(May 1, 2023)
how weirdly we walk
shows injury - new and old -
toe-in and toe-out
once I knew a lass who said
she could ell me by my stride*
*(Not a Major from G.B. Shaw but this Barbara of the beautiful red tresses at an unlikely Winn-Dixie grocery-encounter after a few years pf our paths uncrossing brought-about by the demise of a favorite watering-hole spot, once (Jane) Sinko's Tavern, the Cooper's Pub and the lamented late Uncle Nick's, Barbara said she saw me amble ahead of her intent on reaching the beef. "I knew if was you, J," she intoned, "when I saw you walking the parking lot to the store and just had to stop and say hi." And to yourself my dear lady., I replied. But how could you tell from so far: aside from crusty shorts and not-much-better tee, the longish hair and beard both mostly white though I treasure still the occasional black, bronzed-brown, blonde and red strands rising in protest over advancing age, I have lost some luggage over the middle and walk - well the dame as always, I thought. "No," Barbara laughed, her smile brightening a full-shiny sun-day. "Your walk is so distinctive." You mean I walk with both feet pointing almost purely pointed ahead, though I do have a slight inward-incline when increasing the pace? "Oh, J, you are so full of you: always have and I guess always will. In a word: Yes. You walk like none other." Sadly, Barb, the stride has shortened and the amble includes too many catches of sole-on=street crevasses and bumps. Won't need a walker - yet. But now I dream only of the 660-yard dash in which I edged Sterl Weber in the 9th grade on the old Sanford Junior High clay-over-cinder 220-yard oval which had served for the unlamented Seminole High School which shut down to move to Georgia Avenue where a proper 440-yard quarter-mile circuit was ensconced. Named for SHS football great Buddy Lawson after his untimely death on the newly built Interstate 4 spiral-exit ramp onto State Road 50 (Colonial Drive) in the early 60s - sparking memories of another Seminole great Dennis Brown lost in another Senior Year motoring death - as we "Ploughboys" as Winter Park and Orlando high schoolers shrieked at us when we commandeered 27th Street exit at New Smyrna Beach for our parking pleasure. We dated their elder sisters at Rollins College, too, which may have been more the reason for their ire than the football and track and field results. Oh, yes, before I have to run out of town ahead of nervous family, friends and process servers: I cheated Sterl by elbowing my way inside him on that last 60 or so yards of the last event of the President John Fitzgerald Kennedy-led fitness initiative in 1962 - or was it '3? We old codgers have too few new memory cells and thus must overlay, revamp and possibly reinvent our personal movies, donchaknow. Sterl, a massive guy finally moved the high school half-mile mark to 2:00.2 in '66, and was a hell of an football player to boot. Both Sterl and quarter-miler a year or two ahead of us, Barry Barks, also almost broached the ":00 barrier, with a :50.2 time in his senior year at the school's new track. I was privileged to watch both races by both young men. I however, quickly I waddled down the asphalt was built to tour longer distances than what was on offer when I was a high schooler. Only recently did I learn SHS actually did have a cross country team - at least it started my senior year. By then I had sold my soul to the Sanford Herald and was covering Sanford Junior High, and South Seminole Junior High for the Snafu Snaffurd Herald Sprots (intentional misspellings( Sections. So I could concentrate on my distinctive walk-ing style, Major Barbara._
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