Adventures In… ch.56

October 3, 2011 § Leave a comment

Adventures In…

An Old Western.

I have always been amused by the sidekick role coffee plays in Bonanza episodes. Every once in a while it will show up when they are entertaining a girl or having a discussion. The show unfailingly draws me in, making me desire a simpler time. The coffee always catches my eye. I spent one season of my life watching rerun episodes of Bonanza with the elderly couple I worked for. Every afternoon I would turn it on so that my 85 year old, male client could enjoy it; giving me an hour to not have to worry about him escaping the house. He would put his feet up, and we’d both get lost in the fictional plots set in an era long before iPhones, airplanes, and television.

Would I have survived? I cannot help but wonder if I would have thrived (or died) in that wild and wonderful time in history. Over the past few months I have developed a deep-seeded love for my iPhone (affectionately named Gidget). I am sure, in time, I would get over the loss of Solitaire and my Weather Channel app, but could I navigate my way (in my Isuzu Rodeo lovingly named Kojak) without help from Mapquest? What would my busy days be without a quick dinner of Annie’s Natural macaroni and a can of low sodium tuna? My mind begins to throb as I think about what hard work would be required to reap the fruits and vegetables I am so accustomed to lazily picking up at the store. Yet, I continue to long for that [not-so] simpler time.

As I daydream about my old western life I imagine the burly man, the long pursuit and the short courtship, the dramatic love. I would not be the sassy character, but rather the one who sits home and sews waiting for the man to whisk her away up to his cabin in the mountains. The unappealing horse riding part is made up for by the homemade quilts and fresh eggs. I wonder what the coffee would taste like.

When I really, truly think about my survival ability in a simpler (but more difficult) time I am surprised to find that deep down inside I believe I would make it. Maybe I feel strong enough because I have lived in different places, experienced different lives, and am quickly approaching the age of 30. Maybe I have confidence because I grew up anxiously inspecting the organic, garden-grown broccoli on my dinner plate for worms, or maybe it is because the sight of a dead deer hanging in the garage became a warm, holiday-type of feeling early on in my childhood. Regardless, it is there, and I am pleasantly shocked! And to it I raise my vintage coffee cup nearly drained of its French-pressed contents and toast to simpler times.


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