Soul Laundry

Today, a Saturday, I will do my laundry. The BattleWagon has been running well, well enough to deliver me to the coin-operated laundromat in Arvada, Colorado. It's a drive from anywhere logical to where I regularly park, but it was the first laundromat I used when I moved to Denver in 2004, five years ago. It's that comfort of knowing where one came from that helps us face where we are going.  In my case, it's like soul food. It's Soul Laundry.

Soul Laundry is a metaphor for lots of things, I suppose. One could have their own facsimile, like a Soul Couch or a Soul House. I'm willing to bet many a middle-aged or retired male would have a Soul Car or a Soul Quarterback. (Mine's John Elway, but don't tell anyone.)

What is it about these people, places, or things, these Soul Nouns, that are so good for us? Why do we always think back to them for inspiration? Different reasons. in John Elway's case, he was a sports hero to me all the way up to when I was in high school. He led the Denver Broncos to two Super Bowls in a row after more than a decade of mediocre seasons. He was an inspiration in determination.

Then there's my Soul Jeep... dilipated and decrepid. A true direlect. What does it represent for me? Hope. I see it not for what it is, but for what it could be, what I hope to make of it someday.

Sitting here, doing my Soul Laundry, I'm reminded of the courage I had years ago to drop everything and leave my innocent, small town and move to the big city. It renews my courage for my life's present future, captures the optimism that I had when I was 22 years old, and encourages me to keep going.

It's Soul Laundry. It makes you feel goooood.