“They have so much time, these old folks. They stroll their grocery carts down the middle of the narrow aisle in the frozen food section looking for nothing in particular. These old folks wait to locate their purse or wallet only after the checker has totaled and bagged their three items—like it’s a big surprise they will need to pay.
No one in line cares that their son Billy is visiting from Portland and will stay through the weekend.
Maybe if I invade their personal space a bit more, they will mosey on.
That was me right behind them when I was 33 years of age. I was in a hurry to do a lot of important things.
Now, 40 years later, I’m in the same frozen food section looking for…what was it again? And what did I do with that grocery list?“