One of those increasingly frequent days filled with delightful oddities and unexpected encounters has passed.
Been walking a lot lately, being that my main mode of transport – a bicycle – is temporarily out of commission. Slowing down for a little, even the smallest bit, has given me the opportunity to meditate upon the many new directions in which my life is expanding. I took a different route to the train station today, leaving from a local cafe, rather than my house. Walking down a back street I seldom traverse, a peculiar sight presents itself. An old and rather beat up copier (a Canon 6030, to be precise) sits in a pile of its own shrapnel on the sidewalk. I can’t take it back to my house right that moment since I am on my way to work, and besides that, it weighs as much as a small person. I decide to come back after work to get the hulking mess of metal and silicon and plastic.
It is 7:15 pm, and I’ve just arrived home, and am still groggy from the short nap I took on the train. I want badly to go to my room, take off my shoes and socks, and lay on the bed. Still, there is work to be done. That copier won’t move itself, although I have to question how it ended up on a deserted street, at least 150 yards from any discernable structure that would house such equipment. Employing my roomate’s wagon, I strike out to claim my treasure. Intact (mostly) and untouched, the copier sits on the pavement.
I approach, studying the machine, trying to work out how to get this thing ont the wagon and back to my house. An interested on-looker introduces himself by mentioning how blessed by Christ he is, and offers his help. The machine is on the wagon. I begin pulling; it’s heavy, and I’ve got four large city blocks between there and my house.
I pull. I tug. I drag and trudge.
The large copier is in my back yard. I sit down, begin tinkering: testing connections, joints, screws. One of my two roomates pulls into the driveway. I enlist his help to move the mass into the house, into my room.
It sits on the floor, less than six feet from me, waiting. Sitting. Doing nothing, of no value until I do something with it. It once was worth very much, when it still served its purpose. That time has passed though, and now a new purpose gives it new value.
More on that tomorrow. Sleep is creeping in…