Taped To A Mirror

Updated: Jun 16
Taking an extended vacation from weekly posts provided a welcome break. Recharged with a list of new ideas, and a draft outline for my next book, I’m ready to resume writing. I hope you enjoy the new stuff!
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Taped To A Mirror
I started my first big-boy job in July, forty-five years ago.
I remember grabbing lunch on Nicollet Mall in downtown Minneapolis when this crazy street person approached. He was dressed in filthy rags and wearing a crown of thorns affixed with a stick. Dangling from a string at the end of that stick, directly in front of his face, was a crumpled-up wad of dollar bills. Staggering in a zig-zag fashion, he yelled, “Repent, Repent,” while desperately swinging for the money that was just out of reach.
I had just secured a position as a staff economist for The Pillsbury Company. My shoulder-length hair recently abandoned to sport a more conforming look, complete with a new three-piece suit and wing-tipped shoes.
Stopping to take in the freak show, I wasn’t sure who was more out of place between us. The rest of the sidewalk crowd steered clear.
The man approached and handed me a flyer, which turned out to be a manifesto blasting capitalism. In the center of the flyer was a crude caricature of himself, surrounded by small print in a style reminiscent of a bottle of Dr. Bonner’s Pure-Castile Soap.
The street crazy presented quite the juxtaposition. Was he poking fun at me? Had I made the right career choice? I thought so, and yet, his caricature resonated with me. I took the flyer home and taped it to the bathroom mirror as a reminder to keep things in balance.
A half-century passed, and I am sitting comfortably on a couch at the cabin, typing on my Macbook, thinking about that street angel. I wonder how his life turned out?
The message I took away from him was that it’s important to reflect on what we exchange our lives for.
The first stage of mine involved accumulation, things like clothes, cars, houses, and furniture. This undoubtedly continued longer than it needed to. I’m now in the second phase of life, mainly having lost interest in stuff. These days, when our adult children ask me what I’d like for my birthday or Christmas, I can’t think of anything.
The street angel had a point. Material stuff is ephemeral. Before long, my prized possessions will find their way to an estate sale or Goodwill. (I’m looking at you, Martin guitar!). Time is short. I’m more focused on collecting experiences these days.
Admittedly, I came to this insight late. MJ was way ahead of me. While I was taping manifestos and Ralph Waldo Emerson self-reliance quotes to the bathroom mirror, MJ was outlining our bedroom mirror with family photos. She’s been doing this so long that using the mirror for its intended purpose is getting harder and harder. Then again, what better reflection is there than images of our shared experiences with loved ones?
That realization hit me one morning, and I wrote a song. I’ll spare you the audio clip, but here are the lyrics:
Taped to a Mirror
I woke up this morning
To memories so clear
A picture of yesterday
Was taped to the mirror
Through colors now fading
I can see you so clear
Captured in times oh so dear
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Where did the times go
The old folks would say
Why that picture you’re holding
Seems like yesterday
How can six decades
Just slip away
We were just children at play
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This is a story
Of life in its prime
The click of a shutter
Creates shortcuts in time
Their fleeting moments
Have now become mine
As I trace out
Their footprints in time
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We cannot look forward
Nor can we turn back
Our chapter’s been written
With tears, memories track
Of people and places
Remembered so clear
Like ghosts of a kind
Taped to a mirror
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