| If
you're looking for a plumber, you won't find Mr. B in the yellow pages. That's
because he's mostly retired at age 75, although he continues to handle a few longtime
clients. Yesterday,
he pulled up in his rusted-out, vintage pickup that he affectionately calls "the
rust tub" and I watched through my office window as he carefully gathered his
tools. Of his truck he comments, "It's old and rusty -- just like me." Our
family first became acquainted with Mr. B after he began retrieving toys and stuffed
animals from our daughter's bathroom toilet. That was more than 20 years ago. Since
then, few have been as loyal to our needs as good old Mr. B. There
was the Sunday my husband drove a nail through a water pipe and Mr. B jumped up
from the dinner table and was here in five minutes. And when our neighbor drove
her car into a tree, I think it was more than happenstance that Mr. B was the
first on the scene to help. He's
the nice gentleman who tips his hat and holds the door open for the ladies, and
you can count on his jokes to put a little giggle in your day. Mr.
B and his truck are a treasured keepsake reminding me that some things in life
never change. Or at least with Mr. B, they haven't yet.
What prompted me to write
this little story was something that happened yesterday as Mr. B was parking at
the back door. On the phone, conducting business with our insurance agent (now
living in another state), I said, "Tom, can you hold on a minute? Mr. B is here
and I need to..." To which Tom interrupted, "Oh, can I talk to him a minute?"
Turns out they were golf buddies. Figured that's something that doesn't happen
much in the big city.
Copyright ©2001 Jeanne Moseley
Waxahachie,
Texas
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