Doing the Wave…
I remember when my mom turned 29, which is baffling to me at almost 34. My mom, younger than me, and already had a kid old enough to question a questionably adult birthday card (or as double entendresque as Hallmark will allow.) I suppose that’s why I can still hear her say, “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”
I was talking about good mom advice today on the radio, and was inspired to remember the afternoon when, tired of waiting for a small demolition job to be done in the “proper” way by those in the household who are more “meticulous” I cadged her into doing it ourselves.
“Come on! How hard can it be? Get a hammer and we’ll have it done before the “foreman” gets home.”
I was all set to tell that story, but on the way home, I had a bigger Shone birthday victory than DIY demo.
There’s an old guy who I see every night as I ride my bike home. He stands at the window, watching the commute traffic, about a half mile from my house. It’s a snug and cozy looking house, there are always lights on, it doesn’t look like he wants for much — that’s just his perch from 5:00 to 6:00 every evening. He watches.
I noticed him for a few nights, and then began a campaign. When I’d pass, I’d wave. The first few times, his face didn’t change. He didn’t register my greeting at all. After about a week, he began to register confusion, what was this American with streamers on her handlebars trying to do?
Tonight, when I waved, he smiled.
I think I won him over, Shone style.
