Sometimes I like to get out of our little park and wander around LaBelle a bit. About a mile or so up the road you’ll come to a small spot by the side of the road called Bob Mason park. I do not know who Bob Mason is, but I personally want to thank him for this little piece of heaven right on the Caloosahatchee river. It’s a wonderful little park and offers all of the things that a park should. Old growth oaks covered with Spanish moss line the waterfront, allowing the sun to peek in from above. It’s a favorite spot of locals and you can often find them sitting on the bank fishing or sunning. I like to sit there and think about things and consider life, although sometimes I just sit.
I happened to settle down near a local man the other day. He nodded and asked where I was from. “Whisper Creek” I proudly announced. He smiled and started to say something, but let it pass. I gave him the time he needed to gather his thoughts and then he asked politely if he could make a suggestion or two that I could carry back to my Whisper Creek tribe.
“Sure” I said, “Have at it.”
“Well first of all,” he began. “I want you to know that we really appreciate y’all coming down here in the winter. Were it not for your greatly needed dollars we would not be able to keep some of our noble institutions like McDonalds or Taco Bell open. I am not sure I could face a future without a burrito supreme in it. But there are a few suggestions that I could offer to make the world a little better and safer for all of us.”
“Go on” I said, my interest starting to peak.
“Well for instance, at some intersections here in LaBelle there are these octagonally shaped red signs that say STOP. Could you tell your people that the word STOP is not a suggestion? Stop all the way,” he said, “and look around a bit. You might see something interesting.”
“Also, there is this little lever on the left side of the steering column just south of the steering wheel. It’s called a turn signal. Maybe your people could consider using it. The rest of us would just like to have a sense of where you’re going is all.” He added, “I heard that 50% of senior citizens don’t bother to use a turn signal.” I asked him where he got that figure. He said he could not remember – but it seemed about right.
He was on a roll now and continued. “Now I understand that as we all get older we are going to have some hearing problems, but when you walk around the Wal Mart with your speaker phone on talking about your brother-in-law’s problems with regularity, well there are just some things we don’t want to hear about.”
I smiled, remembering overhearing various versions of similar conversations myself.
“Another thing I’ve noticed is that you all get so excited when you are asked to show your ID while buying a bottle of Fireball. Hey, it’s the law down here. 19 to 91 you’re going to get carded.”
“Oh, and one final thing. Many of you have decided to cast your fate with a small dog or two. And as much as I understand your need for a canine companion we would appreciate it if you would pick up their “contributions” soon after they make them. We just don’t want their deposits in our yards. And besides, it’s so cute watching you carry around little bags of poop like so much treasure.”
Anything else?” I asked hoping this conversation was over.
“No, I think I’ve said enough.” Sensing that he may have offered a little too much, he backtracked just a little. “Just want you to know that we love you and appreciate all the pictures of your grandchildren and your dedication to the Weather Channel. And I hope to see you all at the Taco Bell soon!”