leave the gun; take the cannoli

Today I saw a man standing on the yellow center line on 1268. He was holding a pole. I had just rounded a curve and he caught me off-guard. I expected him to move over, or wave me by, or maybe look up into the sky, nod, and be beamed back up to his mother ship. Instead he just stood there, in the middle of the road, holding his pole.

So I slowly drove up beside him, eying him as I passed him by, wondering if he would step backwards, or ask me to turn around, or tap his pole on the roof of my car and turn me into something unnatural. He didn't even make eye-contact with me until the very last minute, and he smiled at me. It said, "I know exactly what you're thinking, but I don't have to explain myself." On the other side of him, I laughed.

I know now that when I feel crazy for wearing red tights or headbands with flowers on them or my pink jelly shoes because, come on, Heather, you're 23, not eight, I will think of Man on Center Yellow Line (Holding Pole). You're not crazy as long as you love what you do, no matter what anybody else thinks.

"Why mind the fashion? Wear a big hat, and be comfortable!" - Laurie, Little Women