Monday, 22 May 2017

Muhammad vs The Assumptives

[Note from blogger...It's been said that I have a loose, if not Trumpian, grasp of the truth (likely by a disgruntled former employee of our Nunavut satellite office with an ulu to grind). Well, the truth might hurt if I didn't have such a treasure chest of opioids left over from my back fusion days. Just kiddin’ ya. You think someone on opioids  would have the clarity of mind to craft world-class BS such as this?

I am here to pledge that this entry and all others under the "Parky On The Lamb" banner happened as described - and that these stories have bypassed my blogospheric inflatius, that part of my brain responsible for inflation, imagination, and exaggeration.

As you might expect, these incidents will illuminate both the best and the worst we all have to offer in public. And maybe I shouldn't characterize these as so unbelievable as we all seem capable of both the worst and the best.  I you were to guess that most of my public "situations " were generally negative, you would be correct. In human natures defence, I would suggest that even in the most abhorrent situations the heart of the problem is either ignorance or laziness - the individuals are content to assume and make a snap decision based primarily on appearances. (The guy is drunk, the guY is high, slow, dangerous etc) I am not so fond of labelling groups of people bu I can't help myself - I would like to refer to these people as the "Assumptives". For me, the most intriguing accounts are stories involving individuals who may are old enough to know better - with the most inspiring ones involving individuals whom you would be surprised that they do know better. The latter describes today's adventure.

He passed me on the sidewalk like I was a drug-free Lance Armstrong. I was travelling my usual snail’s pace. Consequently, most of my crashes are of the rather low-speed, unspectacular variety. The director for my biography shouldn't have any trouble finding a stuntman for my role.

Seagal: "So Spiel you're sayin' that all I need to do in this scene is fall off my bike?"
Spielberg:  "That’s right Stephen"
Seagal: "How fast is the bike moving?"
Spielber: "Barely moving, close to a pedestrian speed, possibly stationary."
Seagal: "I hope you got me a Harley this time. I'm fed up with those Japanese imports."
Spielberg; "Sorry Stephen it’s a Trek."

Just as my front wheel caught the edge of the sidewalk, another cyclist was passing. He was young boy about 15 or 16. A ringer for a young Lebron James. From my back on the grassy median, I watched him turn and come back to check on me. He peered down at me like I was an injured animal: 
(Reader now to imagine Little House on the Prairie episode where an empathetic Laura finds a possum with a broken leg, and wants to take it home and nurse it back to health.)

Laura Ingalls: "But Pa, we can't  just leave him here? I promise I'll take care of him. Pleeezee..."
Pa: Half-pint,   just don't forget to poke some holes in the box so the parky can breathe OK?

Muhammad: "You OK man?"
Blogger: "Yeah, I'm fine"
Muhammad: "You sure?
Blogger: Sort of"
Muhammad:"You don't look OK."
Blogger: "Gee, thanks."

Muhammad: "No, I mean, it's just that something isn't right with you."

"There are a few things that aren't right with me."
Have you heard of Parkinson's?
Muhammad: "No.”
Blogger: ”Do you know what Ali has?" His eyes lit up. It was apparent  that he got considerable satisfaction out of sharing the boxers first name.

Muhammad: "I'm worried about you, I want to follow you home."

I put up a minimal fuss as I really did want him to accompany me so  might get to learn a bit about who this extraordinary young man was. Unfortunately, my somewhat less than bicycle rodeo-winning bikesmanship mandated  a single file return. He followed me into my community and suddenly disappeared. 

At an age where most youth are so preoccupied with themselves and their tiny worlds that you'd think they were bloggers  - here is a young man whose world was big enough to include me - his sense of community such that it mattered to him whether I got home safely or not. A young boy confident enough that he would put aside any fears of me, a total stranger. 

Beautiful young man, just beautiful. I would love to see the adult this teen grows into.

No comments:

Post a Comment