In the last like 10-15 years or so the public has slowly withdrawn from each other on a street level pass you by kind of way.
Like in the ways old people are programmed to fear young people, and young people are programmed to be cretins to old people?
How come the only people that I get a smile back from on average are crack heads and crazy homeless people; or to be fair, the little old Greek ladies that seem to be all over my nieghbourhood?
Walking down a hill a few weeks ago I saw a dude pushin hisself up the hill in an old school wheel chair.
Yeah, I kept walking; cause something inside me was like "He'll prolly be offended (Cause everyone is offended by everything now a days.) if I offer him a hand up the hill." and then immediately felt like a Mega-Wanker for being afraid to even extend my voice in connection with this other human for fear of feelings that prolly wern't even there.
So's in thought it begins: Am I a dink?
Looking around I see a guy walking parallel to wheelchair guy up the hill; trying his hardest not to 'be aware' of wheelchair guy as to also not offend him.
But in our process of not being aware of him as to not offend, there is logically, a chance that we are causing greater offense.
In that point and time it became obvious that it wasn't just me being a wanker, but everyone on the street.
In our attempts to not being dinks, we had a group wanker session.
How uncouth.
Anywho; if anyone took the time to experiment they would find results as such:
Walking down the street, of the toughest, most murderous part of town; picking up garbage as you go, then finding strewn about shopping bags, start filling those, until you find a garbage can to deposit them in; for how ever long it takes, will result in: The citizens of that street recognizing you, as a weirdo for one thing, but a weirdo that picks up the garbage on their street, even if you don't live there, and in their recognition of this act; they will in fact, treat you that much better, especially in tightly knit communities, which oddly enough are usually the poor, crime ridden areas of town.
This will entail things such as: Large groups of intimidating huge black dudes parting like the Red Sea for Moses, for you to pass through the side walk. Old ladies with funny dogs not asking you but informing you, that by making a silly face at the dog you were implying you would play with it, and as such, should follow through with your implication.
Which causes more ripples; the giant black guys (Who oddly enough are usually the ones keeping an eye on the neighbourhood to protect it, not commit crimes.) will note the weirdo guy playing with the old grandma and her dog in the park randomly; score 2 points for the home team, you just earned yourself some respect with what could potentially be the most dangerous individual in the entire city.
All because you acted like a goof ball and got down in the dirt with a funny little fuzzy dog.
Don't go over board with it though, or you'll end up like those gofers from Loony Toons.
Often times now, since becoming aware of this; Life seems to challenge me more and more with the initiative.
Example: Walking down the street you see an elderly women struggling up the steps of our home with what will amount to several trips of dangerously stacked groceries.
A) Keep walking to save time? She's 70 and been doing it her whole life, she'll be fine and it's only a few trips up and down the steps.
-or-
B) Approach and politely ask if she would like a hand; it takes you about 45 seconds to get all the groceries inside and about quarter of a chocolate bar worth of physical energy (Working off FOOD=FUEL.); not only have you gotten to see a new house, but you've made a connection with a new person, who you may or may not see in the future, and who may or may not influence things greatly within your realm, even if it is just with a random well timed smile of recognition in a dark time of upheaval.
Ta-daa.
Editors Note: Ironically enough the author failed to take the Common Courtesy of clean language, as some people simply prefer not to see that kind of 'stuff'. Which caused the Editor to have to take time out of his day, to log on, find the note, edit it, re-read it for anything "iffy" and then write this note.
See the ripple?
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