Have you ever just sat somewhere (preferably a porch or bar. Also preferably with beer in hand.) and watched people walking by? I have. I always wonder where they're going, why they're in such a hurry (is it the modern phenomenon of "bigger, faster, more" which drives us ever faster or is it simply that we're late to work). Sometimes I like to make up stories or destinations. That tall man on the bus is going to a conference on astrophysics with a brilliant paper tucked away in his tattered saddle-bag. That couple in the Subaru is trying to get to a hospital to see her sister's new baby, but their car is about to break down. They'll make it there eventually, but not without an aura of frustration and subtle hints of grease. That woman is a Brazilian tourist, on her way back to the Motel 6 - only to discover a couple fucking in her room by accident (the accident not being the fucking, but that they're in the wrong room). Will she join in or run screaming to the manager? That cop is about to arrest a flasher in Zilker Park, who'll turn out to be - insert tense fanfare - nothing but a pervy, old flasher.
I can't help being fascinated by people. As easy as it is to get thoroughly sick of humans (ask me about my anti-social binges), its also impossible not to find a sense of wonder, even in the most mundane of human activities (such as heading from point a to point b). I just hope that sense of wonder never fades. I think then, I truly will be a stodgy old man.
