It’s true. I’m not a fan of McDonalds. There are a whole host of reasons why I choose not to support that particular corporation. And this has kept me out of a McDonalds restaurant for years. For some of the same reasons I don’t support McDonalds, I also try to choose fair trade coffee with the hope that my deicision helps ensure the fair wages of our coffee bean farmers all over the world. For similar reasons, I eat very little meat because of the way our country’s meat-eating habits have contributed to the scarcity of food resources in other parts of the world. I could keep going. But it’s not that exciting and I think it's a little obnoxious and pretentious to talk about this. All I’m trying to say is that one of my strange quirks or refusals usually has behind it a reason—a good reason—rooted in principles. I have a whole bunch of principles. I don't talk about them often, but I like to live by them as long as they don’t offend others. Perhaps they help me sleep better at night; maybe they really do matter.
In theory, people have always been far more important to me than principles. Because of this attitude--and the way new freedom is surfacing in my life this year--I decided to practice this. A few days ago, I went directly against my principles and dined at McDonalds.
I didn’t go because I was hungry or because the commercials looked good or because I feel any less strongly about what this huge corporation has done and is doing in our world. I went because my Uncle Randy works on Thursdays and fills the napkin holders, wipes down tables, and offers smiles and high-fives to customers.
I wasn’t sure if he would recognize me since I was out of context: I wasn’t with my mom who he would instantly recognize, I’ve gotten older and I’ve changed, we weren’t at someone’s house for a family reunion of sorts. But he recognized me and he beamed when he realized I came to see him. I was introduced to every one of his coworkers. He offered me a straw and told me the best beverage to drink and cracked a couple of jokes. He asked me if I made him a CD with all of his favorite worship songs. He remembered that we danced together at Danielle’s wedding and ate hors devours together at Tanisha’s wedding. Uncle Randy is mentally differently-abled. I was humbled that he knew me.
As I sat at a table with Katie, I caught Uncle Randy’s eye a few times and he’d send me a thumbs up and sometimes a wink. He pointed me out to every regular in the restaurant. They smiled and waved to me between bites. I sat there, feeling honored to be his niece, feeling ashamed that it took me this long to visit him in his element.
He gave me a big hug (or four) when it was time to say goodbye and he promised he would give my love to Grandma and Grandpa. I promised I would bring him a CD the next time I came. He waved to me from the window as I jogged through the rain to Katie’s car.
Because of my recent trip to McDonalds, I’m redefining what it means to love people well, in spite of some principles and because of other principles. So far, I’ve concluded this much: I will take a stomach ache any day for a hug and a joke from Uncle Randy.
