NYC pedicabers are fashionistas

Tonight doing dishes my thoughts turned to a man in Michigan who I knew when he was nine and I was a young father.  It seems we had three phases.  I was a young father, and he was nine, so he saw me as . . . . no one can say.  Then, he found me years later after a hunt, and he seemed relieved to know he could find me, but he needed nothing more, and finally that third phase that is everything since.  I would like to reach out to him, but I have this sense that it would be unwelcomed, so for now, I’ll just blog.  I get the sense at nine something happened that told him I was  . . . I was . . . important enough to hunt later, but the end of the hunt was an anticlimax, so life went on.  I contacted him when I lived in Michigan when I had the sense this young man thought I was great, but the needs of a young person must be primary, and it seems I was serving nothing for him, so life went on.  Maybe his expectations of me and reality never reconciled.  When his expectations were high and when his expectations were not high, I was somewhere in the middle, which is a man aging and maturing and doing the best I can, so now life is moving on, and I know from the dishes until moments after I post, I’ll have a peaceful sense.  Tonight I had another negative interaction with a fellow pedicabber.  He is one I had not seen before, and my, “fellow pedicabber” comment returned, “What is that for?” in a judgemental tone.  He was referring to my card I use to solicit rides, and his comment was typical of a pattern of fellow-pedicabber comments that makes me call NYC pedicabbers, “fashionistas”.  In my opinion this fellow pedicabber would have been better off to bark something across three lanes of Times-Square traffic like I would have said in high school, like, “hey yeah agaa ciao” (I would not have said ciao in high school), but this or other meaningless man-male-nonsense barks would have been perfect for the occasion, but instead I got a judgemental question.  Again, NYC pedicabbers are fashionistas.

About Tom Doody

middle-age American living in New Jersey near the Lincoln Tunnel
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