Salt of The Earth

I love small town folks. I recently met three in Missouri when I took my laptop into one of those 24-hour diners where the waitresses call you “Honey” and they only play pre 1965 music from an old fashioned jukebox. I thought I should write about the encounters since I’ve never before had three such conversations in such a short amount of time. The ages are approximations and the conversations are as close as I can remember.

I first met Warren (age 48)

Warren: “You gittin’ internet in here?”

Me: “No. I’m just working on some other things.”

Warren: “Really? You looked like you was gittin’ Wi-Fi.”

(This was the first time I’d heard “gittin’” and “Wi-Fi” in the same sentence.”

Me: “Nope. I wish.”

Warren: “You should go down ta Burger King. You can git Wi-Fi there.”

Me: “Is that right?”

Warren: “Ya, just go in and turn down that narrow hall there (he says, assuming I know the layout of the Burger King) and there’s a big table in the back. You can plug in and git Wi-Fi all day back there.”

Me: “Thank you. That’s good to know.”

Warren: “Yep.”

Later I met Jacob (age 14)

Jacob: “Is that your computer?” (He says while approaching me with a burger in one hand and a drink in the other)

Me: “Yes, it is.”

Jacob: “What are you doing with it?”

Me: (Remaining vague in case he’s computer savvy enough to speak at length on any computer related prompt.) “I’m just typing.”

Jacob: “What kind is it?”

Me: “It’s a Mac.”

Jacob: “How much did it cost?”

Me: “About a thousand dollars.” (It was more, but I’m still being vague.)

Jacob: “Wow, that’s a lot! (coughs a second) What if computers like that grew on trees? That would be cool.”

Me: “That would be pretty cool.”

Jacob: “Ya, you could go out and just pick as many as wanted.”
(Long pause as we both smile at the prospect of computer trees.)
“Well, I gotta go.”

(He sets his burger on my table so he can shake my hand which, despite my grease-a-phobia, I shake because Jacob seems like a nice kid.)

Me: “It was nice to meet you Jacob.”

Jacob: “See you later.”

Last I met Paul (age 65) who was sitting at the counter eavesdropping on mine and Jacob’s conversation.

Paul: “So what kind of program does that have?”

Me: “Whats that? Oh, it has all kinds of different programs.”

Paul: “You a computer guy or some kind of programmer?”

Me: “Me? No. I can barely use the basic programs.”

Paul: “You have one of them new iPod’s you can talk on?”

Me: “You mean the iPhone?”

Paul: “Ya. One of them you can talk on and play music.”

Me: “No, I don’t have one of those.”

Paul: “They cost a lot?”

Me: “I understand they cost quite a bit for a phone.”

Paul: “What the Hell people need all that s@#% for anyway?”

Me: (shrugging) “I think they’re just lonely. So they try to bury the memory of past failed relationships and lost loved ones by investing a gratuitous amount of money on the latest gadget, naively convinced that the burgeoning tech industry and the developments of the future will help take their minds off the pains of the past.”

Paul: “What?”

Me: “I don’t know why people need all that stuff.”