The Man and the Duck

One good thing about growing (or being) old is that I've seen many things and met many of people. At an age now where I can make comparisons easily, I've got a knapsack-full of "she's just like what's her name," "he's a replica of someone named so-and-so," and "that's the other thing but in a different shape." The comparisons come so easily and readily now, I often wonder if I'll ever again meet anyone who is truly unique. Oddly, or perhaps not, this phenomenon means that I am seldom disappointed in or surprised by people, though there have been notable exceptions. These exceptions are more gossipy than not, however, so we'll just agree to let that topic drop. A couple of good friends have disappeared over the last few years, which I find more disappointing than surprising since those disappearances were neither announced nor anticipated. Paths converge and then separate, don't they?

My recent lament that I've been stuck between 2 mountain ranges for a long time still rings true, but this is nobody's fault but mine. So, seeing any new places has been on hold for awhile. A couple of half-hearted attempts to get out of Dodge have failed because of a variety of reasons, but with just over a month left of summer, I think that same heart is growing a bit stronger. My friend Tom recently sent me a photograph from a mountain peak, an image that arrived by email about 2 days after I'd spent time thinking I'd like to go climb a mountain (and I now have one in mind). Shawn has been writing and fishing; Kominski's on his way to the Midwest for a week of enjoyment. Good for the 3 of them--the bastards.

But, to end things here, let me tell you about the man and the duck.

A few weeks ago while my car and I were stuck in traffic, I watched a man standing on the sidewalk, his cardboard sign saying he was homeless, had a family, and needed money. The sign also said "god bless you," which I appreciated. As he paced, he was soon accompanied by a duck, a shapely brown duck. The duck was cute. The bird walked toward the man, stared up, wiggled its tail feathers, and seemed to be waiting for something. The man looked down, walked a few steps and turned the sign toward the string of cars. The duck looked down, waddled a few steps, then looked up at the man again. The man said something, and the duck wiggled its feathers. I could not tell if the duck and the man were connected somehow; I had seen one man or another there before, but I had never seen the duck. When the light ahead turned green, I wished that it would quickly change to red again so I could sit in my car and watch. There is a drainage canal near where the 2 of them were strolling, and I wondered if the duck lived in the water there.

I was happy about that short episode. I don't often interact with people on street corners or with ducks, and this was something new and different.