This is the parable about the dad and his son at their local hotdog stand.
George and I sat at the picnic bench outside of Parky’s. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon to sit on Harlem Avenue and watch the traffic creep past.
There was an older gentleman sitting at the table behind us who seemed to be loitering. He was wearing an old Bulls t-shirt and long short pants that met tube socks right at his knees. A greasy bag with used napkins and a hotdog wrapper was sitting in front of him. He was fiddling with his empty styrofoam cup.
A beggar was walking between stopped cars looking for change. He was wearing filthy sweat pants and a pilled sweater with warn down elbows. The street beggar was drawn out by what appeared to be drug use. His turn around point when the light turned green was right in front of the hotdog stand.
At some point either the old gentleman or the young beggar will intersect with George and me.
“Hey Big Man, they sure don’t make trucks like that Blazer.”
Betty was parked at the spot closest to the picnic area.
“Was you listening to Miles Davis when you parked?”
If you compliment Betty the Green Blazer and also know your Jazz… you’re alright with me.
The older gentleman was the first to melt into our afternoon stop at Parky’s. He immediately struck up a conversation with George about the CTA. Parky’s is located between the Lake Street to the north and the Congress to the south.
As George and the oldman talked about the el trains the street beggar approached the table. George and his new acquaintance paused their conversation.
Sweat dripping from his temples, he mumbled through his chapped mouth. I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.
“I’m sorry buddy I can’t hear you. The traffic has stopped. You can go back to what you were doing.”
Now that he was standing up close I could smell the decay of drug usage that was destroying his life. He kind of mother fucked me under his breath as he cut between stopped cars back on the avenue.
For the rest of our lunch he starred over when he walked parallel to our table.
George and our lunch neighbor continued their conversation. We ended up talking about music, the Westside, sports and hotdogs.
He stood up and grabbed a cane that I didn’t notice laying next to his lap. He threw his garbage into the trash and thanked us for talking with him.
I had a fin folded in my palm and slipped it to him when I shook his hand. He thanked me and told me that he didn’t know any white men that liked Miles Davis. In a quick moment he was gone.
“He seemed like a nice man Dad!”
I smiled at George and told him to finish his french fries. Tears started dripping from the corners of my eyes.
“Are you sad dad?”
I replied, “Nope…. I just was thinking about Grampa Don…”
Sitting at that picnic bench eating hotdogs with George was something me and my dad used to do. Talking with strangers was something my dad was famous for.
Here is where the lesson comes to play in this parable.
There was an old black man who had lived a long life. Probably faced with poverty and prejudice his entire time. There was a drawn out white kid dying of drug abuse. Probably given an education and a chance in life.
The old Westsider just wanted to talk with someone. He was lonely and needed human contact. The ten minutes he spent shooting the shit with George and I will last a lot longer than the five bucks I gave him.
The panhandler on Harlem expected me to put money in his hand. I have no use for anyone who has lost their soul to drugs. I won’t contribute to his needle.
George won’t remember that I scolded him for ordering ketchup on his hotdog today. He will remember that we took the time to care and respect someone looking for care and respect. He also learned if you take a path towards drugs… you don’t get care and respect.
I’m not a wise Jew from the Old Testament or an Apostle from one of the Gospels. I’m just a dad who likes sitting at a hotdog stand for lunch with his kids. I just want them to grow up and be happy and kind. I want them to remember that Grampa Jumbo was always happy and kind.
August is almost over and we have the second full moon of the month on Tuesday and Wednesday.
Have a gorgeous end of the month and put the smile on the sun.
