My Enlightened Outlook

It is a great comfort to me, as a man of advanced years, wisdom and spiritual development, that I do not let little things bother me. Lesser men do, and I feel sorry for them. I have always been guided by the sageness of my elders who taught me to overlook the grains of sand in my shoes and walk on undisturbed. It is the key to happiness.

That is one reason it pleased me so much to pull up to the pizza shop in my car today and read the sign in the window that promised me that for $4.99, I could get a nice big slice of pepperoni pizza and a pop. I was in need of both those things so I entered the restaurant with excitement.

That is the other lesson I have learned. Far from being potential irritants, it is the little things in life that afford the greatest pleasures.

I approached the counter and asked the young man at the cash register for a pepperoni slice and a pop.

“Sorry,” he said, not looking very sorry. “All I have is Mediterranean or Canadian. Being Canadian and never having been to Mediterranea, I chose a slice of Canadian, knowing it would cost more than the advertised pepperoni. I have learned to go with the flow.

The man soon returned with my slice and rang me up. The total was $4.73.

“My pop?” I asked.

“You didn’t order a pop,” said my server.

I did order one, of course, but like I am sure Buddha would have done, I let it slide.

“I would like one,” I said.

“I’ve already rang in your order,” I was told. Once orders are rung in, I understand, they cannot be unrung in.

“That’s okay,” I smiled, much as any of my great mystic heroes might have done.

“That’s $1.57,” he said.

I paid for my pizza and pop, more expensive than they should have been according to the sign in the window, notwithstanding. My outlay was now $6.30, not that I was paying that much attention.

I took my meal to a table and did some calculating as I ate, not that it mattered to me. Had I gotten what I came in for, I would have spent $5.64. I was now eating and drinking a snack that had cost me 66 cents more than it should have.

But who was counting?

Not me.

I have learned to stay above the fray.

The pop was warmer than the pizza.

Just the way I like it.

©2020 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.