How Much a Dollar Cost?

Earlier tonight after work I went into a CVS near my house to pick up a quick prescription when I came across a gentleman trying to do the same. The only difference was that he couldn’t pay for his.

I didn’t really tune into the conversation until I heard him give his birthdate. “Twelve, thirty-one, fifty-nine.” The guy’s got a New Year’s Eve birthday. Then I noticed him getting frustrated because he didn’t have enough cash to get what he needed.

At first, he was trying to get ten pills for $17 and change. He didn’t have insurance, and he kept saying his cousin was supposed to come through for him.

Then he asked about five pills. $8 and change.

Then just one. $3.50.

All he could afford was just the one pill. He had a crumpled up Lincoln in his pocket and that was it.

gohjo-andy-goh-photogohjo-charlotte

As I approached the counter, I gave my name, DOB, etc. and then I asked if I could pay for the gentleman’s medicine. After a quick glance and a nod to her coworker, the lady behind the counter said yes. She motioned over to the gentleman and said that I was paying for his medicine.

I quickly paid, shook the man’s hand and told him not to worry about it. As I was walking away, I heard him yell “thank you” over my shoulder. I turned around and could see that his demeanor had changed from frustrated to grateful. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he reached out to give me as genuine and heartfelt of a hug as I’d had in a while. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m so sick.”

“It’s hard out here for all of us, and we can use all the help we can get. God Bless you, sir.” I replied.

The gentleman, still holding back tears, walked on his way and I walked on mine. We might have been two different people, but in that moment we were two people just helping each other make it through the day.

I helped him with his meds. He helped me see the hope for mankind that I like to believe in despite daily evidence to the contrary. The $8.38 didn’t mean much to me, but it meant the world to him.

All this happened after I had just been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s “How Much a Dollar Cost”, a song about the high price of poverty. The answer to that question varies depending on who you are. If you’re like me, and you have resources, that dollar might not cost much to you, but it can literally make a world of difference to someone in need.

Thoughts on the 2017 Solar Eclipse

eclipse-gohjo-charlotte-2017

Just moments after the moon had begun its shift past its darkest point (98% here in Charlotte), people celebrating the 2017 solar eclipse at Camp North End here in Charlotte began looking around as if they pressed the Dr. Pepper button on the soda machine and it spit out an RC Cola.

“Is that is?” a slightly befuddled crowd thought in unison.

That was, indeed, it.

There was no blackout, no wide swath of darkness blanketing Uptown Charlotte, where I watched the event. That 2% gap makes quite a bit of difference, as people just 90 minutes south of us in Columbia and surrounding areas actually got to see midnight in the afternoon.

eclipse-gohjo-charlotte-2017

There’s nothing wrong with being a bit underwhelmed with the whole spectacle. There was an enormous build up on social media, and that brand of hype rarely lives up to its promise. I’m sure some people bailed on work and felt guilty that they missed out on prime work flow hours. All totally reasonable.

To me, it was a moment I’ll never forget.

In the days leading up to the eclipse, it was clear that this was the only story that was able to provide some emotional relief from a week’s worth of heinous images from Charlottesville. People slowly but collectively put down their differences in order to make plans to watch the eclipse. Google searches for specially-certified glasses and watch locations soared.

eclipse-gohjo-charlotte-2017

And for a brief moment on an otherwise hot and steamy Monday afternoon, everyone stopped what they were doing, gathered together in groups and marveled at a natural phenomenon that maybe isn’t once-in-a-lifetime rare, but definitely remember-where-you-were worthy. Snacks and drinks were shared while paper sunglasses with shiny silver lenses and necks craned high in the air made everyone looks equally goofy. Many people had homemade viewers, constructed out of cereal boxes, no doubt a memorable science project.

As for me, I found myself marveling at how the sun, reduced to just 2% of its strength, still lit our little part of the planet quite brightly, with the temperature still toasty. A testament to life’s indomitable will to live, I’d like to think.

It’s fitting that it takes an event of literally cosmic proportions to get everyone to forget about the daily grind of work, family, and world news and appreciate the natural beauty all around us. The beauty of giant, celestial objects intertwined in an unbelievably precise two step. The beauty of this display happening in a way that visibly reminds us of our trivial size relative to the universe. And the beauty of people of all backgrounds putting everyday worries behind to come together and enjoy it all.

Moments like that only come around so often.

eclipse-gohjo-charlotte-2017

I stuck around a little while longer after most people had cleared out of the boiler yard at Camp North End. Just as it had on its way up, I took periodic glances at the moon as it made its way past the sun. The eclipse was something I hadn’t ever gotten to see to that degree in my life, so I wanted to get the most out of it. With my corneas intact (as far as I can tell), I look forward to 2024, when the next eclipse makes its way through the US, and hopefully close to my hometown of Bloomington.

Until then I’ll always remember the random day in late summer 2017, where even a country that is as volatile and chaotic as ever, could come together, put on silly glasses and enjoy a natural spectacle.eclipse-gohjo-charlotte-2017