The Sacred Tree Still Lives
At my store, the lead receiver’s mission is to make sure every item delivered is accounted for. He also needs to make sure refrigerated products come in at the right temperature. If not, they must be rejected. The other day, I encountered him at the back of the freight elevator, checking in a pallet. He was going up and down, with every team member use, apparently to get away from the noise and dust stirred up by contractors who were pounding out the old cement between the double roll up doors and pouring in new.
I said to him “You’re like the man who never returned” and sang “He may ride forever ‘neath the streets of Boston, he’s the man who never returned.” A fellow team member, working in produce, overheard all this and was smiling behind his mask. His daughter is a professional musician and he’s been in bands as well.
“Kingston Trio, right?” I asked.
“I think so,” he said.
I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, so I remembered to google it when I get home. I found out that, yes, it was the Kingston Trio and I listened to a couple of different versions of it. One live, one studio version.
Remember the song?
Well, let me tell you of the story of a man named Charlie
On a tragic and fateful day
He put ten cents in his pocket, kissed his wife and family
Went to ride on the MTA
Well, did he ever return?
No he never returned and his fate is still unlearned
He may ride forever ‘neath the streets of Boston
And he’s the man who never returned
And it goes on, just like Charlie’s endless trip.
I’m hoping that won’t be true for the GratiDude. We’re going on a road trip for a few days, an attempt at a short vacation in the middle of all this tsunami of emotion and uproar, but we’re planning on returning and avoiding Charlie’s fate. However, since I don’t have any staff writers (there’s no GratiDude, Inc. with offices and payroll) and no guest columnists, I won’t be publishing this again until July 16, as I’m taking the advice to really take the time off. It’s been a stressful few months for everyone.
I was struck with this idea from Black Elk, the Sioux Holy Man. “It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives. Nourish it then, that it may leaf and bloom and fill with singing birds.” I need to remember that, we all do, no matter how discouraged we may feel about the mess we’re in right now as a country. The sacred tree still lives.
