A Little G in a Big D

Here’s an entry that’s been sitting in the queue — read: my cluttered desktop — for like two months. Time to post.

**

I love people. I really do. I wouldn’t be journalist if that were not the case. But once in a while, there come these moments when communication — even at the most basic level — breaks down. I’m left to wonder, “Who the hell *are* all these people around me? Has the world gone mad!?”

… “I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!” …

Here’s one that comes to mind …

I was out of food. I went to the groceries. I did my shopping, paid for my goods and started to head out the door. Mission accomplished, right? Not quite …

On my way out, I’m walking a dozen or so feet behind a trio of elderly people — two old men and an old woman. They were heading — snail’s pace, of course — to a nearby bench, which I swear was put in the store just for old folks, as they are the only people I see using it.

I come up closer to the group and notice one of the old men has a candy wrapper (Snickers) stuck to the back of his pants. My first thought was, “Now that’s a odd place to keep that!,” but my actual brain took over and stated, “You idiot … he obviously doesn’t know it’s there. Be a nice and tell him.”

Which is exactly what I did. Here’s the teleplay, and God’s honest truth it (pretty much) went this way …

ME: Uhh, excuse me, sir?

OLD MAN 1: Eh?

OLD WOMAN: What’s going on?

OM1: Eh? What do you want?

ME: Uhmm, well, you, uhh, have something on your pants.

OM1: [leans in, speaks up] What’s that now?

OW: What does he want, Albert?

ME: [pointing down at the errant wrapper] There’s a Snickers wrapper on your pants … ?

OM1: What’s going on with what? [starts turning around to look at his posterior]

OW: Albert, what did he do to your pants?

OM1: [clearly getting belligerently befuddled] What is this?? What did you do?

[at this point, Old Man #2 gets up from the bench -- he beat them to it -- and starts coming our direction]

ME: No, I, uhh, I didn’t do it. I was just, uhmm, trying to tell y…

OM2: What’s going on over here? What’s this man done to you, Albert?

OW: He’s put chocolate on his pants!

ME: No, I, uh!

OM1: [pulling wrapper off pants] Why would you do this to me?

OM2: [oblivious to OW's previous statement] Albert, there’s chocolate on your pants!

ME: I didn’t, uhh, I just saw this and was trying to tell you.

OM1: [looking around in a sort of daze] This isn’t right, this isn’t right …

OW: [staring at me] Why would you do that!?

[This all took place in a matter of like 90 seconds, at the most. In that time, another finished customer was coming up behind us. I assume she saw the whole thing, as she sort of jumped in and, thankfully, saved the day. I could see a manager peaking out over the little customer service counter. I was sure some serious sh*t was about to go down. You have to be careful with old people ... sure, they look all frail and stuff, but I wouldn't want one raging on me]

STRANGER: Sir, this gentleman didn’t put that wrapper on you. I think he just saw it and was trying to be polite and tell you.

OW: What’s that now?

OM2: [still oblivious, but obviously amused] Why is there chocolate on your pants, Albert? It’s everywhere!

ME: That’s right, I, just, uhh …

OM1: Come again?

STR: [pretty much yelling] HE DIDN’T PUT THE CANDY ON YOU. HE WAS JUST TELLING YOU ABOUT IT.

OM1: Who put the candy on me?

STR & ME: [in chorus] WE DON’T KNOW.

OW: Well this is quite the mystery. Albert, did you sit in it? I think that’s it …

[stranger smiles at me, them, pushes cart off to parking lot]

OM1: [calm restored] Well, thanks for telling me, young man. I need to be more careful where I sit!

ME: [tired, spent, just nods and smiles ... starts pulling away]

OM2: I think you’ve sat in chocolate, Albert!

OW: It looks that way

[all three laugh, head back to bench. Cue campy closing theme song]

**

I am never going outside again.

Wow … I’m way behind on a lot of this stuff. I’ve been meaning to post for some time now — having a decent amount of “content” to share — but every time I’ve sat in front of this very computer … well, the spirit was willing, but the flesh (specifically brain and fingers) was weak.

My apologies …

This is admittedly old; I don’t doubt a number of you have already seen this. Still, I figure it’s worth sharing again.

Click on the above photo or here to launch a gallery of Tribune photojournalists’ favorite images from 2006. It’s a nice little package. Fairly similar to what we did for 2005 — in having those little, personalized notes by each of us — but this year we edited down A LOT. Makes for a better read, I think.

What makes this (err, last) year’s gallery so special is that two of our staffers — Parker Eshelman and Nick King — weren’t even at the Trib for more than a few months. The former started in late fall, and the latter early winter. Suffice to say, these two chaps hit the ground running; day-in, day-out, they produce some really wonderful, compelling work.

It’s definitely been impressive to me, if not a little intimidating. I won’t deny that getting regularly “schooled” (or “smoked,” if you prefer) by the new guys has contributed a little (along with a LOT of other stuff) to the little funk I’ve been in the past few months.

I’m trying to snap out of it. I know posting more here will help. Let’s consider that a little charge, eh?

Until the next time, and thanks for looking.

- g -