Utopian Day 1
I wake to the sunshine cutting through the curtains of the bedroom window. I hear the light wind blowing through the leaves of the big oak tree outside the window. I smell the bacon my wife is cooking on the stove downstairs. I lay there and gaze out the window with pure pleasure.
As I finally move my eyes to the clock, I realize it is 8:30 and I determine it is time to get up and get moving. I sneak out of the bright white comforter and step onto the deep cherry hardwood floor and pick out my clothes from the dresser. I can feel the warm sun against the back of my neck. I step into the master bathroom and turn on the shower.
After taking a long, refreshing shower and clothing myself, I head down the back stairs directly to the kitchen where the Queen has prepared breakfast. As she is placing my plate at the table, I can see her silhouette through the sundress from the light coming through the kitchen windows. I do love her so, and with that light I can’t help myself from holding her. She smells like fresh laundry.
After eating the best breakfast imaginable, I give my wife a quick kiss and head out the door to work. The commute is a killer. The four block walk to the square can be fraught with the dangers of a small town like the one car that comes by the intersection every minute or so.
The temperature today is 65 degrees so it does require my light jacket. I walk past the gas station, the church and the post office before actually arriving on the square. The square in made up of all older buildings fully restored to the splendor of Thomas Kinkade. The Victorian-style courthouse in the center of town was torn down in the 80s. Now, there is a building that looks exactly like the old courthouse on the outside but is an amphitheater used for plays, concerts, fund-raisers and proms.
As I walk around to the North side of the square, the shop owners are setting up their stores and greeting me with a simple “morning, John.” I respond in kind. I walk by the fully restored Magill house (a building I helped to restore with about 100 other volunteers) and pause for the visitors to the hotel/spa to pass.
I continue on to my store and unlock the back door. Today is an exciting day. I want to make sure everything is in order before I finally open the front doors. I walk over to the elevator and take it out of power saver mode. I turn on the escalators leading to the second floor and ride them to the second floor. I think to myself “how cool is it that I own an elevator and escalator?”
As I arrive on the second floor, I head toward the back corner and begin flipping light switches. The pin lighting recessed in the ceiling illuminates the entire room. I open the front shutters on the windows and let the sunlight fill the room. Isn’t it beautiful…an entire floor of music and video. I make sure the video samplers and music samplers are working as they should by doing a quick scan of each.
We have been preparing for this day for months and I want to make sure everything is functioning as it should.
I ride the elevator back down to the main level. I begin flipping the switches again flooding the room with pin lighting from the stamped tin ceiling. The smell of the books is invigorating and I begin to tear up knowing that the dream has finally become a reality. The dark blue background with the oak bookcases contrasting against them makes the floor look like a proper library.
When I hear the back door beep over the security system, I regain control of my emotions and anxiously await my daughter Shae’s entry. She comes skipping into the back entrance looking forward to actually seeing the hard work turn into money in her pocket. I know in Utopia, your kids would normally work for free, but I want my kids to make their own money. So for me, this is perfect.
She runs up to the third level office area to drop off her jacket. The clock nears the 10 o’clock hour, and I begin to worry that the rest of the family may not make it here before I have to open the doors.
It is 10:00. Shae is standing behind the counter. My wife and other kids are not here. I have to open the doors. I move to the front, unlock the door and pull back the blinds to turn the sign and there standing first in line is the Queen, Sydni, Jami and Avery. The line is not huge (about 25 people), but it is big enough for us. The rest of the people in line thought it would be nice and funny if my own family were the first customers.
I gave my wife and kids a big hug and kiss when the customer toward the back exclaimed “Are you open or what?!”
In embarrassment I stood aside and held the door open. “Welcome to Spurgeons.”
Spurgeons is not a new name to Clinton, but it has been missing for a very long time. When I was in high school Spurgeons was a department store in the same building. When I found out that Wal-Mart had gotten the best of the place, I made a vow to open Spurgeons back up. Not as a department store necessarily, but as a store. Other stores have come and gone since that fateful day, but my dream has never faded.
One of my Mom’s old friends came up to me and gave me a big hug and said “I am glad you came back home. Your Mom would be so proud.”
Business throughout the day is not swamping us as much as just busy. The kids (out on Spring break) always headed toward the music and video sections upstairs. Everything is running as it is suppose to and I am seeing people I had not seen for quite some time entering the store and wishing us well.
At 5:00, it is time for me to head home. The store does not close until 9:00, but I managed to have my sister work the evening, weekend and closing shifts so I can do other things throughout the week like bowling and theater.
