Sunday, August 25, 2002

yesterday morning we were walking

yesterday morning we were walking the dog through the rose garden in the park - it’s near our home, we see it as an extension of our living space, but are expecially glad to see the world come to frolic and gawk there.  So anyway we’re on our way down the path when we see a typical elderly asian couple, she diminutive and he somewhat stocky, both in sweatsuits and sneakers, like they’re coming back from one of the big tai chi sessions they get going there in the mornings.  She’s walking with a kind of robotic jerkiness, her arms kind of locked at the elbows and her hands rigid and flat, shoulders twisting and stopping with each step like she’s being controlled by strings.  He is leaning way forward with each step, stretching the backs of his legs and letting his face drift toward the ground with big sort of storklike motions.  They’re out of synch with each other, each in his or her own world, adjacent but separate; and separately they noticed us, and the smooth calm concentration with which they were moving began to crumble, they started to restrict their movements as we approached, eventually absorbing the entire gesticulation into an ordinary gait.  These people are at the twilight of life, immersed in a community which holds my opinion as utterly valueless; the dog was not in the least interested in them; I think I embarassed them into not exercising and the guilt is going to destroy me.  They’ve probably earned their paranoia.