Focusing on the Bad is no Good.....Welcome to 2013

Happy New Year, y'all. I cannot believe another 365 days have ticked away and we are welcoming 2013. Lots of milestones happened this year, some important (i.e. moving to NYC) and some that are just personal milestones of very little meaning (i.e., realizing that turning 32 means that I have been a legal driver just as long as I was not). In truth, I have been driving since I was 14. Most kids in Cassville got a head start on things like that. Dad would not feel like going to the dumpster with the trash, so he would throw me the keys and I would boogie down to Cedar Creek Road.  I remember depositing my first paycheck, I remember buying a house, I remember flying for the first time but NOTHING makes you feel more free than the first time on the road behind the wheel. Even though I was hauling foul garbage from Cass Grocery, complete with almost empty tubs of mayonnaise that had been sitting in the 90 degree sun for three days and that disgusting "trash juice" sloshing around with a smell that would knock a buzzard off a gut wagon....I loved every second of it. I would crank up "Take It Easy," roll down the windows and head down the road.

Many people often look back on a year and think of all the bad things that happened. I'm not sure why people choose to reflect on sadness and grief, to be honest. They are not wrong for doing so, but I get nothing out of it personally. I would rather think of the good times. Frankly, I am living "in the now" more than ever. You cannot change the past and tomorrow is not guaranteed, so live the next 24 hours like it is the best day ever. I think my Neen's passing had something to do with that.  Since I have subscribed to this philosophy, I feel much less stressed and I am not dreading going to work anymore. I feel like I am 16 again and back at the store, putting up 16 penny nails, restocking the Coke cooler and teaching yet another kid about how 2 cycle oil works. Granted, it was not all roses up there but we had it made. We really did. I try to remember what a "bad" day was like up there and it just makes me laugh. It would always be a collection of events that would make our days long and aggravating. We did not have an HR department or a water cooler to stand around and air out our gripes, so we just had to press on. So, here are a few events that I recall that could result in a "bad" day at Cass Grocery:

1) A customer drops and breaks a gallon jug of milk.

A gallon of milk can cover 375 square miles when it explodes all over a tile floor. It takes no less than an hour to mop and wipe it off everything because you cannot have any left to spoil overnight. Seriously, go drop a gallon in your kitchen right now. You will still be cleaning it when Spring Break rolls around. EVERY SINGLE customer afterwards walks in while you are cleaning it and say, "Damn boy, what happened?" I always wanted to say, "a cow was in here and sprung a leak, we got it stopped with some PVC glue and JB Weld, though. Thanks for asking."

2) The engaged gas pump handle falls out of a car and basically hoses down the front with flammable liquid.

This happened quite often with old Chevy trucks, where the gas was pumped into the side of the cab rather than the bed. You could stick your arm down the hole where the gas would go and the least little movement could jostle (another wonderful Southern term) that pump loose and before you know it, the front is a giant inferno waiting to happen. Before somebody throws a cigarette on it, you have to run and grab as much cat litter as possible to cover it up. Cat litter could dry out Lake Allatoona if you had enough of it. Of course, the presence of cat litter all over the front elicits much commentary...."you boys building a new bathroom out here? Hehehe. Hey David, these boys ain't potty trained yet?"

3) Catching a shoplifter.

In the rare event we did catch them, it always put us in a bad mood. I caught a 10 year old kid stealing cigarettes once and I locked him in the ice cooler. Literally, we picked him up and threw him in with the 7 pound bags of ice. I called his dad to come get him, which he did, and he spanked that boy right there in the parking lot. He never stole again. A local farmer once discovered that his son had pocketed some candy while he was buying horse feed and he brought his son back up to the store. He told me to make a big deal out of it, tell the kid I was calling the cops and he will never see his momma again. I did my best "bad guy" until the boy was bawling his eyes out. I wanted to dig a hole in the tile and dive into it. The farmer just winked at me and he dragged his son to the back room of the store and wore his butt out. He never stole again. Cassville justice always coming through in the clutch.

4) A group of senior citizens want ice cream and they all want the one that is frozen the hardest.

