Wednesday, March 02, 2005

An old man in a new time

On my daily commute I often times find myself running across an old man, in a old car, wearing an old hat. It isn't a car to be proud of, nor a hat to flaunt to friends, but just the same it is his, and he is proud. The brake lights in his car are homemade, additions he decided to do himself, unsatisfied with the normal lights of the machine. For some strange reason I find this oddly comforting. That he has survived without adapting is a testament to him. Alone hunched over the wheel of life, he continues with each passing day, unaware that his day has long since passed. I've never followed him, nor found out where he comes from, that would ruin the picture, the dream, the novelty, the idea. A modern day castle with soaring arches and gleaming windows might welcome me into his real life, where he hasn't adapted to us, we have adapted to him. I would find him rather sheepishly admitting that he indeed is one of us modern men and not a throw back to an earlier innocent time. I prefer to keep the dream. The dream alive, that at once among us lies a simpler time. An unrushed time set to one schedule, the schedule of he, and of he alone. He an old man, in an old car, wearing an old hat, he comforts me in this modern age.


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