​The Kirby Salesman and Granny

She didn’t have the money. I knew she didn’t have the money, and she knew she didn’t have it, but she was bored. It was Wednesday afternoon, and it was raining at Granny’s house. Worst still, it was raining down at Wewa and Willis landing and the Dead Lakes dam.

Wednesday was our fishing day so Granny and I were bored and more than a little depressed. Cabin fever settles down quickly on a ten year old boy and his antsy Grandma.

So since Granny couldn’t dangle a fish on the end of her line on account of the rain, she figured the Kirby Vacuum Cleaner salesman at the backdoor would have to do. So she invited him in. After all, he promised her a free doodad if she would just let him talk for a spell. She said “Okay, but she didn’t know what she was in for. Lord have mercy, that man could talk up a blue streak.

After he dragged in his demonstration Kirby, shining like a brand new silver dollar, and a couple of bags of dirt for demonstration purposes, he took off.

I was just learning how to play harmonica back then, and I remember thinking that you could keep a tune going without stopping for breath on a harp by blowing out and sucking in; but I had never seen it done while talking. He never paused. He just went on, and on, and on.

Well, after an hour or so, the fella finally paused for effect and asked Granny what she thought of his fine machine. She told him she didn’t think too much of it. It was way too heavy for her taste, and it was way too expensive on top of that and while she appreciated his time, she would stick with what she had.

That didn’t go over well. He was incredulous when he asked “Are you serious, ma’am?” Granny assured him that she was, and after that he started looking at the house like it was filled to the gills with roaches, ants and other creepy crawlies; but he didn’t stop. Nothing could get him off track.

He took a bag of dirt and without so much as a “With your permission ma’am,” he just poured it all out on Granny’s living room carpet. It was about that time that the rain clouds started moving from the outside to the inside of the house. I knew a storm was brewing, so my interest, which had waned a little, picked back up again. 

Well, his machine did a fine job of cleaning up his mess, but he wasn’t satisfied with letting the machine talk for itself. His mistake came when he pointed out that the spot where he had vacuumed looked a lot cleaner than the rest of the place.

When without warning, he poured out the second bag of dirt on the kitchen linoleum, Granny politely excused herself and went into her bedroom. Now I knew that she kept a broom handle and a twelve gauge shotgun in the bedroom closet just in case somebody broke into the house. My only question was, which one she would choose?

As I was carefully backing away from the scene, I fully expected to see her come barreling out of there with all guns a blazing, but instead she came out with her three hundred year old Electrolux following behind her for all the world like a little wiener dog.

She plugged it in gingerly as it tended to spark a bit, and sucked up the dirt that had been so unceremoniously spilled on her floor. Then she re-vacuumed that place on the carpet where he had made the first mess and took obvious pride as she listened to the dirt rattling and ringing its way up the old metal hose and into the canister. Finally, without apology she kicked him out of her house and told him he could keep his doodad. He mumbled something under his breath, but something in Granny’s eye made him keep whatever it was to himself.

I have to admit to being taken back a little, so I asked Granny why in the world she was rude to the poor fella. He was just trying to make a living. 

She said “I wasn’t being rude. I was just giving back what I got.” She continued, “Had he asked me my name when he came in, I would have been a little nicer; but he never did. If he had taken no for an answer when I gave it I might have considered what he had to offer, but he wouldn’t. He just drove on through all the stop signs, and on top of everything else, he wasn’t just rude, he smelled to high heaven. The least he could do was to take a bath once in a while, or is it just me?”

It wasn’t just her.

I am often amazed at what the Lord sends me when I start writing.

I wanted to write a nice, quiet lovey-dovey article about February, Valentine’s Day and stuff like that. I didn’t want any rabblerousing or controversy. I wanted puppies and petunias, sugar cookies and kittens; but with that being said, I have no doubt that the Lord wanted this story told. So why would that be?

Well, the obvious lesson I see in all of this is the simple reminder that a bar of Ivory soap and a Tic Tac just might be two of your most effective evangelistic tools; but I do believe there is something more here.

If you haven’t noticed politeness, decorum and simply acting right has gone out of style as of late, even, dare I say, in the South. From social media and cell phones to politics, I could blame many things for the recent decline in good manners and the like; but the truth is such things simply act as avenues and catalysts for our bad behavior. They are simply tools used by countless folks to hide behind while they act like jerks. I love that word. It encompasses so much.

With that being said, according to our Savior you and I, as the Children of God, are called upon to be the light of the world; and we are to let nothing stand between the light of Christ in our life and the world we are call upon to serve.

So buck the system, be polite, be well mannered and let your light shine.

Love,
Pastor Tony

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