Thy Juice Glass and Thy Wash Rag They Comfort Me

In complete candor I must state at the very outset I have not the slightest idea whether God was involved in what I am about to tell of or not. Could just be two giant quinky-dinks. With that disclaimer, here goes.

A few weeks back, at breakfast time, I got a hankering for orange juice. The aforementioned hankering came not out of the blue mind you, but was sparked--like most hankerings are--as the result of seeing some inviting  object of desire. This of course is the very bedrock of all marketing. One sees a gadget and says, "I could really use one of those" or sees a photo of an empty hammock under a palm studded white sand beach and says, "I really need to take a vacation soon."In the present case, the object was a simple plastic jug of orange juice in our fridge; one I'd gotten the last time I'd gone shopping just because while at the store I'd remembered that my wife likes orange juice. We hardly ever buy it--perhaps once or twice a year--because, 1) it is rather expensive and 2) my diet does not allow for sugar-rich drinks of any kind. Nonetheless I'd bought it and now there it was and its very presence gave me a sudden hankering for a splash of OJ to go along with my morning Kashi.

The thing was--is--I am for some reason crazily picky about utensils and things. I only wanted a very few ounces of juice and all our glasses were regular sized. The smallest glass we had seemed at least 3 times too big. I knew exactly the kind of glass I needed--and we had nothing like it. I needed a very small juice glass; the kind I'd had when having brunch somewhere or when having a Continental breakfast at some Holiday Inn Express. You know the kind I mean.

Anyway, the next week, when I was at Walmart, I looked for them. I was so intent on getting just what I had in mind I was ready to buy a whole set. We still had more than a half of a jug of OJ left and it would last us for weeks to come. I could justify the purchase of a package of 4 or 6 of them with the thought that we'd use them for company some time. As if we ever have company for breakfast. As it turns out, they for some reason didn't have any juice glasses anyway. I knew I could probably find one at a thrift store someday if I kept a lookout for one, but that search might take years before bearing fruit. Oh well, I'll just keep it listed on my shopping list as a reminder. Perhaps Walmart will get some in sometime.

The following week as I am cleaning up the alley behind our house (I really want to tell you about the alleys in our neighborhood sometime soon!) What did I see, right there on top of an abandoned TV set, but a perfect-sized little juice glass. It needed washing badly, but was otherwise in perfect shape. Just like the ones I remember at Denny's in the 50's and 60's. I suppose it may have been set there by one of the many recyclers who daily roam the alleys collecting aluminum and recyclable glass.

Here's the whole deal: I desired a juice glass and, within several days of feeling such a 'need', a juice glass appears! How odd is that?

OK--one quinky-dink out of the blue. But check this out: the very next week, after determining that the wash cloth I've been using for years was recycle-bin-bait because the holes in it had grown to be big enough to put 4 fingers through, guess what I found laying in the middle of 4th Ave as I collected trash from around the church? Yup--a white wash cloth. Brand new. Must have fallen from a passing vehicle. TWO quinky-dinks in a row. Both small insignificant things I had simply wanted. I wanted them--they appeared in my path. Weird.

Here is where, if time permitted, I'd wax philosophical/metaphysical about things. But you are saved by the bell. It's late and I must get to bed. More later--as time permits.