walking along jfk boulevard at about 8pm, i see a man half a block in front of me feeling his way with a cane along the empty sidewalk. i see him reach the curb a bit to the left of the place where it slopes down to meet the asphalt. his cane tells him about the drop-off just in time for him to tense his body to halt his forward momentum. he keeps feeling his way to the left, away from the corner, meeting with one parked car after another. by this time i've reached the corner and crossed the street, where i pause to look back at him. wondering how turned around he actually is, i'm just about to cross back over and ask if i can help him when he calls out 'is there anyone around here.' he's looking for the septa station at 16th and jfk, although it turns out there is actually an entrance on the corner where we're standing (17th and jfk). i take his hand to lead him to the top of the stairs. it's white, warm, dry, and softly pudgy. i think he might have been slightly annoyed at having to ask for help, especially at that point after getting so close to his destination (by counting blocks i guess?). maybe i should have asked if it was alright before i took his hand out of respect for his personal space. when i first saw him from a distance i felt a skip of instantaneous recognition, not really articulated to myself in so many words, to 'the blind stripling' in ulysses, whose presence is sometimes only registered in the book with the sound-signs 'taptaptaptap...' it feels funny to be conscious of a book influencing how i process experiences without my intentionally bringing it to bear. funny too since i don't really have a mental image of what a stripling is.
i don't think i've ever really walked a dog before this weekend. somehow seems like something i should have done before the age of 22, although i guess there are alot of simple things i haven't done (like spread fresh fig on toast for instance, or any other fresh mushy fruit like thawed blueberries). the walk itself seemed very purposeful to her (in contrast to arriving in a park where she was somewhat at a loss for what to do), and predominantly guided by her nose. some smells so intensely interested cordelia that she would root herself to the spot until she was satisfied, and had either marked the spot or had decided that the spot was not worthy of her limited supply of pee. the sidewalk as some precisely differentiated territory of dogs had previously been an invisible world to me, and i guess will pretty much return to that state without a dog there to show it to me.
posted by Liza 4.8.03