Category: Travels Without Charley

I spotted this car parked near a Farmers Market - I walked on, wondering about the owner and what their story was.

Returning a few hours later, I saw a couple of cars stopped at a junction. They weren’t moving and as I got closer saw an elderly man using his feet to propel him and his wheelchair backwards across this small, pot hole riven junction … up a small incline.

I walked over and asked him if he needed any help.

“No thanks. I’m fine.

Are you sure?

“No really. I’m ok … Thankyou.

Pushing harder with his feet for the final assault on the slope.

I waved to him ... ok then ... and kept going. He shouted out.

“Thankyou. Thankyou very much. I’m ok ... really."

I turned around to wav to see him by his car, wrestling with the door to get in, carefully watched by his lady friend, sitting patiently to one side of the road in her wheelchair.

I still don’t know the story of the car, nor it’s owner - but clearly, despite what the car might say to a passer by ... he was a proud, well mannered, graceful man. I really wish I knew his story.

I got my skills very early in life and never looked back. A lot of people in my line of work are ex-military, but I was trained and worked as a civilian all of my life. It's funny when I was at school all the advice I got was about getting a ‘good’ job with a ‘reputable company’. What they meant was ‘large’.

“They come for three months - they stay for four years - and I welcome that. That’s how we learn. They see us up close and personal and we see them. A lot of countries that they come from have very different governments, with different rules. We get to learn about each without the filter of what they are told. I wouldn’t say that when they leave we fully understand each other’s cultures, but we are surely better off than we would have been if we hadn't.”

“We bring people in from all over the world, staff and customers. So, why would we treat anyone differently? Them, Us, Staff, Customers, Family … each one of us is part of another’s world. And I mean all of us.”

“I don’t know much about those large companies you hear about in the news. You could fit our entire community into one of their office blocks. They have their ways. We have ours. So we’re different. Except we’re not. None of us are. They just haven’t worked that out yet.”

“Turns out, we have more in common with ‘foreigners’ - like you” (he smiles and points his finger at me) “than some of the people from our own country. Turns out that the ones that are just here to 'party' are the odd ones out. That’s why we came up with the 'Silly Bugger' rule.”

“It goes like this. When you come here, you can work and you can party. But that’s on your time. If you play 'silly bugger', there is no second chance. You are out on the next boat. That’s how we build and strengthen our community. Everybody is welcome until they make themselves unwelcome.”

“Maybe that’s something else those big companies could learn from us. If they did, we wouldn’t charge. That’s another thing - we don’t charge to learn - learning makes us all better.”

“There is no harm in our criticizing foreigners, if only we would also criticize ourselves. In other words, the world might need even less of its new charity, if it had a little more of the old humility.”

G.K. Chesterton

In a recent newsletter, I referenced a book; Everything I Know About Business I Learned from the Grateful Dead which unbeknownst to me was written by a friend of a friend. Turns out the two friends used to swap Grateful Dead stories and on reading my post this story came to mind. When I read the story, it seemed a perfect addition to my Travels Without Charley series - so please read on and enjoy the first 'guest post' in the series.

One favourite was about a concerned father and his 16 year old son.

"Me? I'm from England ... you’ve heard of the 'Garden of England'?“

“I have - Kent right?”

“That’s the one - and every garden needs a compost heap - that’s the town I'm from, so my girlfriend and I sold everything we had, bought a couple of tickets and here we are.”

Stood to the side of the road, walking stick supporting him. Well kept. Elegant even. Just standing. The traffic constantly passing him by. No slowing down, but then no attempt by him to get them to either.

I slowed down to let him cross. No movement.

I opened the window.

“Would you like a lift?”

"Thankyou." he said. "Thankyou very much."

Slowly walking towards the car, he gets in.

"Much appreciated." he said. "I’m going to 4th street ... is that ok?"

"No problem. Which cross street?"

"It doesn’t matter. Anywhere on 4th. I’m going to the bank."