The Older-Lady-Dog-Walking Hour
It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood
After almost eight years of living in Switzerland, I have gone native, and not just because I love mountains, cows, and cheese. I have always been highly organized and punctual, and Switzerland has exacerbated these traits. To wit, my morning walk with our dog, Lenny. Every day like clockwork between 7:45 and 8:15am we set out for our clockwise stroll around the neighborhood, and every day we encounter the same four older1 ladies who, like me, are out with their dogs.
First up is Egon:
Next comes Benjy, a sweet but ailing Jack Russell mix. Benjy’s lady and I take a moment to catch up, and she takes the opportunity to give Lenny many (many many!) treats. Lenny and I then round the corner and wave to the lady out in her yard with her elderly golden retriever (who is so gray he could more properly be called a silver retriever). Last of all, we meet the always smartly-dressed lady with her tiny papillon, of whom Lenny is unaccountably terrified. We shrug, laugh, and exchange a cheery “Schönen Tag!”
We neighbors look out for one another. We share advice and sympathy. Egon’s lady told us about the animal rescue that we wound up using to adopt Lenny. An octogenarian, she sometimes needs her son to come walk Egon for her, and when I see her out and about again, I check in to make sure she is ok. Benjy’s lady condoled with us after our previous dog, Lynn, died. And now we listen and comfort her as she worries about how she, a widow with no children, will cope when Benjy dies.
Mr. Rogers knew that being a good neighbor is good for the soul. This Friday, March 20, is Mr. Rogers’s birthday. As I have argued before, I think Mr. Rogers’s birthday should be a national holiday—a day for celebrating neighborliness and kindness to others. Alas, I am not optimistic that an official Mr. Rogers Day will ever be a thing. With the heartwarming exception of Minnesota, our country seems not exactly to be in a Mr. Rogers mood these days. But we don’t need the government’s imprimatur to honor Mr. Rogers in our own lives and communities. We can strive to emulate Mr. Rogers, this week and always.
The Mr. Rogers Challenge
Our culture loves to optimize and gamify everything. But instead of wasting time, money, and energy on a quixotic quest for immortality or on selfish superficialities like looksmaxxing, why not Mr. Rogersmaxx? Why not try, every day, to do at least one thing to make life better in our neighborhoods? Every one of us has interests and talents we can share.
Do you like to bake? You could be like our daughter, Casey, and make cookies and deliver them to a neighbor who could use a little pick-me-up.
Do you like to take long walks? You could be like our son, Noah, and pick up litter as you go.
Do you have the magic touch with computers? You could be like my husband, Matt, and fix your neighbor’s internet.
Do you love kids? You could be like my mom and keep a stash of Lindor truffles for Linden,2 the little girl down the street.
Do you have a strong back and an even stronger preference for tidiness? You could be like my dad, who used to delight in hauling his neighbors’ debris to the recycling center.
Are you a musician (or a music lover)? You could be like my mother-in-law and organize a series of chamber concerts for your community.
Do you know how to do something cool like juggling, line-dancing, card tricks, a handstand, bread-baking, or weaving? You could be like my friend Anastasia and teach people:
Do you like gardening? You could be like our neighbor and carpet a hill with daffodils:
As for me, I am always getting into deep and meaningful conversations with strangers. A few months ago, I got on the tram to ride it four stops to the bakery. A lady sat down across from me and, noticing my Oxford hoodie,3 said that her daughter was planning to attend a two-week English-immersion program in the UK and was trying to decide between Brighton, Exeter, and Oxford. She was worried because her daughter has a rare muscle disorder.
As readers may recall, Casey also has a rare muscle disorder (what are the odds?!), so I was happy to be able to tell the lady that Casey was doing really well, and that college helped her develop independence as well as her many strengths. We talked a bit more about how important these experiences are, especially for kids who have challenges. And then it was my stop. We promised to pray for each other’s terrific kids and wished each other a good day. All of this in a seven-minute tram ride.
Readers, what is an interest or talent you could share for the Mr. Rogers Challenge?
