I do cut off my ear, sir.

In a wintry afternoon on a busy Seattle street corner, the societal rules of conformity and how we collectively impose them are played out for all to see. You know the scene: Busy, bundled pedestrians scurry back and forth and all around. The steady grind of cars and buses goes and goes. It’s late November.
Now  here’s one lonely man who decides to make his presence known.  Casting his sudden voice outward with some obscure  announcement,  the man talks loudly to himself, but really you know he’s addressing the world.
But guess what.
People hurry by and lower their eyes, or stare straight ahead. Don’t make eye contact.  We”ll have no exuberance here is what their silent stubborn plodding says to him. We’ll permit  no  self-expressive outbursts here. We’ve got places to go, obviously, and people to see, but not to see,   you know…thee. Let’s  just keep things as they are; we need to move along here.
And we all agree, you know–we, here on this corner: just shut up and let us stick to the plan here.
Still he persists;  he erupts, seeks to disrupt.
What the guy is saying is not clear, but it seems to be something like:  I am here! Do you hear me? Do you see me?
That is all he’s really trying to say, don’tcha know.
The world wags on.  Who cares? Not me, not thee, as we can see. It’s half-past three.

Three miles from here in a birthing room, one little baby forces his way out of mommy’s hips and plops into the world; Right out of the tunnel he’s raising the waawaa voice so everyone can hear:  I am here! Do you hear me? Do you see me? is all he’s really trying to say.  Who cares?

Well, I do. Lets give the kid a chance. Maybe he’ll do better in this life than the fool on the hill, er…the corner. Maybe he’ll learn how to make his  own way,  how to be responsible, and be  pretty much like everyone else.
A big honkin’ suv trundles by.
Or maybe he’ll be,  like,  a Vincent van Go or something.

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