I have learned a lot sitting at a table in the local diner. Growing up I'd spend many mornings sitting across from my father and sometimes my mom having breakfast at the restaurant nearby. The cigarette smoke and my parents are gone now so I'm either with the Shepkids or by myself.
The one thing I remember my mom telling me was that someday I'll have to put the butter and jelly on my own toast. That day came sooner than I thought....though it doesn't seem like the day can come quick enough that I won't have to cut up pancakes and put syrup on them! "ahhhh, shut up and cherish it Jumbo!"
The lessons I learned from my father were many. I learned more at a greasy spoon than I ever did in a parochial school! How to order from a menu, Proper etiquette, how to treat a waitress and more importantly.... how a woman's mouth and eyes are more attractive than her boobs and butt! That information is for another story on another day.
Today I sat in Michael's Pancake House in Riverside, Illinois. They just opened up as the Covid pandemic came down on us. The diner has become a welcomed business to the community of curvy streets. I was welcomed by a big "Hello Jumbo!" when I entered. Something I earned because my dad taught me to treat people nice.
I sat down socially distanced from a table of two men telling stories about Chicagoland that eyes of older men can only tell. The stories and memories they talked about were a history lesson only found in Nelson Algren or Mike Royko stories. There was another table with a man mumbling to himself. I see this guy on his bicycle often. His bike has full plastic grocery bags hanging from the handle bars and the rest of his worldly possessions strapped behind the seat.
Many cold mornings I would go inside the train station and find him snoring on the old wooden bench. When my train would arrive I'd wonder what his day was going to hold. I knew I would be working hard making a buck at the Chicago Board of Trade, but where would that bike pedal him? It was on the extreme temperature days that made me think about his daily fate.
Last fall my truck broke down and the expense was a little too much for a divorced father to manage. So I was riding my bike more to run errands. I strapped an orange milk crate to the back for grocery runs to Riverside Food! Friends would see me and beep their horn and yell "Jumbbboooooo!" out their car window! I came home after work one day and found an envelope in the mailbox. Twenty bucks and a note that said, "We love seeing you ride around town with your orange crate, but here is some money to help get your truck fixed." Why? Again, because my dad taught me to be nice and nice things will return to you!
The important lesson I learned today at the diner! The difference between the homeless guy on his bike and the Heavyset divorced dad on his bike is very slim! If Warren Buffet or Elon Musk or Bill Gates looked at the two of us bicyclists they'd see two men in the same category. I am much closer to Bicycle Bob financially than any of the millionaires I mentioned above.
Bicycle Bob zipped up his jacket and walked outside to where his bike was waiting in front of Michael's Pancake House. Before he left he smiled at me and mumbled something.... I smiled back and thought to myself.... thank you sir for the lesson in humility! Thank you dad for teaching me the importance of the local diner!