Carrying a tray of cookies to work today, I stood waiting for the subway as the crowd gathered around. As the train arrived and the door opened, I paused assuming the crowd would rush into the car and I would follow. Instead, much to my surprise (I even hesitated when one man directed his arm for me to enter), they waited for me to go first. Perhaps the holiday spirit is really in the air…. or perhaps they wanted some cookies.
The lost credit card
Those who wake before the sun know Dunkin’ Donuts is crowded as we wait for our trains. A man held up the line today when, after ordering his coffee, he said, “Listen, I’ve got to tell you something…” The man proceeded to explain that he came in around 7:00 on Monday morning. He was trying to order a dozen donuts, but “the people who work here didn’t speak English. I kept trying to explain that I just want a dozen donuts,” he said. Where is this going, I wondered.
He eventually got the donuts, but then he paid for them. “I had a gift card holder, you know a cardboard thing. I had two gift cards and my credit card, but the gift cards had expired. So they used my credit card, but when I got to work I realized I didn’t have the card holder or my credit card,” he said.
He then explained that he came back last night, but the workers said that they had not seen it. So he went home, when he realized that he had not asked them to check the garbage. “If you wouldn’t mind?” he asked.
Keep in mind that the line is growing while all this is going on, but the clerk agreed to take a look. So he looks in the trash under the counter, goes into the back room, goes up to the front register. Nothing.
“Well, I canceled the card anyway. I was just curious. It was just so confusing because they didn’t speak English. I just wanted a dozen donuts. Thanks for checking,” the man said, and then he walked out presumably to catch his train.
On the counter, he left his cup of coffee.
My brief encounter with Charles Kuralt
CBS recently revived On The Road and it got me thinking about Charles Kuralt. I’ve been relistening to America, in which he shared his appreciation and admiration of the country during a year going around the country after his retirement.
Charles and I crossed paths and conversed for less than an hour, but even the briefest encounters can be meaningful in anyone’s life. During a visit to Los Angeles, Charles introduced himself at outside a hotel bar. “Pleased to meet you Mr. Kuralt,” I said. “Call me Charles,” he said. We spent maybe 20 minutes talking about his travels and his career, then nearing an end. I was just a young man, and he gave me some advice that stayed with me. “Don’t be self-important. A lot of people in this business get wrapped themselves and lose sight of the stories,” he said. If you look back at his body of work, you can see it was advice he lived by.
Our conversation was short, as both of us had others waiting (Fred Friendly and Walter Cronkite were waiting for him). He signed a book for me and he told me to “do what you love until you don’t love it anymore, and you’ll be happy.”
And that was my ever so brief encounter with Charles Kuralt many years ago while I was on the road.
Leaves and Life
Sharing a really nice piece of work by friends, photographer Rob Parker and author and reporter Gerald Kolpan. Hope you enjoy it.
Leaves and Life from Rob Parker on Vimeo.
Waiting for Regis
So I walk outside and this big crowd is gathered waiting for Regis to come out after his final show.
Outside WABC-TV in New York City on Regis Philbin's last day.
I say “Hey everybody!” and everybody cheers, and then someone says “Are you somebody?” Nobody important, I say… then I’m off to grab a slice a pizza. As I come back I see the crowd still there, but I also see Regis crossing the street. He had gone out a side door, sneaking away from the crowd. He’s already across, almost home, when a photographer spots him and starts running after him… the crowd sees what’s happening, and they turn and start running across the street too. I don’t know if they caught up to Regis, but at least I didn’t have to fight my way back into work.
