Hi everybody...

Hope everyone is doing well.

Got out a bit today and caught a little lunch...and jotted this down. My writing chops are a little rusty...not quite catching "it", but maybe a decent line or two in there....

The Lunch Blog

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I got out today. Made it over to a diner that just opened and sat down. I was next to the pastry case. It was filled with...well, it was filled with joy. The pastry chef had made a bunch of cute little desserts shaped like a cow, or with M&M's - all bright colors, dancing around in mirth.

I was filled with thoughts of worry and anxiousness, waiting to see where the day would take me.

I noticed two old men walking in. Both wearing caps of World War II veterans. I don't see many of them anymore. One of them must have been 85 years old. He was shuffling past me and I stopped for a second and began to think more deeply about him, about who he was and what that generation meant. This was a warrior. A man who risked his life to bring down Hitler and world tyranny. And here he was, having lunch with a friend. It moved me. I don't know why I caught the moment. I don't know why I didn't think he was "just another old guy." But I didn't.

Then another vet walked in...and another and another...until perhaps 10 or more had walked in. And I recalled my Dad and my step-father - both who had served in WWII. What a generation! What a generation of honorable men!

I finished my lunch and walked outside. There was another veteran in the parking lot, walking around. I didn't understand. Then, I saw a car with an open door. He was looking for the owner. 80 years old or more and still looking to help and protect others! The warrior code had never left this man, this Atlas helping to hold up the world. And his discipline was infectious, as pretty soon several people in the parking lot became concerned and tried to help.

I left there, moved by the honor of these great men, and injected with a new sense of hope and purpose and joy. Warriors, still out there, fighting for what was right...and, for me, smashing this day's doubts and sarcasm and disillusionment.

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I also wrote a poem, maybe 15 years ago...about just the warmth, the "hearth" of drinking some hot coffee in, on a winter day.....


This is My Japanese Tea Ceremony


Is the wind, wind?
Does the wind have particles?
I find them imbedded in me,
(What is it I find embedded in me?)
when I walk on winter mornings?

I can see the sky's clear, clear blue horizon-strip,
As I walk on winter mornings,
Walk on to my corner little coffee store.

I love coffee.
I love the white paper cups, the smells, sugar packets,
Their red plastic containers.
I love coffee.

My store's Jersey check out girl says, "How're ya today?"
With the slight of a note trailing off, singing, fading.
I smile at her and joke, "You're too old for me."
Check out girls can look with mom eyes,
Can look clear through,
Can look with eyes that love,
And she says, "You're funny,"
Eyes smiling with mom-love.

I love the coffee odors,
The quiet stand on counters are all old friends.
Tan-brown dignified coats pass in and out,
And have passed in and out,
All these many memories held in the stains and packets.
How may quick hellos and goodbyes I have loved!
I love coffee.

Coffee, the hot things,
They warm me.
My time has come,
I walk out on my winter morning.

The sky's distant blue strip,
It, it calms and calls, beckons, says, "Here, my friend,
I offer you another day."

I drink coffee,
In my oasis, I drink the warm things deep inside me.


take care,

Jon