Who
is StewartWolmark? I walk down his block every day, on my way to my job on the
main street that intersects the area. He once introduced himself when I caught
a ball that was rolling down his driveway and returned it to the kids playing
on his lawn.
I
see StewartWolmark every day, in a lot of positions. Sometimes he is seeing
kids out of the house. Sometimes he is just standing outside, getting a breath
of fresh air. Sometimes he is weeding the garden. At times, he is washing his
car. Sometimes he is leaving the house with his wife.
I
see his family sometimes. StewartWolmark has a wife and kids, I haven't really
kept track of how many precisely. Like the Train Conductor, I pass and wave and
notice and get sort of attached to the people tht have become a part of my
morning routine.
Who
is StewartWolmark? He is a pleasant part of my life, yet I do not know him and
he does not know me. How many of us really know each other anyway? Like stars
in orbit, we pass each other again and again but never touch. Our paths never
cross. We live in a parallel life road, glimpsing the other every now and then
yet not connected.
IT's
sad, this urban life. In another place, in another time, StewartWolmark and
myself may have been friends. We could have formed a connection that would
allow us to support and help each other. StewartWolmark could have improved my
life in countless ways, and I his. But the city allows just for a wave and a
glimpse. Strangers are not to be approached more intimately. I wonder sometimes
why some strangers turn into acquaintances. We pick and choose by setting,
place, time- and in some cases, we choose the wrong stranger and are wounded.
In another setting, we'd know not just the stranger, we'd also know his entire
family and background. We'd be able to ask his grandmother about him. Or notice
that all his siblings are nasty people.
Although
I see StewartWolmark every day, I do not know him and he does not know me. Our
lives lay parallel, never to meet.
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