I pass a girl in an alley today. She is probably a couple of years younger than my second son, so maybe 18. Her brow is furrowed. She is no sidewalk Barbee. This young woman is taking really determined strides, eyes down. She does not look happy. Even my astoundingly cute dog does not raise a smile (almost unheard of, by the way). Poor little thing, I think. I wonder about her.
I’ve been feeling a bit twisted up myself, lately. I know you get it: kids, pets, health, home, job, travel, change, work/life balance, reviewing the past. I could elaborate on these details with regard to my personal life, but I know that you know how completely boring that would be. It’s like reading aloud the Powerpoint slide everyone at your presentation reads in the first five seconds. You know who you are.
I’m not sure why all this stuff is coming together in a big knot right now, and twisting itself into the downtown walks I take with my very aged dog.
I think of the young woman. What caused her concern? Did some guy tell her (mistakenly) that she isn’t beautiful? Has her mom been diagnosed with cancer? Her grandmother–is she alive today? Has she finished high school; does she want to pursue more studies but is finding it difficult? Did she fail her driver’s test? Perhaps she has missed her period?
She ploughs by before I can ask any of these questions. Good thing, too; Woman with oversize Anne Klein sunglasses, filled poo bag in her hand, leading deaf dog, snapping pictures of odd things, approaches attractive and troubled young girl in downtown alley. Yah, just keep walking. Good dog. (He knows what I am saying via our leash antennae.)
But the images I see in these walks are amazingly meaningful pictures; it’s fate, really, how they all twist into their spots. The main thing is, for everyone to collapse on top of one another, laughing.
Alan Levine (@cogdog)
There are a lot, a lot, of walking stories among the people you see downtown. I often went to Zacks for coffee, intending to work on the computer, but often found myself watching people out the window.
I like how you are using the things you see about town as prompts for ideas to write about, and I can sense you are just starting to find a personal writing style that works. Keep on blogging.
Thanks for reading, Alan. You are right about the number of stories living downtown.