Tuesday, December 27, 2011
thumbing it . . .
the day after Christmas i waited for the crosswalk light to transform into the green man, the man who crosses the street with no fear of automobiles running him down, but wait, it was the red hand of stop that caught my eye because it had no thumb, it blinked and blinked and then became stationary, like me, and it's thumbless presence made me wonder if all the red hands of stop were thumbless? How could i have missed this? This four fingered hand that tells me not to go, or go if you please, but i won't say i told you so when you lay there on the rain soaked pavement with tire marks across your belly, four fingers are just as adamant about the stop as five, aren't they? The green man, who walks with his elbows and knees bent at the exact same angle pushed away the thumbless halt who goes there? And I crossed, and forgot the slightly handicapped sign as thoughts of my nephew crossed my mind, the boy who is twelve who already has a mustache and is so much like my husband that Nature vs. Nurture arguments are no longer in question to me - genetics make the man . . . ah, another crosswalk, next to the Mexican restaurant which is busy with families tired of Christmas Ham and this hand of stop owns a thumb and i am wondering who will replace the tiny red bulbs back up there at the corner of King, so the thumb can return? Because, no one can really come to a full stop without the full hand can they?