As I near home, I look up at the pristine architecture of my Victorian house. I walk in through the front door step into the office and check my email. I can smell the pork chops and rice cooking.
I hope all days are like this.
As I finally move my eyes to the clock, I realize it is 8:30 and I determine it is time to get up and get moving. I sneak out of the bright white comforter and step onto the deep cherry hardwood floor and pick out my clothes from the dresser. I can feel the warm sun against the back of my neck. I step into the master bathroom and turn on the shower.
After taking a long, refreshing shower and clothing myself, I head down the back stairs directly to the kitchen where the Queen has prepared breakfast. As she is placing my plate at the table, I can see her silhouette through the sundress from the light coming through the kitchen windows. I do love her so, and with that light I can’t help myself from holding her. She smells like fresh laundry.
After eating the best breakfast imaginable, I give my wife a quick kiss and head out the door to work. The commute is a killer. The four block walk to the square can be fraught with the dangers of a small town like the one car that comes by the intersection every minute or so.
The temperature today is 65 degrees so it does require my light jacket. I walk past the gas station, the church and the post office before actually arriving on the square. The square in made up of all older buildings fully restored to the splendor of Thomas Kinkade. The Victorian-style courthouse in the center of town was torn down in the 80s. Now, there is a building that looks exactly like the old courthouse on the outside but is an amphitheater used for plays, concerts, fund-raisers and proms.
As I walk around to the North side of the square, the shop owners are setting up their stores and greeting me with a simple “morning, John.” I respond in kind. I walk by the fully restored Magill house (a building I helped to restore with about 100 other volunteers) and pause for the visitors to the hotel/spa to pass.
I continue on to my store and unlock the back door. Today is an exciting day. I want to make sure everything is in order before I finally open the front doors. I walk over to the elevator and take it out of power saver mode. I turn on the escalators leading to the second floor and ride them to the second floor. I think to myself “how cool is it that I own an elevator and escalator?”
As I arrive on the second floor, I head toward the back corner and begin flipping light switches. The pin lighting recessed in the ceiling illuminates the entire room. I open the front shutters on the windows and let the sunlight fill the room. Isn’t it beautiful…an entire floor of music and video. I make sure the video samplers and music samplers are working as they should by doing a quick scan of each.
We have been preparing for this day for months and I want to make sure everything is functioning as it should.
I ride the elevator back down to the main level. I begin flipping the switches again flooding the room with pin lighting from the stamped tin ceiling. The smell of the books is invigorating and I begin to tear up knowing that the dream has finally become a reality. The dark blue background with the oak bookcases contrasting against them makes the floor look like a proper library.
When I hear the back door beep over the security system, I regain control of my emotions and anxiously await my daughter Shae’s entry. She comes skipping into the back entrance looking forward to actually seeing the hard work turn into money in her pocket. I know in Utopia, your kids would normally work for free, but I want my kids to make their own money. So for me, this is perfect.
She runs up to the third level office area to drop off her jacket. The clock nears the 10 o’clock hour, and I begin to worry that the rest of the family may not make it here before I have to open the doors.
It is 10:00. Shae is standing behind the counter. My wife and other kids are not here. I have to open the doors. I move to the front, unlock the door and pull back the blinds to turn the sign and there standing first in line is the Queen, Sydni, Jami and Avery. The line is not huge (about 25 people), but it is big enough for us. The rest of the people in line thought it would be nice and funny if my own family were the first customers.
I gave my wife and kids a big hug and kiss when the customer toward the back exclaimed “Are you open or what?!”
In embarrassment I stood aside and held the door open. “Welcome to Spurgeons.”
Spurgeons is not a new name to Clinton, but it has been missing for a very long time. When I was in high school Spurgeons was a department store in the same building. When I found out that Wal-Mart had gotten the best of the place, I made a vow to open Spurgeons back up. Not as a department store necessarily, but as a store. Other stores have come and gone since that fateful day, but my dream has never faded.
One of my Mom’s old friends came up to me and gave me a big hug and said “I am glad you came back home. Your Mom would be so proud.”
Business throughout the day is not swamping us as much as just busy. The kids (out on Spring break) always headed toward the music and video sections upstairs. Everything is running as it is suppose to and I am seeing people I had not seen for quite some time entering the store and wishing us well.
At 5:00, it is time for me to head home. The store does not close until 9:00, but I managed to have my sister work the evening, weekend and closing shifts so I can do other things throughout the week like bowling and theater.
As I near home, I look up at the pristine architecture of my Victorian house. I walk in through the front door step into the office and check my email. I can smell the pork chops and rice cooking.
I hope all days are like this.
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