While I was stopped at a red light this morning I looked off to the right, where there was a Wendy's sign announcing their new wonderful sandwich that I really must try. It's called . . . (trumpets blaring) the Italiana Frescata. The EEEE-tall-eeee-anna Fttttres-kaata!!!
Come on people. IT'S WENDYS. Singles. Doubles. Frosties. Smothered baked potatoes with poured orange cheese and limp broccoli.
WTH? Which brings me to what I (ain't this a kick in the head) was thinking about when I happened to gaze off into no man's land as I was sitting at that red light to begin with. Why is it so difficult to just be who we is? It's sooooo much easier to lead an authentic life. Be an authentic you. Me. Us. Whoever. Wendys.
I was sitting at soccer practice Thursday afternoon and on one side of me was a buddy soccer mom who is such a very authentic person - as far as I know her, that is. She's not a close friend. We don't socialize, but we come in contact frequently through our kids and if there's one way to get a good bead on whether someone is putting on airs or not it's to sit with a group of women when their kids are playing sports - especially when it's not recreation league sports, but sports leagues with certified coaches and tuition/program fees. Trust me on this one. Now this soccer mom buddy and her husband have been living in their home which has acreage for many years, and our bustling county has basically grown up around them, such that now their modest home and acreage for which they paid a modest, reasonable amount many years ago is worth sixteen I say SIXTEEN MILLION DOLLARS, and they are in the process of closing. Next week. She visited with my youngest son during practice, talked with him about the dinosaur images on his shirt, goosed him a time or two.
Couple of the other moms way on the other side of the bleachers couldn't be bothered to do much of anything but talk (loudly enough so that they could be sure and be heard) about their newest BLAH or their latest BLECH and they have the biggest YUCK and I'm pretty sure my son walked by them at least twice maybe three or four times and they didn't smile at him once, much less goose him or notice that he had dinosaurs on his shirt.
Not that I expect them to. Just making a point.
Authenticity. Lots to be said for it. I don't think I'll try the Italiana Frescata from Wendys. In fact I haven't been to Wendys in years. But I do have a real taste for a Frostie......
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