What was to be improved

I am not really comfortable acting in positions of authority.  It doesn't seem to fit my temperament.  However, these positions must exist for the stable and efficient caretaking of any social or physical structure, and as we gain experience and stewardships in this life it is incumbent upon us to graciously accept new responsibilities and challenges.   So it is that on some Saturday mornings, I don the ceremonial denim and cotton and make the pilgrimage to the temples of home improvement to perform the rituals of home ownership.

The priests who officiate in these temples are friendly and helpful enough, but as any expert in their field they would much rather speak at length with skilled and experienced practitioners.  It becomes apparent that they quickly tire of repeating the simple liturgies to the neophytes and our puzzled expressions annoy them when they have finished communicating the most basic of principles.

I miss the days when I would follow my dad into these massive structures, where he would navigate the maze of relics; select the exact items, their quantity and measurements, and all that was expected of me was to do some lifting and eat the ice cream purchased on the way home.  Don't get me wrong, the ice cream is still purchased, it is just no longer consumed with the same ignorant peacefulness enjoyed by those who are not thinking about how to replace small parts of a spigot.  Or if that person at the Home Depot had just made up the word 'spigot' in hopes of getting other people to think I was using some racially insensitive term.