, exactly?"
Still flailing his arms and legs about, he replied, "I'm just living life. I do this everyday. I jog in place five miles everyday. This is living. This is the life."
That's right. He jogs five miles a day... in place. So....... he's pretty much a human treadmill. The poor man's treadmill, if you will.
After advising me on living life to the fullest, he proceeded to meander closer to me. The uncomfortable feeling inside of me increased at this point. Instead of approaching me directly, he veered off to some nearby pine bushes. "This is what it's all about," he said. He then took a branch in his hand and breathed in heavy through his nose. Now, I could be wrong, but what I think he was trying to convey was that you have to stop and smell the roses. Only, with no rose bushes located anywhere on the block, he decided a plain pine bush would suffice. However odd his gesture was, his message was clear. A few more lines of dialogue were spoken. He filled me in on how he doesn't understand why people stare at him while he does this all day long. Hmm... I didn't really have an answer for that one.
Eventually he sauntered off never to be seen again. As I went back to work, all I could think about was his odd display of wisdom. "Stop and smell the roses", I thought. Wise words to live by. In today's world, we're all moving a thousand miles an hour to get as much done as we can. In our cars... on the street.... at our jobs... it seems we're always in a hurry. The bottom line: Instead of running all over the place, why not jog right where we stand? We might notice a thing or two about our surroundings that we never took in before... Some new appreciation for life that wasn't there before. Sometimes, we need to take time to stop and smell the roses. That's the lesson I learned from my homeless fortune cookie of a friend.
(Side note: After he left I swiftly closed the garage door to avoid any more contact)
:)
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