News from Town
Look for my next T. C. on July 14th. I’ll need a few weeks to focus on a large kitchen modification at the end of this month, so I’m resting my quill for two weeks.
Welcome four new Readers! Yay!
Vania, HB, JT, JW: May Town Character put a summery spring in your step as you leap through a sprinkler!
Cheers for one reader who upgraded to a paid subscription: SE.
Yippee!
The Stats:
Readers: 269
Paid Subscribers: 23 | Care to join ‘em?
Pay a little bit for my writing, and you’ll rescue me from my part-time gig as Dog Park Concierge (third shift). It’s really lonely, guys.
Getting Small
This week in the Lancaster post office two boys about six years old stood side-by-side pointing at a shelf behind the front desk. They shook with animated interest, hands gesturing and pointing at a few rows of bobblehead toys.
For years I’ve delighted in those very figurines, a spot of light in an otherwise official, hollow lobby where the lines can get very long. They belong to Will, a 50-something postal worker with a slightly brittle exterior and a soft interior.
From his menagerie, it’s apparent he’s a Double Stuf Oreo®.
These boys were trying to figure out who Will’s brightly colored, big-headed characters were, offering up their guesses.
Seeing those boys primed me for noticing two other become-a-child-again moments outside my front door.
Oh, the Huge-Vanity!
Later that day one of those heinous-looking Ford Transit vans backed into a spot on College Avenue across the street from my porch. Our housemate Josh and I watched two moms gather five children onto the sidewalk.
The seven made their way to the North Museum of Nature and Science. It was raining slightly (we sure needed it!), so our view was obstructed by drooping branches. A ruckus went up from their group that sounded like kids howling with laughter at some shenanigans.
Then we saw the gang loping back to their vehicle. It became obvious that the howl was not from happiness.
One of the boys, about six years old, held his mom’s hand and paced ponderously beside her. His brother (perhaps a twin), whose soul could not be comforted, wept with his hands curled up to his face. Alas, the North Museum is closed on Mondays.
Josh and I imagined the other mom, the driver, saying something like, “So sorry kids. We’ll have to come back some other time. Tell you what, who wants some ice cream?”
Love Me Tender
Later a young dad backed his minivan into a spot in front of our porch. He gingerly extracted an eleven-month-old boy from his car seat, walked around to the back of the van, pressed a button, and they both watched the hatch magically rise.
Dad leaned in to grab a stroller, and as he did, the boy clung to his daddy’s shoulder as if seeking comfort more than stability.
I re-imagined the many times I held our William in the same way. He’s 27 now, and I still relish the chance to shake his man’s hand or feel it tap my back in the act of a manly hug.
I thanked God that both of my parents honored my childhood by giving me safe refuge in my time of vulnerability. I winced to think of the kids, some of you reading this, who experienced anything less.
They’re Just Kids
Childhood is precious, but actual children can be very difficult, let’s make no bones about it. And adults who act like kids (in the worst kinds of ways) are a societal problem.
In a blog post 12 years ago I was working out what Jesus meant when he said a person must become a child in order to see God’s kingdom. Certainly he couldn’t have meant the kind of childishness all of us should grow out of.
I made two lists, and here are my updated versions, as I’m clearly still working it out.
Childishness:
• Making a big deal about stupid stuff • Crying for crying’s sake • Assuming there’s one lens for seeing any old thing • Barging in on others’ conversations, fun, and spaces • Coveting, blaming, and stereotyping • Insisting on not being tired when tired • Nursing fears of imaginative foes • Ignoring the feelings of others
Childlikeness:
• Waking up ready to rock • Lusting for wonder nearly every minute • Willing to take sweetness at face value • Rejecting ugliness and evil • Finding pleasure in cardboard, leaves, and baths • Giving and needing hugs in equal measure • Trusting the bigger hand • Moving from role play to reality seamlessly • Speaking the mind without guile or flattery
Water Works
So as the weather heats up, try a little childlikeness. Take a minute to walk through sprinklers, fountains, and errant hoses. Running is better.
And if you need therapy in such tomfoolery, join me at The Back Porch Fest 2 at Frey’s Greenhouse on July 8th. My local organization, The Row House Inc., is hosting it just for the fun of it. Along with sprinklers, an art tent, and picnic food, our music lineup should bring out the kid in you:
Yacht Rock Showcase with Captains Jim & Tom and live set by Roni Bates
Scottish line-dance (ceilidh) with a legit, a live Scottish caller (Richard)
Jazz/funk trio to close out the night with uninhibited dancing, featuring local players Matthew Monticchio and George Yellak
On Display
Back at the post office, the mom in charge of the two boys was at the far left finishing up business with Cindy. She motioned: “Time to go, boys.”
I took her place at the desk, and Cindy and I shared a smile over the kids’ enthusiasm as I handed her a package with a book in it that has an entire chapter called “Become a Child Again.”1
I asked Cindy about the dolls because she too has an assortment on her shelves. I learned that Will collects Funko toys, a brand I was vaguely aware of thanks to my mother-in-law.2
Will emerged from the back room.
“Hey, Will. How many of those guys do you have at home?”
“None.”
And that’s the thing about childlikeness: It can’t contain itself. It spills out onto the sidewalks and into the cracks of life.
As Leonard Cohen put it,
That’s how the light gets in.
She saw a Dwight Schrute Funko doll and for some reason thought I should have it on my shelf. As the old song goes, “To know, know, know me is to love, love, love me.” Or something like that. Thanks, Wendy!