The beauty of this column, like Jerry Seinfeld’s TV sitcom, is that it’s really all about nothing.
Perhaps you’ve seen the episode in which George Costanza is asked by Hollywood producers to explain what the show was about? He threw his hands in the air and in his iconic, overly-energetic and irksome way, shouted through that cheese-eating grin, “That’s the beauty of this thing, it’s about absolutely nothing!”
For years now, I’ve managed to write something about “absolutely nothing!” I’m often asked, “Where do you come up with all this stuff?” (Well, most are polite enough to use the word “stuff” while others use another “s” word.) But that’s nothing new; I’ve been told I’m full of it all my life.
Often times I write about moments I’ve borrowed from other people’s everyday lives. It’s like working a puzzle; I enjoy taking snippets of information and challenging myself to fill in the rest of the story.
My propensity to make something of nothing doesn’t stop with just snippets of conversation. My patient wife has spent 50 years hearing, “Did you see that? Did you see the lady singing at the top of her lungs in the car next to us” I blurt out excitedly, “I wonder what song she’s singing?” Marilyn, polite but disengaged responds, “No, I wasn’t paying attention.”
You see! That’s what I’m talking about. I pay attention to those kinds of details. I drive her crazy on the interstate; constantly wondering aloud what’s under the tarp on the truck we just passed, or where the family in the minivan is heading?
“They’re obviously on vacation, didja see the snowboards in the back?” Finally, after a half dozen pointless observations about nothing, Marilyn, knowing I’m not going to stop says, “No, Ron I don’t know where they are going, maybe you can convince them to pull over and you can ask them.” I get the point and stifle a dozen more mysterious wonders along the way.
I’ve often thought I would love to have a hand-held digital sign so I could ask truckers what they’ve got under that strange shaped tarpaulin. But on second thought, when I consider the regularity of single-digit signs I receive while driving, I probably should leave well enough alone.
I guess I see stories like artists see colors and shapes. I enjoy the distraction of other people’s conversations. Like the other day, I was reading in a coffee shop and trying to block out the white noise of conversations all around me. Suddenly, a phrase wafted past me that I simply couldn’t ignore. It came from a nearby table and it captured my complete attention.
“So this darling little toddler grabbed my face in her tiny hands, looked me in the eye and said…”
Do you see what I mean? You simply cannot ignore eavesdropping on an attention-getting line like that…can you?
I lowered my digital book and stared straight ahead, faking that reflective, lost-in- my-own-world-look. But in truth, although my body stayed put, my mind had seated itself at their table waiting for the punch line.
“She’s so sweet, her big eyes looking my face all over—taking in every line and wrinkle, and says…”
Just like you, by now I have abandoned any pretense of disinterest and turned to hear the punch line, which she delivers with a gentle chuckle,
“Grandma, you’re getting old enough to die, aren’t you?’”
I lost it; laughed out loud, and it drew the story teller’s attention. She looked over at me and I knew I was busted, so I just smiled and said, “That’s great!” Happily, she welcomed my intrusion with a nod and knowing smile.
Isn’t it true that the most extraordinary moments in our lives often occur while we’re in the middle of being very ordinary? I believe God enjoys those moments with us as well. I’m reminded of an extraordinary scripture verse I love in Romans 12, verse 1—
“So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him.”
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.