I love old folks. I really do. But sometimes, they can be as annoying as a screaming child. Without a doubt, I will have just taken a new Butter Pecan out of the freezer and an out of town church group will pile in the store. Each one wearing a fanny pack with socks and sandals. That Butter Pecan just came out of a freezer that was set at 23 degrees and of course, they all want that one.  It's like trying to cut a brick with a plastic fork. You tell them this fact and they don't budge, "awww, we were craving that one." They give the puppy dog eyes and you begrudgingly dig in. 30 minutes later, you finally finish the tenth cone, after breaking at least five into a thousands of pieces. I'm shocked my forearms are not 25 inches in circumference.

5) Dealing with bad checks and giving credit.

Many folks have no idea how many worthless checks we took over the years. We've had $5.00 checks come back stamped "NSF." I got duped for $100 by a con artist once, using a two party out of town check that would have bounced to Adairsville if I slammed it on the ground. So, I called an investigator at the county sheriff's office and I told him to be on the lookout for this "sorry sumbitch" around town. I forgot about it until six months later, when the investigator dragged this rough looking girl into the store and said, "Brad, I believe Miss America here has something to say." As it turns out, the con artist was her boyfriend and they got into a fight (surprise, surprise). He went to jail over it and the investigator recognized the name on the jail roll call. She laid $100 on the counter and he just winked at me. I gave him a free bologna sandwich for his trouble. We let people get $3.00 of gas on credit and then we wouldn't see them for six months. Then, these people would get annoyed when we asked them for the money. My favorites were the people we barely knew that wanted credit. They would come in the store, "toeing the dirt" and smiling too much. They would start off with the ever original line, "hot enough for ye?" Uh oh. Weather talk. Put your hand on your wallet. Dad had no patience for this and would just cut them off, "partner, just stop right there. I might as well take out a $20 bill and light it on fire right here. You ain't gettin any credit here." 

Those are some examples of bad things at Cass Grocery. They usually turned out to give us a good laugh in the end, though. I tend to think of the good people so much more. Like Tom, who would sit outside and smoke Winstons and talk to us all day. He ran a gas station/auto repair store about five miles away. He fixed all my flat tires for free until the end of the year, when I gave him a case of Natural Light whether he wanted it or not. He would never take any money from us and would get pissed off when I tried to pay him. It was only fair because my tires were magnets for wayward nails, bolts, fence staples, pieces of glass and scrap metal. One day, Tom said, "Got dam boy, you must drive through a barbed wire fence every day on the way to school." I miss Tom. 

Or Andrew, who was so strong that he could hold his arm out and I could do pullups on it. Really. He once caught these two trailer trash kids stealing fish hooks and picked them up like naughty puppies and slung them out the door. There is Ed, who always helped us pump gas when we were busy. Jackie, Joel, Harold and Dee, who would drink coffee all morning and keep an eye on things. There was little wonder why nobody tried to rob us, all four of them were carrying pistols on their ankles or in their pockets. Or Mark, who would bring me steak on July 4th from their family cookout. Or Lamar, who would sit outside and wait for his ride to the Shaw plant. When I was a kid, I would talk to him and ask him why he wore a shower cap to work, "I can't be gettin' no lint on my head!" Larry and Randall, who would indulge me with stories of serving in Vietnam and always ending with, "don't you never go to war, it ain't glamorous, trust me." When I was young, I would walk up to the store when my shift started. There is no telling how many times people would offer me a ride or just honk their horns to say "hey!" It's those simple things that you like to recall. They didn't mean as much at the time, but as you get older and time passes, you realize that it meant a hell of a lot. 

So, here's to another year. Here's to a simpler life. Here's to focusing on the good. Here's to doing what makes you happy. Here's to less stress, more fun and going to bed fulfilled every day. Here's to Cassville, Anderson, South Carolina, New York City, the Georgia Bulldogs, an eternally filled Starbucks cup, no traffic, 10 mph winds or less, the squat rack at my gym being unoccupied when I come in, running into good friends that I haven't seen in awhile, comfortable sweatpants, Rebel Rebel record store in the West Village, having a glass of whiskey on a cold day, the awesome silence of my parent's back porch at 7 AM, furry Kangols, live versions of "Stormy Monday," "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," and "Jessica," sunrises and sunsets, combat veterans, pre-war apartment stoops, Napa, rigatoni bolognese, and many more years of enjoying and appreciating another 24 hours on Earth.