The Strawberry Chapter 8

The Strawberry Chapter 8

The seeds of laughter and Example

by Katherine Aguilar

Writing this particular chapter is a weave of colors that honestly can go in various directions. However, the reader reads it. I at no time condone violence or words of a derogatory nature. If that is the only way a person can express themselves. There needs to be some self-evaluation.

I can use the strangest words to express something that is simple and clear to me, but may cause confusion to others. The way I am writing this first seed of laughter, I am re-visualizing the memory in my head. Because, as it was back then, it had the same effect on me. The laughter of the person who started laughing at my word combinations and my accent goes with them. It made him laugh so hard he was crying.

The seed of laughter

I am not sure if it was a laughing seed or a stress-relieving seed.

It had been a long while since I had had a car. So I used a car service. For a very long time. Every time I would get in the car service car. I would think of it as my ten-minute therapy session, not just for me but for the driver. I have heard their stories, vents, and frustrations. Depending on who gets to vent first.

I would like to note that during this car service ride, I was the one venting. I am not sure if it was a laughing seed or a stress-relieving seed.

It had been a long while since I had had a car. So I used a car service. For a very long time. Every time I would get in the car service car. I would think of it as my ten-minute therapy session, not just for me but for the driver. I have heard their stories, vents, and frustrations. Depending on who gets to vent first.

Now I would like to note that my expression of words is not as refined as it should be. It never has been. Go figure! I was raised in the city, but my accent has always been country. I put colorful word combinations together that, at times, do not match. But after the person hears it. They can see how my words work together.

Now keep that in mind as you read this portion of the story. It was how I worded everything. The driver kept laughing all the way to my place.

This particular time, I will not necessarily be venting. I was telling the driver about the music genre. It had deteriorated to stupidity.

He asked about what song. I told him I didn't know the song's name. I just remembered a few phrases which were "slap me and tell me you love me, or whip me and I know you love me". He goes I know what song you are talking about. " I told him "it was the dumbest song I ever heard". He said "But it has a good beat". I told him " It is killing the last brain cells of the youth today". The way I said it. He busted out laughing. I let it all go. I said someone really tired of singing tried that stupidity on me. That " I would get a baseball bat and give them a go bang it on the head and say I love you!" If they really needed to hear it.

The driver was laughing . Now he wasn't laughing at the idea that I was going to smack the person with a baseball bat. It was the expressive elevation along with the accent. I used. That made him laugh.

After he finished laughing, he said he had had a bad night because he was not getting any riders. They mentioned they normally do not drive in the area where I live. It just so happened that he was in the area when I texted for a ride.

He said. "I needed a good laugh." He said he hadn't laughed in a long time.

Ecclesiastes 3:4: “A time to cry and a time to laugh.”

He drops me off.

I am walking into the house when he drives by. He rolls down the window. He yelled, laughing, " The song is on!"

I yell back, " Turn that stupidity off, you are killing your brain cells!"

He drives off laughing.

Could this be considered a seed of laughter or a venting of the dumbing down of society?

If the only way a person can express that they love you is through violence. RUN! THE OTHER WAY!

Mr. Steve’s seed throwing

Most of the time, as you get older, you forget a lot of the memories of people you met or places you've even traveled to. This seed-throwing was not even my seed-throwing. It was actually watching another person throw a seed that amazed me and reminded me that we can all be teachers of life.

Life goes by so fast; before you know it, you're on your way to retirement. Because you have been told, since you were probably in your teens, the date of your retirement before you even get a job. The news has been telling you day after day. You should retire at a certain time. You will be told you will never have enough. You need to have millions of dollars to retire, or you won't make it. The panic button is set off in your head before people even get into kindergarten. Students are graduating from High School not prepared to work or even to think about retirement. The ones who are prepared have already decided to retire before they even get a set job. The panic button is set, and people continue to hit that button and be trained to hit that button all the way through their lives until they die. Then, when they died. They leave thousands of dollars to family members who then start fighting over it. Which then is the breakdown of what might have been a happy family, is now torn by someone else's money.

There are people who do not want to retire or have been working as if they were retired all their lives because they found a job. That they loved, and it never felt like work to them. There are those who work because they feel they still have something to teach the youth of today. Sometimes a person can teach by being an example of how they work. I met Mr. Streve about three years ago. He was old in years, and he worked for a Pizza place. I would see him walk in in the evenings delivering pizza. He was an older gentleman who was walking slowly, carrying a pizza. He was as happy as can be. He had arrived multiple times during the day. By the end of my shift, Mr. Steve was still going. As happy as can be. I would see him every day doing the same thing. He asked for coffee. I told him you can have whatever you want out of the store. For free. Out of sheer respect, I had for Mr. Streven. I gave it to him for his dedication to his job. Finally, I asked Mr. Steve, "Why do you work so much?" He said the young people want to work. He said they always quit. So he goes in and covers their shift. I asked him how many hours he works a day. He said he works about ten. I was blown away! Mr. Steve was sure making me feel like a slacker for working eight hours. He said he wasn’t ready to retire just yet. Mr. Steve had to have been at least in his late seventies. I had and have pure respect for that man. Day after day. He would work dropping pizzas. As happy as can be. I found out from a friend that Mr. Steve didn’t need to work. That he had his cats and pizza, and life was good. After seeing Mr. Steve doing this for two years. I didn’t see Mr. Steve as much. Another Pizza delivery person started to stop by. I asked them. “Where is Mr. Steve?” I explained that Mr. Steve deserved a lot of respect for all the work he was doing. He said, “ I know, I learned by his example.” They said, “If Mr. Steve can do it, why can’t I?”

They said Mr. Steve doesn’t have to work as much. He said Mr. Steve said he can finally retire.

Mr. Steve constantly threw seeds every day because of his work ethic, and finally, they started to bloom. So he could retire.