Home Depot

I finally have the time to arrange cookbooks that have been lying around on a bookshelf that I managed to paint.

We're in that lull at SCAD between quarters. More people from the neighborhood are visible, or at least they seem more so, with the sudden disappearance of art students balancing portfolios and supply boxes on foot, bike, and skate board and the circulation of SCAD busses.

Last night, after talking to my little sister in Maine and watching part of a political talk show, I decided to do a simple errand at Home Depot. I say 'simple' because I'm not much of a night or Home Depot person. I went down the front steps toward my car, and saw a man with bags on both shoulders approaching me.

"Good evening."

Relieved that it was going to be a polite interaction, I said "Good evening!"

He asked me for a dollar.  I told him I didn't have cash on me.

"Well, then, you have some crumbs?"

I laughed a little and got in the car.  My first thought after an interaction like this is, I've got to remember to look around more before going off my porch. The second is, I need to get involved somehow to help out where I live. I think about Weslyn Bowers, who started Blessings in a Bookbag here in Savannah; they give underprivileged kids extra food to take home on weekends. I need to follow her posts on Face Book and see if I can help out at one of her events.

At Home Depot I stand in line at customer service. There's a certain energy and self-satisfaction when you're at Home Depot after around 8 PM on a weeknight. Not only are you a do-it-your-selfer, you're doing part of the job at night, probably after working all day. Most people are at home watching The Big Bang Theory.

Two people work the customer service desk. The older, heavy set man is deeply involved with a customer. I'd seen him there before, and he seems like the grand master of the store. An employee with a long dolly of merchandise paused in front of him -- "Does this go in the back?"  He waited on me when I had a question about the top for a pipe closure. "Well, did you measure it or didn't you?" he scolded.

The younger one came from behind a computer to help me. This guy also takes his job seriously but isn't intimidating. Being a non-evening person, I ask if he drinks espresso before a shift.

"No, it just never stops."

After finishing with me he steps around the register to the next person in line. "Whaddya got?" Without waiting for an answer he looks over the customer's shoulder to start scanning the receipt that the customer's holding.  

I've always admired people who have that complete focus and on-the-job energy; I find myself mesmerized by them. With that focus, people enact a sense of purpose, whether working part-time or at their dream job.

In his commencement address at Harvard this year, Mark Zuckerberg said that our main challenge as a society is to create a renewed sense of purpose. A May 26 New York Times article ("Facebook Chief on the Road") chronicled Zuckerberg's trips around the country having face-to-face conversations with Facebook users. At an opioid addict treatment center he heard about the lack of purpose that the group felt. Purpose, he said, is feeling that there is something greater to work toward, that we're part of something bigger than ourselves.

Within an hour last night I saw two kinds of purpose. The first, I imagine, was to satisfy immediate need. The second was in an unexpected place, for me at least, customer service at Home Depot. If people don't feel purpose in the moment, in the future, and in various dimension of their lives, their well being will certainly fray and that will have ripple effects.

I'm trying to organize my time more by immediate and long-term goals. I can easily lilt one day to the next, especially between quarters without the pull of grading and emails. I'm inspired by my friends, who are hammering away at their own goals. Plus, I've already straightened the cookbooks.