On Monday at noon, we met my parents and my sister’s family for a Memorial Day picnic in a local park. T
he park has several pavilions and we were fortunate to find one with open tables and a small charcoal grill. We cooked, played baseball, did some fishing and waded through the creek. The kids even saw an enormous North American Water Snake.
After we had finished eating, two more families joined us under the pavilion. We smiled and said, “Hello” and watched as they placed their coolers and recreational aids on tables to reserve them. One family was a woman about 30 years old with six little girls, and the other family was a man and woman with two boys and a girl. The second family approached the small charcoal grill, it was still glowing from our burgers and dogs, and began to place more coals on the fire.
The 30 year old woman walked over to the grill and claimed it as her own and asked the man to please step away. The man, quite nicely, suggested that they share it and explained that since he was ready to cook, she could use it when she was ready. The woman then responded with the news that the rest of her group would be here in five minutes, so she was just as ready as he was.
My dad, mom, sister and I watched from our table. Thankfully, the kids were fishing. Being witness to these moments is so interesting, isn’t it? Ever since ABC Prime Time started that series, “What Would You Do?” using hidden cameras to record strangers’ reactions in ethical situations, I just feel torn up as to what to do. Say something? Mind my own business?
One summer, we were visiting our family in Toronto. To be honest, I can’t even remember where we were headed, maybe the Blue Jays game, but we were riding the subway together. A nasty fight broke out at the end of the train we were in, and my whole family (parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, 83 year old grandmother) jumped up to intervene so that the victim would be spared. Genetically speaking, I am no shrinking violet.
As I searched the surrounding bushes for Todd Quinones, my dad spoke up. He reminded the woman how fortunate it will be for her to have the man’s hot coals already blazing when the rest of her family arrives with the food. She replied that he had ribs, which took ages to cook.
There were some more words exchanged between the woman and the man, debating who had stepped foot into the pavilion first, and I debated the merits of a lie if we were consulted. She was there first, but since I was pretty sure we weren’t being filmed (reporters take Memorial Day off too, right?) I tried to ascertain the greater good. Finally, the man returned to his table and told his wife to start packing up. Even though we were disappointed, my family and I whispered warnings to one another, the most frequent being, “Don’t say anything.” We watched as the smaller family left the pavilion in search of another spot.
ABOUT 30 MINUTES LATER, a man showed up to join the woman and girls, CARRYING A NEW GRILL IN A WALMART BOX. Over the NEXT HOUR, others came and they leisurely assembled the grill as the kids ran around and played in the grass. TWO HOURS LATER they began cooking chicken.
I sat there, inventing blog post titles in my head. “Happy Memorial Day. Today is the day we remember and celebrate the death of common decency, of sharing, of being neighborly, of sacrifice.” Then there was, “Oh my! How did that huge North American Water Snake end up in your cooler?” I went to play baseball with the kids as a preventative measure.
We had been at the park for four hours when we started packing up our stuff, and the other family had not eaten one bite of food yet. My sister and I gathered our children’s things and she whispered in my ear, “While you were playing baseball, I heard the woman call someone and remind her to bring the karaoke machine.” I guess there was an outdoor, public, holiday concert planned as well.
Well, it is a free country. Many thanks to the men and women who have worked and sacrificed and died to give us the right to be as obnoxious as we want.
he park has several pavilions and we were fortunate to find one with open tables and a small charcoal grill. We cooked, played baseball, did some fishing and waded through the creek. The kids even saw an enormous North American Water Snake.After we had finished eating, two more families joined us under the pavilion. We smiled and said, “Hello” and watched as they placed their coolers and recreational aids on tables to reserve them. One family was a woman about 30 years old with six little girls, and the other family was a man and woman with two boys and a girl. The second family approached the small charcoal grill, it was still glowing from our burgers and dogs, and began to place more coals on the fire.
The 30 year old woman walked over to the grill and claimed it as her own and asked the man to please step away. The man, quite nicely, suggested that they share it and explained that since he was ready to cook, she could use it when she was ready. The woman then responded with the news that the rest of her group would be here in five minutes, so she was just as ready as he was.
My dad, mom, sister and I watched from our table. Thankfully, the kids were fishing. Being witness to these moments is so interesting, isn’t it? Ever since ABC Prime Time started that series, “What Would You Do?” using hidden cameras to record strangers’ reactions in ethical situations, I just feel torn up as to what to do. Say something? Mind my own business?
One summer, we were visiting our family in Toronto. To be honest, I can’t even remember where we were headed, maybe the Blue Jays game, but we were riding the subway together. A nasty fight broke out at the end of the train we were in, and my whole family (parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, 83 year old grandmother) jumped up to intervene so that the victim would be spared. Genetically speaking, I am no shrinking violet.
As I searched the surrounding bushes for Todd Quinones, my dad spoke up. He reminded the woman how fortunate it will be for her to have the man’s hot coals already blazing when the rest of her family arrives with the food. She replied that he had ribs, which took ages to cook.
There were some more words exchanged between the woman and the man, debating who had stepped foot into the pavilion first, and I debated the merits of a lie if we were consulted. She was there first, but since I was pretty sure we weren’t being filmed (reporters take Memorial Day off too, right?) I tried to ascertain the greater good. Finally, the man returned to his table and told his wife to start packing up. Even though we were disappointed, my family and I whispered warnings to one another, the most frequent being, “Don’t say anything.” We watched as the smaller family left the pavilion in search of another spot.
ABOUT 30 MINUTES LATER, a man showed up to join the woman and girls, CARRYING A NEW GRILL IN A WALMART BOX. Over the NEXT HOUR, others came and they leisurely assembled the grill as the kids ran around and played in the grass. TWO HOURS LATER they began cooking chicken.
I sat there, inventing blog post titles in my head. “Happy Memorial Day. Today is the day we remember and celebrate the death of common decency, of sharing, of being neighborly, of sacrifice.” Then there was, “Oh my! How did that huge North American Water Snake end up in your cooler?” I went to play baseball with the kids as a preventative measure.
We had been at the park for four hours when we started packing up our stuff, and the other family had not eaten one bite of food yet. My sister and I gathered our children’s things and she whispered in my ear, “While you were playing baseball, I heard the woman call someone and remind her to bring the karaoke machine.” I guess there was an outdoor, public, holiday concert planned as well.
Well, it is a free country. Many thanks to the men and women who have worked and sacrificed and died to give us the right to be as obnoxious as we want.
6 comments:
I wonder what she says when her children don't want to share...
wow that is infuriating. the thing is, people like that are both the hardest for me to love and the hardest for me to confront. so many time I'm guilty of not speaking up and just silently hating.
but I know there are times I've acted just like that woman. still though, that whole episode you described is just incredulous and glimpse of the ugliness of our self human nature.
I LOVE THE HEADLINES!!
Just reread my post from this morning. I would watch out for me today - I am in quite a mood, aren't I? Meredith is right - the better question is how do I love someone, in a genuine way, who does something like that? I seem to have forgotten what I pistol I can be.
what's sad is that this woman is modeling this behavior for 1/2 dozen other young women. She probably complains that her children are selfish and wonders why!
LOL! You are a pistol sometimes, but most of the time I consider it to be part of your charm. You were, after all, thinking of the 'decent' thing to do. I agree with anonymous. What makes it the most infuriating is the fact that she was setting an example for her children. Ugh!
My husband calls it being 'passionate about life'....good enuf for me...not enuf 'pistols' out here as far as I'm concerned.
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