All Quiet

I rejoiced when I found out that I had to work on the night of the last debate. I am a nervous debate watcher and so, I thought, working would be a brilliant distraction.

I was wrong.

Work was slow. Work was not work. Work was simply standing around waiting for customers to show up. I saw three in my department (tents, sleeping bags, and camping supplies) and while I sold 2 sleeping bags and one sleeping pad, I couldn't keep the customers around long enough to make me feel as if I were working.

So I talked with Fred -- the svelte Jerry Garcia who has worked at the store for 37 years.

37 years.

He is an old hippie with a comb over.

He speaks softly and has a permanent smile glued to his face.

He is always positive even in the face of the nastiest customers.

We talked politics last night. Rather, he talked and I listened. Fred makes me feel hopeful.

"Don't worry. Your hours may be slim, but people always buy stuff. Hang on."

And I believed him.

He told me, "Obama's going to win. Nobody wants their grandfather to be president."

And I believed him.

Fred knows a little bit about everything from microbiology to starting a business, from baking bread to the best hike in the North Cascades. He ate a twinkee at break last night and washed it down with ginseng tea.

Fred enjoys life. Every minute of it.

When Fred wasn't able to distract me, there was Phurgel, a small man from Nepal. He was an Everest guide all of his life and now, probably in his mid-30s, he lives in Seattle near the ocean, not near the mountains. "Mountains are enough in my life. Now I like ocean." He goes to school and when asked by a co-worker if he wanted to go on a hike over the weekend he replied, "No, I have hiked enough. Now I wish study."

No wants, just wishes.

And I talked with Marian, the feisty, funny, athletic young woman who carries 80 pounds in a backpack when she goes into the backcountry and brings twinkees into work to share with her fellow employees. Marian bounces on her toes. She never stops moving. She speaks loudly, but confidently. She moves through the store rapidly, finding customers who seemingly appear out of the woodwork.

Meanwhile, the debate was on the television only I couldn't watch it because I was stacking water bottles on the high wall at the back of my department. I asked customers, when I saw them, "You decided to skip the debate tonight?" And I was met with the same anwer, "Oh, is that on tonight?"

I am nervous about the election. I don't know why. I've seen Reagan get elected and survived that. I've seen two Bushes get elected and survived that. I didn't vote for Clinton (Nadar got my vote) and I even survived that, Monica Lewinsky and all. Why does John McCain feel so much more frightening?

I am less nervous after reading the papers today, but I am still nervous. I was nervous last night and looked to Fred to console me.

"It's all going to turn out fine," he said. "It's a waste of time to think any other way."

19 days. I'm imagining myself watching the election results and dancing, rejoicing in the victory of the first African-American president. I am trying to keep myself busy -- walking dogs, taking photographs, writing, baking, and walking more dogs -- to avoid thinking about anything devastating.

Fred said, as I was leaving at the end of my shift, "All will be well. Enjoy the free time. You'll see. All will be well."

And I believed him. I still do.