Way back when telephones were confined to desks and street corners, it took a few days to locate my brother and wish him a happy birthday. Bret was especially hard to reach that summer he spent selling encyclopedias door-to-door in the desolate, Texas outpost that was his assigned territory. When we finally connected, I naturally asked how he spent his 22nd (23rd?) birthday and flashback on pieces of his answer every July 21st since...
"Had to work...I'm never going to make any money in this job...these people have so little and are so nice...I can't ask them to buy something they don't need. I gave a halfhearted pitch to a happy, round woman who cut me short and invited me to dinner. Tracy, it was the best fried chicken I've ever eaten in my life!! And they had watermelon too! We sat around and talked all afternoon. They gave me a ride to the highway where I told them I'd make it the rest of the way on my own... Figured I'd walk until the skies opened up... Drenched. Started to hitch and didn't take long for a truck driver to stop and offer a ride home. It was a good day."
Happy Birthday, Bret. Hope yours was a fried chicken, watermelon and good company kind of day.
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
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