Wrote down some goals for today: need to clean up some clutter and get it ready to have shredded, and want to move some furniture to make way for a different filing cabinet in my den.
At 10:44, I decide to treat myself to breakfast at Mickey D's. Haven't planned my schedule enough to know when I'm going to the gym, but I decide to go to Mickey D's. I throw on something and get over there, the person in front of me finishes ordering, it's 10:55, and I'm just about to order my hash browns and coffee when this little boy comes up to the cashier. He's probably 12 or 13.
"Um, there's only four sandwiches in here. I ordered two of them and there's only four sandwiches in here." The cashier tells him that he's ordered two of the 2 for $3 specials, and that's why he has four sandwiches. "But I ordered two of them and there's only four sandwiches here." They went back and forth for about a minute. Normally I don't intrude in these things, but I was concerned I wouldn't be able to order hash browns after 11 am, so I said to him, very slowly, "Two and two more is four."
He left, but I don't know if he got it, was just embarrassed, or decided majority rules. At first I thought it was cute, but the more I thought about it, the more disturbing it became. Here's a kid who has money enough to buy breakfast and who can presumably make out a 2 and a 3 on a sign. We don't know if he can read or not because we all know you don't have to be able to read to order from the McDonald's menu. What's apparent is that he could not understand what he was reading enough to realize that the 2 referred to the number of sandwiches in the special and that the 3 referred to the price. He also apparently lacked the analytical skills to count his money or his change and figure out how much he'd spent, then determine what the numbers 2 and 3 referred to. Given his small size, I'm going to assume that he was with at least one other friend, and none of them could make these connections, either.
It's disturbing to think that our teenaged kids can't read or understand. It's even more disturbing to think that this is a situation that exists here in Harlem, but that I'm unlikely to find south of 96th Street. It's also disturbing to consider that, while some of our Harlem kids can't read or comprehend, I go to Costa Rica and talk to a typical Costa Rican teen whose pastime is exploiting the weaknesses in the latest Windows OS, or trying to explain to the adults what it is he likes about studying physics.
I would make a comment about how we're creating a generation that will be condemned to be stagehands at the periphery of the world stage -- except that many of them may not live that long because they'll be dead from their constant diet of fast food.
I'm beginning to accept the fact that people, usually crazy people, often stop me on the street and start talking to me. It's like I'm a crazy person magnet or something. It's been that way as long as I can remember. Even if I'm in a group of people, the crazy person will come right up to me and start talking to me like they know me. I've taken to wearing headphones on the street to try to create an impression of unavailability, but this doesn't seem to deter them in the least. So I'm coming back from Mickey D's, feeling guilty about the hash browns I'm gonna eat and wondering why the social response to our kids' poor education and eating will be reactive rather than proactive. I'm lost in thought, and this lady passes me. I notice she has a lot of stuff on her shirt, but I'm not really paying attention.
Next thing I know, she doubles back, and starts telling me about her weekend in Philly. Seems she went to Philly for the 4th and a couple of white guys got into a fight which the cops had to break up. There was more: she was giving me history and who the players were and stuff, but a) I didn't care, and b) my coffee was in the bag in my hand, so I just kept nodding and trying to walk off. She kept talking. I think she was talking about a conspiracy theory -- the stuff on her shirt was a bunch of political buttons (Does she put them on every day? Why?) I did manage to get away, to wish her a nice day, and tell her I was glad she enjoyed her trip. Maybe one day I'll get to the point where I'm aware that God makes me available for people like that because they have a need to share with someone who at least pretends to listen. Or maybe one day I'll get to the point where I actually listen and realize that God makes people like that available, not for me to minister to them, but for them to minister to me. Who knows -- I could have been entertaining an angel, unaware....
I'ma finish watching Lockup, maybe for another hour, finish my coffee, and then I'm going to get busy putting some order into my house. Maybe I'll go to the gym, maybe not. Haven't decided on that one yet.
2:53 pm - I thought it was 3:53. Seems I've accomplished the goals I set for the day, though they weren't complete and my house is a mess. But I got the file cabinets moved and got a lot of stuff ready to throw shred. I think I'm going to go to the gym now....
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