Do What You Do, Do Well, Boy

I met an older gentleman this week at the laundromat. Our washer broke and I was nominated by the clean clothes committee to take care of the weekly washing. In other words, my wife informed me that if I wanted clean clothes, I should drive to the Suds-a-Plenty and take care of business.

So I did what any fully masculine, head of the household, bacon-winning former jock would do. I grabbed a couple bags of clothes and headed to the Suds-a-Plenty! I may wear the pants in the family, but I'm not COMPLETELY stupid!

While I was there, the older gentleman came in and began to use the machines adjacent to mine. He looked like a kind, lonesome old fellow and my heart went out to him. So I struck up a conversation, thinking I would reach out and make his day a little brighter.

We chatted for a couple minutes about the heat and he saw my Celtics jersey, so we talked a little about the NBA playoffs.

And then he asked me a simple question: "What do you do, son?

Easy enough question. I know what I do. I've done it long enough, and have had to answer that question often enough, that I can explain it quite succinctly. So I proceeded to tell him and he nodded understandingly, listening intently.

When I had finished, he thought for a moment and then asked one more question: "Do you do what you do well?"

"Huh? Come again? What the heck? What do you mean, 'do I do it well?' Of course, I do. I couldn't keep doing it if I didn't." I didn't say that. I just thought it. But I think he could read my expression.

And then he repeated himself, and in the process, went from conversing all friendly-like to full-blown meddling. "Do you do what you do well? Do you do it to the best of your ability? Do you do whatever you do 'to the glory of God?'"

(Now side note: don't you just hate it when somebody paraphrases scripture like that? It makes their point so much more dad-blamed compelling!)

What am I doing while he's using the high pressure question probe so expertly? Why, diligently matching socks, thank you very much. This laundry business is NOT a job for the easily distracted. And this looney coot is trying his best to get me off my "no sock left behind" game! (Notice how he's gone from an older gentleman to a looney coot in one fell swoop?)

I've got a sudden impression that I'm not going to be the one reaching out here. I think this old fella may be doing some reaching on his own. And his wingspan is beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. Because I'm not sure I like the answer that is rising up in my spirit.

I think there are certain days and certain times in certain situations when I just might "go through the motions." And that's not an easy admission to make, especially to an older man whose freshly washed underwear STILL looks like he hit a deer while wearing them. So I'm still not giving him any verbal response. But I still believe he can read my expression. Or at least has a good idea what I'm thinking.

As I ponder his question and try to decide how I am going to answer him, he does something that I am totally not prepared for. He thanks me for the conversation, packs up his "clean" laundry, bids me a good day and leaves.

Just like that.

No continuing four-point outline. No more questions. No graphic illustrations. No invitation to his church or offer to purchase his book. Nothing. He just grabbed his basket and walked towards the door.

As he reached for the knob, he turned around, cleared his throat and caught my eye. "Do what you do, do well, boy. Do what you do, do well." He stared at me without blinking, smiled compassionately, and then he was gone.

G-O-N-E. Nowhere to be found.

Not that I went out on the sidewalk looking for him, mind you, but I did have the uncontrollable urge to drop a couple more quarters in the parking meter just as the door closed behind him. And when I got to the sidewalk, he wasn't there. Up, down, left or right. Nowhere. And then I remembered that our town doesn't even have parking meters. Oh well. Where in the world did he go? I had a couple questions that I wanted to ask HIM.

Do what you do, do well, boy.

His sentence structure might not have been the best but his timing was impeccable. And his point rang true in my heart. I can do a better job at what I am doing. I can be more conscientious when people aren't watching. I can try harder. I can offer a better effort. And I can definitely show God that I'm grateful for what he has given me by being more diligent in the things I put my hand to.

Do what you do, do well, boy. Do what you do, do well.

Do you give YOUR best effort everyday? Believe me, I'm not meddling. I'm just asking. I've got some soul searching and fixing of my OWN to do. And I'm determined to do better.

Billy