By Abe Villarreal

I live in a section of the country that doesn't experience too much of anything in the extremes. No tornadoes or floods. No hurricanes or snowstorms. Cold days feel cold only because we remember how hot the days were before them. Nothing gets ever too anything around here.

Time never moves too fast. People don't rush their words. Fast cars seem fast because everything around them is hardly moving at all. Still, time marches forward faster than we expect. Someone once told me that "time don't wait on no one."

I like living in a place where you know what to expect. Tomorrow will be mostly like today, and that's okay. I like the slowness of life. Slowness when you can catch it. It's there but we are moving too fast to see it.

Most people these days are moving quickly but not going too far. They feel like they have to be somewhere, until they get there. I like to just sit there and wait. Wait to see what happens. Wait to see what doesn't happen.

I like to open doors that don't open on their own. The kind of doors that squeak and cause everyone to turn around to see who has entered the room. I like to wait on coffee to be ready. Waiting makes it a better drink.

I like to walk to the post office because it's only a few blocks from my apartment. Post offices always smell like post offices, and there's always a line of folks waiting to send their packages to faraway places. The new stamps are nice to look at and pick from. You can't all get that from a click of a button.

I like to wait until Saturday to have menudo for breakfast. Having it on Saturdays, and on no other days, makes it an experience, not just a meal. Just because something is there for you at any moment, doesn't mean you should have it.

I like to listen to the radio and wait for the jazz music block to go on at 9:00 p.m. On YouTube, I can listen to jazz whenever I want. It's not the same as listening to it at 9:00 p.m. when you've waited all day for it.

I like to wait until Sundays to read my favorite columnists' writings. Sundays are good for doing that.

People used to live in communities where you didn't have to rush to get to the other side of town. If someone you were trying to catch up with wasn't there when you arrived, you just had to wait. He would be there eventually. Your day was determined by the rising and setting of the sun, not a smartphone.

I think we should return to that. There's a lot to be said about convenience and quick turnarounds. We want what we want and we want it when we want it. Or do we? Maybe we won't want it if we just wait for a little longer.

Let the moment pass you by and see what it brings you.

Abe Villarreal writes about the traditions, people, and culture of America. He can be reached at abevillarreal@hotmail.com.