Back in January I was on a little adventure with my family. They were visiting from out of town and I had gotten a great recommendation from my friend Grant Wood for this small unassuming “jem” in the middle of nowhere that might as well have been a local watering hole for chicken fried steak and bingo (nothing wrong with either one, just fit the modus operandi of the scene), however much to my prejudgment of the place I was blown away by the simple preparation and presentation of the food. Don’t get me wrong the food was gourmet but presented in a way that even a kid would know how to approach.
The chef/owner was super cool and with a lean (if I remember correctly) “4 band” set up that orchestrated an awesome meal for a friendly group of locals, neighbors and tourists.
I found myself being inspired by the whole place, it felt comfortable and well worn like slipping into your favorite tattered jeans. I guess the food hit my stomach just right because when I got up to use the washroom is when my mind really had something to say to me.
Just as I was getting ready to exit the washroom I was inspired by the dirt that I saw on the wood next to the handle of this old door… Why, I asked my self would the wood around the handle entering this room be cleaner than the one exiting it. I was inspired:
The departure from the washroom –
What is it about the dirt on the door that makes my mind wonder more,
More of a question of how and where did the dirt get there
From whence hands have touched gripping, grabbing and such
The hurried anticipation is too much to take care
what was it out there
That caused such the rush
to open, to touch
What lies on the other side
Muddled deep down inside