It began with my pockets.My pockets were always stuffed. My pockets bulged. The inside of my pockets looked like the bottom of an office trash basket. Small pieces of paper stuck to smaller pieces of paper. Receipts wrapped around notes folded into business cards -- all crushed into a shapeless wad that engorged my left and right pant legs. It looked as if I traveled with tuna sandwiches in my jeans.
SAN PEDRO SULA, Honduras -- The flight took off Monday morning, before sunrise, with stars still dotting the Detroit sky. Within an hour, there was breakfast served, cheese omelettes, muffins, piping hot coffee. Newspapers were passed around. Conversations were spirited. Nineteen people, including an NBA coach, a local businessman, airline reps, a TV executive, an ambassador and several journalists, had come together to do some good. Or so we thought. We were bringing supplies to a hurricane-ravaged area. We felt excited, maybe even a little bloated in how benevolent a thing this was.
Although I live in the Midwest, I try to keep up with what's happening on the coasts. You can bet if a hot trend develops in New York or Los Angeles, a few years later we are mimicking it here in the heartland.For example, in the '70s, we didn't know what therapy was, and by the '80s, everyone had a shrink. Just like LA.Or remember a few years ago, when you could buy bagels only in supermarkets, and now you can't drive half a mile without a bagel shop that sells 15 flavors. Just like New York.
The first thing I saw when I entered the Silverdome parking lot Sunday night was a Lions fan leaning against his car. He had a bag over his head.This was not an encouraging sign. As headgear goes, the bag rates low on the sports list, behind the rainbow wig, the big piece of cheese, and the beer cans with plastic sucking straws. Still, I had to wonder how many fans would be there at all -- including Mr. Baghead -- if Barry Sanders were not on the team.
Let me tell you about my neighbors.On one side, in a tri-level house, are Morty and Josie, who have two kids. Josie has big blond hair and wears frosted lipstick. Morty is the life of the party, always laughing and smoking a cigar.On the other side are Jay and Shirley and their three boys. The boys play football at the side of the house. Whenever they get any spare change, they put it in a cup in the kitchen so that one day they can buy a swimming pool.
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.