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Truth
stretched
Off the
Wall
Nov. 8,
2007
This is the city, Latrobe Pennsylvania. I know so,
because I live here.
It was a hot day. No clouds were in the sky.
You could feel the humidity in the air. For those who didn't
have to work, it was one of those lazy type afternoons.
I was walking the streets of our downtown business
distinct when I spotted them- three women and two men, standing
on a street corner. I looked around. No one else could be seen.
As I neared them, I glanced up and down Main Street, ahead on
Ligonier Street and even looked behind me as I had come from
my Ligonier St. residence.
All was quiet in the neighborhood, so to speak.
Oh yes, the usual noise of trucks, cars and even motorcycles
interrupted the peacefulness of the day, but we've all come to
get used to that as being normal.
As I got closer I noticed the women were clothed
in dark shaded slacks with light colored blouses hanging over
their pants. The men were dressed in Levis, wearing T-shirts
with lettering spelling out Harley Davidson insignias.
Two things went through my mind. Should I ease drop
and see what they are talking about or go about my way staying
clear of the "gang." Anyone who knows me by now can
tell you, I don't stay away from people shooting the breeze.
Window shopping is always a good tactic to ward
off people's suspicion. Of course, standing and looking at a
beer sign outside a bar may cause those passing by to wonder
what the heck I am up to. So, unless I stroll down the street
a bit, that idea might have to be scrapped.
So the only thing to do was to inch my way closer,
maybe kneeling down to retie my shoelace, that is if I have tennis
shoes on, or waving to motorists going by even though I don't
even know who they are. Let them figure out just who the heck
I am for a change.
It quickly became apparent. A detailed discussion
was taking place. About what or even whom I could not tell. I
had gotten to the place where Mr. Nebby Nose couldn't resist
wanting to butt in and let the vibrations clue me in on what
the big talk was all about.
Carry a Latrobe Bulletin in my back pants pocket,
I pulled it out, leaned against the side of the building opposite
them and pretended to read the obituaries. That wouldn't necessarily
be out of the order, for I daily checked them to see if I knew
of any past clients moved on to higher ground.
I then was jolted by one exclamation. "Yea,
Pee Vee's!" Wow! If that wasn't enough to cause the earth
to shake, nothing was. Now, I felt, I had all the more reason
to listen in. After all, what they were saying was about me.
What were the chances, anyway?
"Did you know that guy who ran that fishing
store is a bit strange?" "How so?" was the come
back. This is where it got interesting. I couldn't wait to hear
what came next. Anybody in my shoes would have not only gotten
closer to hear what would have followed, but even defended himself
if need be.
Here is the real truth of the matter. Was I really
interested to find out what others are really saying about me?
I might sound like a fool to say no. On the other hand, isn't
that how rumors get started that turn into gossip? Before you
know it, the truth of the conversation is being stretched and
who knows what comes of it.
I remember various times people would tell me they
had concluded that the reason I rode a bicycle around town and
didn't drive was because I couldn't afford to buy a car or that
I had lost my driving privileges due to one reason or another.
No one ever bothered to approach me and ask why I don't operate
a motor vehicle. The reason, I have epilepsy.
Someone once told me it has to be acceptable to
gossip because everyone else does it. NOT! Realizing we all have
weaknesses, wouldn't it be better to bring out the positive aspects
of others? That would surely be a step in the right direction,
wouldn't you say?
Paul j. volkmann
08/11/07
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