Suburban Gullywash

Today I went through a McDonald's drive thru; things have changed in America even out in the glazed plains of the outer suburbs.  Surrounded by immense stores singular in design, ubiquitous in the use of plastic forms for decoration, this McDonald's was an island in asphalt, barricaded by yellow curbs, organized by yellow arrows, and miniature arched signage.

A large semi blocked the first ordering intercom, on its white side was printed a model burger stacked evenly with green leaf lettuce and the slogan "I'm lovin' it".  I scooted around to the second intercom, order given and then around the bend to the first window, which was closed.  It stayed shut until the young man partially slid it open, said, "That'll be $7.06", and promptly closed the window again.  When I waved the money at him, he reopened the window then reshut it tightly, only opening it partway to hand back the change.  On the window was a sign, "No video recording, photographs by camera or cell phone allowed."  They weren't lovin' that.

I drove to the next window, which was shut, I waited a bit for the food person to arrive with the order.  He cracked open the window, scooched the food out, Haveaniceday, and bam.  Closed up tighter than a quahog clam.  Made me feel dangerous, a hoodlum in a 2001 Chevy Cavalier.  Since I am fairly harmless looking, it can be surmised that this has become company policy at this base in the suburban strip mall village.  Go to a McD's in my neighborhood, and there's a chance you can come home with tabs of LSD.  No lie; the manager was supplementing his income at the drive thru.  Ask for Demmie.

But both you and I know why this is happening, go to any video website and type in "McDonald's fight" to witness tantrums fueled by drugs.  Chicken nuggets make people go crazy, they ought to install sprinklers like in the produce section of the supermarket at the order intercom, and load them with dopamine.  Everyone would be happy.  Reports state that the most common drugs in the water supply are Prozac, Effexor, and Tegretol, all mood stabilizers; now that society consumes a packaged, filtered product, we miss the side effects which have the potential to make you see that missing cheese on your burger isn't a personal jab at your shame in not getting what you want.  Drink more water out of the tap, people.

Back in the city, a friend and I walked over to a nearby restaurant for lunch; it was full of people under 35 and felt more like a franchise cutie pie brewery one would encounter out in the 'burbs.  There are several of these establishments, newly built, full of signage with clever sayings, and by clever sayings, I mean something a nine year old with a permanent marker would write on his sister's dresser.  So, is the reverse happening, that the recently developed part of the city is becoming a calming bowl of cornflakes?  Huge resin figures of humans doing funny things inhabit this brewery, lending a carnival merry-go-round atmosphere, with smaller versions adorning the taps.  Whee.  The food was okay, the crowd was okay, you knew there weren't going to be any fights, particularly after a wedding party entered in heels and suit jackets, looking for lemon drop martinis.

On the surface, suburbia looks rather flat and the inhabitants like it that way; the arguments, oddities, and the anonymous are expected to stay within boundaries outlined by expressways and poverty levels.  I can't say I blame folks for being cautious, they only want to get home in one piece; but keeping the upsettedness of people with few social skills out by keeping your windows closed won't deter a frustrated human displaying poor judgment from walking through the front door and launching "Wet Floor" signs over the counter.  You have to learn to deal with life, at least through first-hand observation; do stay out of the dangerous neighborhoods, but come walk a city sidewalk and you'll breathe easier knowing that your intuition will take care of 95% of the problems.

The kids working at the McDonald's looked tense to me, maybe they went through shut-the-window instruction that morning, maybe there was an irate customer raising indignant hell the day before; maybe the drive-thru lines that I've experienced were manned by servers who had seven inch hairpins hidden under their Happy Hats.  It was just different, and I wondered at the transposition of attitudes between city life and the suburban population.

The beautiful, beautiful rain has stopped, and here is the sun nearing the end of day horizon; a walk by the slabs of limestone and chert was lovely as the small waves of the lake and river mouthed at the stoney shore.  I inhabit a pocket of space, only as big as peripheral vision and the depth before me creates; there are no people, I am framed by rocks, the zenith of the sky, and the stretch of water before me, a small slice of world, a narrow vision.  There is peace in it, but lacking anything more than what attributes are held by silent nature until a young brown rabbit appears in the midst of clover at the end of the rocks.  Another mammal, like me; warm-blooded, primate meet lagomorpha, how are the kids?  Visible life changes the ethereal scenery into tangible, solid earth beneath foot and paw; good night, rabbit, time to get back home.

It is a blank, starless night still and covered by low clouds hanging above, full buckets of rain contained within.  Today the rain shushed and shushed against the leaves of the maple trees, coming down in white sheets, droplets uncountable.  Now the ground is soaked, yet in the dark the cool breath
of the earth meanders around corners and trees, over grasses and sleeping rabbits.  Rest well, dream much.  Latch doors, tuck under.  Let go.  Love well.