While pushing my daughter on the swings, I observed a man attempting to ride a unicycle over a sea of woodchips. I watched with morbid curiosity as his blood-loss and bruise-count mounted. Part of me longed to reach out to this lost soul. Clearly he was starved for attention. At the very least I could have taught him how to ride that nerdicycle. (Oh the useless skills I possess…) But no, I left the poor cretin, and wandered over to the bleachers to watch Zach play soccer. Having lost his audience, our character got bored, tossed his unicycle under the bleachers, and joined the other parents. Bang! A gunshot! The shattering of suburban innocence? The ultimate angry sports parent? No. The dude’s untouched unicycle tire had inexplicably blown up. Weirdness. The next day I saw our strange bird carving a chess piece (a bishop) out of a random stick with a giant bowie knife. I kept my distance for the reminder of soccer camp.
|Dear unicycle/bowie knife eccentric dude, |
I’m sorry I judged you. In high school I preferred friendlessness over hanging with geeks and weirdoes. 20 years later, I have not evolved. I thought about you today, and have seen the error of my ways. You will eventually read this. Such is life in our small town. Maybe we could hang out. But no Dungeons and Dragons, comic books, Anime, or whatever nerds are into these days. You probably brew your own beer…maybe we could sample your latest batch. Until then…
-Old Man Neill