I got a demonstration that what I'd written about entering a room as if no one cares about you works in other situations...
Supershopper Louise walks to and from work down the alley where the drug– dealers and users hang out. She's an old Black lady with health problems, and she uses a walker for distances. She'll load the walker like a donkey with stuff she's bought from the store--(she's a re-distributor)––and sometimes the people in the alley lift her heavy walker over the curb for her.
The other day as a few of us were leaving work, a fight broke out by the alley. The others went on to their cars, but I said to S'shopper Louise, "My bike and I will walk with you."
"That's okay," she said. "I learned a long time ago, living in slums, walk like you belong there, and they'll leave you alone."
"Smart," I said. "But I'll come along and keep you company."
I walked her a couple blocks home, no problem.
The next day, she thanked me.
"I figure we should look out for each other," I said. "Though I know you're fearless."
"I'm not fearless," she said. "I let them do their thing, and I walk on the other side and I haven't had any problems. But I appreciate you walking with me."
__________________
Speaking of walking, this made me laugh:
I got out my notebook from my second Camino (in 2011, I didn't sketch much), and on the last pages I'd written that I ("Frex") had wept because "I hate that this is done". Then I made bink & Marz witness that I would NOT do it again in ten years, when I would turn 60 in 2021.
Walking a second time turned out to be beyond unnecessary--but was I was doomed to walk it every decade, as I had at 40 and 50 years old…?
There's a cognitive bias that applies to travel—we forget long, dull, even painful stretches and only remember the highs. (And this applies not only to travel.)
Do not fall for this ! 😆
Maybe I would have—a longing to go hit me when I turned sixty—
but Covid weirdly saved me by closing the Camino. By the time it reopened, my madness had passed.
