Michael: Tying Someone Else's Shoes

The Los Feliz skunk
Scurries through the neighborhood
In the pre-dawn hours.

Sunday, February 3, 2018

When I rolled the dice and retired early almost 5 years ago at the age of 55 and left a good chunk of my pension on the table, I had a feeling that my working days might not be over. But I wasn’t expecting to be so amused by the irony of the strange arc of my employment rainbow.

Despite being a moderately shy loner, I worked in the quasi-hospitality industry of teaching for 25 years. I taught elementary school in middle and low neighborhoods predominantly serving minority communities. Now at the age of 60 I’m returning to work for clientele at almost the polar opposite end of service scale working as a guide/concierge for the middle aged and  well to do snow white population.

But, thankfully, the irony doesn’t stop there. My first 4 years as a teacher was spent learning the ropes of the craft in first grade. And that meant, on occasion, helping a child tie their shoes.  

Well guess what? Sometimes the old rich and famous need a little help themselves with the laces of their high priced zapatos. Twice this week I showed guests how to tighten and tuck the laces of their new Salomons into the iconic lace garage of that brand.

I could empathize with both groups and I didn’t laugh, at least in their presence, at either. Children are growing and learning and not all proceed at the same speed in acquiring all the different prerequisites of daily living. And I can’t laugh at these adults. I’m getting paid to serve them, not belittle them. Like I said, at least not in their presence.