By John R. Greenwood
I tried a new lunch time activity today. I found a quiet out of the way room buried in the middle of the distribution plant where I work. I brought my IPad to work and when everyone else had finished their lunch and returned to the office I grabbed my lunch, my IPad, a cold milk, and I headed off to that spot where I hoped to enjoy thirty minutes of solitude. My plan was to spend the time doing just what I am right here--writing. My hope is that the self-imposed time out will help to recharge my battery and at the same time give me the opportunity to stretch my writing muscles. I have now been here for a solid six minutes and no one has found me. When and if they do I may have to pull up stakes and head off deeper into the abyss of pallets and storage spaces to find more secluded refuge. For now these few minutes of seclusion are bordering on the same teenage high you experienced the first time you're allowed to take the family car to the store by yourself. As I say that, I hear footsteps headed toward me. Ten minutes was quite a long time to sit undiscovered in the middle of a busy warehouse. I'm actually surprised it lasted that long. As I turn to see who it is behind me I am excited to see it is someone from my childhood. A coworker a few years younger but who rode my bus, attended the same school, and whose brother was a classmate who graduated high school with me. I did not deem his presence an interruption, I did see it as an opportunity to secure one more reader to my blog. He asked what I was doing as I knew he would. I corralled him like a used car salesmen corrals a first time car buyer. When he asked what I was writing about I told him. I explained that I was writing about finding quiet in the middle of the day. He smiled and apologized. I told him it was okay. If there was one person in the place who might understand, it would be the one person in the place who'd known me for over fifty years. After I shoved a business card with my blog address in his hand he thanked me and promised to leave me alone. For some crazy reason his short visit opened a floodgate of nostalgia about the small country town we both grew up in. When we talked for those short few minutes I was transported back in time. Back to a time when quiet was common and friendship tested the sands of time.