Amazingness has occurred and you are about to read about it...
As I approach the red light at the upcoming intersection I can see him standing there in the median, slouched over, rummaging through an old bag. I recognize the man immediately with his short, unkept white beard contrasting black skin and an old, worn out, red baseball cap pulled down tight.
Coming to a halt, I roll down my window and wave him over but I receive no response, as he is singularly focused on the contents of his downtrodden bag, possibly most of his personal belongings within. I call out "POPS!" and his head snaps up. I wave him over again, this time he obliges, dutifully.
"How do you know my name?" Pops asks me with a wide, genuine smile exposing a gold tooth. I barely make out the words as he is quite difficult to understand.
Based only on my limited observation, people of the street seem fairly numb to their humiliation, immune to their connection to humanity, and would just assume move on quickly after snatching whatever it is you are offering them.
Pops could not care less about acquiring money from me today. I told him that I recall the name from a tag that he had worn a while back and when I questioned his whereabouts for the past month, voicing concern for his well-being, he beamed brightly and began to answer with words I could not decipher.
To hear someone call him by name was worth much more than a bag of Combos, apparently. I thought he wanted to give me a hug. He did not, for the record.
I did not explain to him why he disappeared or why he suddenly re-emerged, nor did I mention that his fate can be altered by the words I write about him. You and I understand how plausible that is, but to Pops, that would likely sound ridiculous. I did not have the time to explain that there is no other logical explanation for these occurrences.
Again due to our limited time, I fail to mention Jazz Hands as I had promised to. Perhaps tomorrow I will address the hand jazzing and see if he wants to play along. It should be enough that today Pops is slightly less immune to his humanity. I can do Jazz Hands to that...in private, of course.
Day forty-four complete.
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