Bacon Scrapins – “That ‘Grounded’ Feeling”
by Barry S. Wolfe
Bacon Scrapins are the little bits of meat left in the greasy fry pan. They’re tasty, but the ‘nutrition’ needs searching for. This tale is a bacon scrapin.
Twice a week my wife and I drive into the city to play pickleball at the recreation complex. We get some vigorous exercise, a release for our aging competitive spirits, and a chance to meet and chat with new people.
Several of the folks we play with live nearby in the high-rise rental apartments. They wax eloquently about being within walking distance of a variety of stores and walking paths into wooded areas, and of their views across the city from the 15th or 23rd floors.
There are also the tales of the parking garages and storage areas. They’ve related anecdotes of having a high security chain and lock combination on their bikes to thwart thieves. It seems the thieves are up to date and when faced with a lock that can’t be sheared or cut through with their portable grinders, they push metal into the lock to jam it. The thieves then return over a period of 2 or 3 nights and take all the various parts – wheels, handle bars, chain, gear mechanisms – taking a little bit each night. There’s nothing the bike owner can do, because they can’t get their bike free from the jammed lock either. All that’s left in place is a forlorn frame, which they leave damaged behind them.
The scars are emotional and psychological – never knowing how safe they really are in their own lofty paradises. They seem to shrug it off as, “That’s just part of life in the city!”
When we drive home, out of the city, to our ‘nine-stop-sign’ sized community in the country, we pass through undulating country-side with large open fields divided by slim lines of trees or bordered by extensive bush lots. Partially hidden in a low area at the end of a farm drive are chicken barn complexes and a farm house. Scanning the horizon are numerous other houses and barns spotted across the rolling distance.
As my view wanders I consider what the folks living there are doing at that time of day? Feeding animals, milking, clearing manure, repairing machines for the fields, preparing food for the next meal? Inoculating? Helping with birthing of calves? Supervising children during at-home learning on the computer? Checking the futures’ markets for their commodity of interest? Participating in an on-line auction?
Never in my imagination, as our car rolls along, do I consider that any one of them is planning a next theft.
The city folks can keep their high-rise apartment views. Living in the country gives me a sense of calm, optimism and personal security. That ‘grounded’ feeling!
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