Jeffredo

An entertaining video, reviewing the psychological stages of accepting new technology.

The other evening I stopped at the local grocery store, to pick up some food before returning home from my work day. It was a light shopping day. I purchased my goods, loaded them into my truck, and went to return the empty grocery cart. A fella behind me called out, as I was walking back to my truck. Having a sinking feeling that he was going to ask me for money, I reluctantly turned my head to look, but continued to walk toward my truck. Unfortunately my glance committed me to stop. He was about my age, late 30’s. He approached and gave me his sad song and dance, explaining that he had lost his job recently, has a pregnant wife, and was looking for some help so that they could eat tonight. He added that he felt like sh*t for having to ask, and I could see it in his face. Briefly I paused, measuring what he’d shared with me and told him I didn’t have any cash. He said he wasn’t asking for cash necessarily, hinting that food would do. I decided that I would be willing to part with a frozen pizza and gave it to him. He thanked me, shook my hand with sincerity, blessed me with God a couple of times, and then shook my hand again. I sensed his anguish, and told him, “no worries” and wished well. He returned to the bench in front of the store and sat down with his frozen pizza. I got in my truck and drove away.

Half way down the street, it dawned on me that he mentioned a pregnant wife and that I just gave him a frozen pizza, of all things. At that moment, I realized I could do better and would. I have plenty and could share more and turning around felt right to do. Returning to the store, I grabbed my grocery bag and began selecting healthier items to offer: a gallon of milk, a loaf of shepherds bread, and large healthy jar of peanut butter. It wasn’t much more, but it was better. As I approached him at the bench, I told him that I could do better, and shared aloud what more I was offering. He stood up to thank me again, I reached out my hand, but instead, he gave me a hug. I certainly didn’t expect that. And as I walked away, he blessed me some more. I said that I wasn’t big on God, but thanks, and that I was glad I could help. And then he blessed me some more. I gave him a final thank you and goodbye wave and was on my way. I felt good.

My wife has always believed that it is better to give and error in kindness. I’m working on it.

Weeds, towering 8 to 10 feet tall and round, dry, dusty, thick, woody, miniature trees, they stand before me like a resistant army embedded in the field for the long term, determined. Knowing this was a daunting task for any individual, I rented a tractor. Never having operated any yard machinery larger than a lawnmower, I had some learning to do. The sizeable orange tractor had a bucket width of 72 inches, huge tires, seating me up high. At first it was fun, but soon became real work.

This three acre army of weeds fought hard, they tossed me about, threw me into a depression, where I was stuck for awhile, bogged down until I finally figured out how to master my controls; so I thought. The war was not over yet! I was soon back in action. The enemy retreated, leaving softened soil, attempting to thwart my advancement numerous times more. Fortunately I donned a seatbelt, or I would have taken a greater beating and possibly ejected from my station high aboard my mammoth, metal, battle beast.

As I gave pause and looked around, the fields seemed ugly to me, as if bombs had been dropped, exposing the foundations this army had developed for years. Clearly, my beast of war was not a tool for delicately defining the landscape with a gentle touch, but more that of mass destruction. I felt saddened and unsure of my role in this theatre.

This battle lasted the better part of a day, and in the end I felt tired, beaten up, and dirty …very dirty. For the most part, I felt I had won, but they’ll return again one day. Will I be ready for them? Will I be willing to take to arms again?