Delivering pizzas in downtown West Palm Beach, Florida: The Elementary Connection of hands

You feel that itch, that knowing, that sense that something just isn’t quite right? You probably have this feeling when you’re in the company of others who are plopped around the modern American campfire–the TV–and chatting about nonsense like “The Jersey Shore” or some other completely inane and IQ-lowering program.

It’s television, and it’s easy to put your brain on auto-pilot as you shift into 2nd gear on the couch.

Working at Papa John’s, years ago, delivering pizzas, I noticed a common habit shared by both the ultra-rich of Palm Beach and the working poor of the projects in West Palm Beach.

That habit was television.

Almost every delivery I made at night, I’d hear the television on, roaring like a furnace, cooking the invisible marshmallows held in it’s grip.

A pattern
It was almost the same every night … I’d be driving into a housing project off of Australian Avenue, looking for a building number, asking the security guard for help finding it, then delivering the pizza to an older person … sometimes they were in a wheelchair and my heart would break for them I just wanted to say “here’s your pizza, take it, it’s free” … and ten minutes later I’d be at a house the size of small condominium, sometimes off of Flagler, sometimes in Palm Beach … and the doorknob would be this magnificent loop of steel, connected to a door that was probably retrieved from a sunken ship … the door alone would probably fetch a higher price than a used car … and at both places, the housing projects and the modern mansion, the one common denominator would be the television, a muffled bullhorn of canned laughter and politically correct stereotyped sewage.

Although I was delivering pizzas, I felt more like I was connecting the dots among different social groups and different social classes–the poor, the middle, the rich.

Palm Beach Atlantic College
For me, the fun delivery was to Palm Beach Atlantic College, since the college students were generally happy. I enjoyed delivering pizzas to the first floor lobby of the girls dorm. Why? They had a piano in there. Since I had to wait in the lobby for them, I would call them or have a student call them, then sit at the piano and play Out of the Wilderness songs, until they arrived. One night, some of the students asked me about the music and from there, I was given the opportunity to play at the Palm Beach Atlantic Chapel service. Because of a scheduling conflict at the school, it was cancelled.

Inside look
If you want to get an inside look at what people are doing with their time, get a job delivering pizzas. It’s kind of like being a cultural anthropologist, in that you get to witness the common traits and habits shared by people who live ten-to-fifteen minutes from each other.

The grand pageant
Seeing the grand pageant of human nature keep itself inside at night in order to unwind in front of the television, left me feeling sad, and motivated. Sad, because I felt like these people who isolate themselves in front of the TV should go outside and be social. Motivated, because I felt like I could introduce them to each other.

Call me a sentimentalist if you want (Gabe, it’s okay), but I wanted to introduce them. I wanted to take the poor person in the projects and introduce them to the rich lonely person in Palm Beach. I wanted to say “Hey, this person likes the same TV show you do. Maybe you can learn something from each other, or help each other in some way.” I wanted to, and still want to, connect different people and help them learn how they can help each other. I still do.