Going, Going, Going!
When I was very young, my romance with reading and writing began. I loved every word I encountered, tasting each one as it rolled off my tongue.
One particular word became my favorite, and to this day I love it. Going is the word of choice for me.
I remember as a child when mother began to gather purse and keys I would chortle, “Going, going, going!” Every time we left the trailer was an adventure to me. I loved riding the sleek white Buick into our little hometown. The trees and houses we passed on the narrow two-lane road enchanted me. There were people living in each house who were full of life. I imagined what they did, thought, and said, as I sat on the blue vinyl seat with mother beside me.
We went to the bank, and that fascinated me because money stayed there. Mom would take money in or get some out, and inevitably I would get a lollipop. Those were good days when tellers gave the luscious suckers out, perhaps to make some good association in a childish mind so when one grew older banking would be more palatable.
When we came out of the bank I would shift from foot to foot, “Going, going, going?” Sometimes we went to Grants, the local department store. There were beautiful new objects for me to admire on every shelf. Occasionally Mom bought me a new Pee-Wee doll or Matchbox car while we visited that wonderland.
If I was lucky, Mom stopped at the bright clean new McDonald’s to buy some lunch. What a feast the hamburger wrapped in crinkly paper, and the delicious golden fries spilling from their white paper bag with the famous arches printed on it, were.
“Going, going, going” is to this day tattooed on my mind with the fondest childhood memories. Now, going, going, going is a way of life for most of us. The simple splendor of a trip to town has lost much of its luster in our hustle, bustle world. We go to work, we go to the store, we go out to eat, so frequently and never seem to stand still long enough to breathe.
Hey now, I must let you go… maybe I will see you later… Going, going, going!
Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Copyright July 5, 2000
Chronicles 