Negative Virtues Are Still Virtues
Karma is real, or at least it is for me. Remember how, in The Lady in the Line, I heroically resisted my impulse to get angry at a baffled, poky lady and helped her instead? Well, last week I was the lady in the line who was holding everyone else up, and I was the beneficiary of everyone’s patience and understanding.
Noah urgently needed a physical copy of his birth certificate for his new job,4 so I hied myself to the post office, which contracts with FedEx, to express-mail it to him. The postal worker was understandably unfamiliar with FedEx (Europeans use DHL). She also confused Washington DC with Washington State and kept trying to put Noah’s zip code into the wrong box and getting an error message. This went on for several minutes until she informed me that there was no such zip code in Washington State. The penny dropped! I helped her find District of Columbia in the drop-down menu, she put in Noah’s address, and we were finally done.
Meanwhile, the line had swelled to several people, most of whom had heavy packages and/or young kids in tow. They could have been grumpy with me. They could have sighed demonstratively, or muttered imprecations against immigrants and our burdensome problems. Instead, they waited calmly and accepted my apologies graciously. One lady explained the reason for the hold-up to everyone else in line. As I left, apologizing again, everyone waved and cheered! The incident could have been aggravating and upsetting, and instead it left us all smiling.
Even if we don’t have an opportunity for—or don’t feel up to—taking positive action to help out in our communities, we can still practice the negative virtue of refusing to add to the anger in the world. If a lady ahead of us in line is taking forever, if an online troll is raising our blood pressure, if some maniac cuts us off in traffic, if a coworker swipes the last donut in the break room,5 if a child neglects to thank us in what we think of as the correct way, if a friend habitually shows up late, or if anyone commits any other petty annoyance, we can resist the urge to explode in rage. We can take a moment for reflection and a deep breath, we can remind ourselves that it’s not just other people who are annoying and that sometimes the annoying ones are us, we can laugh at ourselves and the irksome situation, and then we can go on our merry way.
How about you, readers? What will you do to honor Mr. Rogers in your own community? Please share your thoughts in the comments!
The Tidbit
Most of you probably know about the moving speech Mr. Rogers gave when he accepted his lifetime achievement award. But it’s worth watching again. Let’s all take ten seconds to think about the people who have “loved us into being.” Mr. Rogers will watch the time.
Do you have tears in your eyes? Me too. So here’s one more way we can observe Mr. Rogers Day: We can thank someone who has loved us into being. Let’s do it right now. Mr. Rogers will be proud of us.
Isn’t it interesting that we think of “older” ladies as being younger than “old” ladies? English is weird!
Linden and Lindor! It’s like the truffles were made just for her!
Noah refers to this as my stolen-valor hoodie. In my defense, I bought it when we visited him one Parents’ Weekend and the weather turned unexpectedly (unexpectedly for non-Brits, that is) chilly and damp. It is a cosy, comfy hoodie!
Why on earth do they need the physical certificate? Noah has a photo and a PDF of it, as well as a passport to prove US citizenship.
And to forestall your question, no, Noah couldn’t get a copy of the certificate himself. He works full-time, and the Vital Records Office is way across town and only open during work hours. Even if he were to waste a vacation day on dealing with this bureaucracy, the certificate still wouldn’t arrive in time. The proponents of the SAVE Act seem unaware—or perhaps they know perfectly well—that obtaining official documents can be an enormous hassle.
We were really looking forward to that donut!
“I’ll watch the time.” 🥹💚
Coming to this super late, but the column makes me think about my new job. I work in a clinic and I’m the person (nurse) who calls patients to come in and I take them to their room. I always greet people with a smile and patience. I aim to come across as friendly. I see the patients as people, not widgets on an assembly line. It makes a difference for them, which sets them up to be helped by our clinic because they feel seen, not defensive. Or at least, that’s my hope. Such a small thing, but how many of us feel routinely rushed at doctor’s appts by a grumpy person hurrying to get us into a room? I don’t like that and don’t want to inflict it on our patients.