Gradually, then suddenly…

I imagine all towns and cities have one—that slightly eccentric, often misunderstood resident who doesn’t quite match society’s standard of “being all there.” When I was a young girl I remember being fascinated by a fellow who directed traffic with his umbrella at a very busy intersection. Day or night, rain or shine, Hugh always seemed to be at that intersection, dressed in his yellow slicker and rain boots with a rain hat that he tied under his chin. He was a short, stout little man who frantically waved his umbrella and verbally cursed at cars who insisted upon following the traffic signals rather than his verbal ones. I remember my mother telling me that Hugh had some mental problems. Rumor had it that he lived with his very rich elderly mother and she sent him down the street to direct traffic and leave her alone. I was an adult before I learned the truth. Hugh’s father left after he was born and his mother raised him alone in that mansion. When his mother died, Hugh lived in the house all by himself and spent his waking hours directing traffic. The neighbors probably kept an eye out for him and when he died, the community took up a collection and erected a statue of him at the same intersection where he tried to direct all that traffic.

During our visit to Washington, NC, we encountered this fine fellow who was greeting all the locals by name and was being greeted in return. To the casual observer, it was clear this fellow had somehow become the unofficial mayor-of-first-impressions. He, too, seemed to have his challenges, but who is to say who’s “all there” and who is not? As I become more and more disenchanted and disappointed with this world we live in, I can’t help but wonder if perhaps any of us are merely an umbrella or bicycle away from being that slightly eccentric resident that begins to react to the world differently. Perhaps it’s not a calculated move. Perhaps it’s gradually, then suddenly…