I Got Judged

We often hear: "Don't judge a book by its cover." Then balance that advice alongside: "Always trust your gut instinct." We humans are tribal animals, meaning we pull into groups for survival. This constant awareness to be wary of strangers is wired into our consciousness. If something about another person seems off, our antenna perks up, and we retreat into defensive mode. I was the cause of such a response even though I was only intending to be a friendly, fellow dog lover.

 

The big trend in fitness is rucking, that is, walking extended distances with either a weighted vest or a weighted backpack to add more of a cardio challenge. The term rucking has a military origin because a military backpack is called a "rucksack," shortened to "ruck,"and forced marches with rucks are known as rucking. As a former infantryman, I know quite a lot about rucking.

Although I have access to a weighted vest, I thought it too light and hipster for me so I put barbell weights in my camping backpack in an attempt to turn my morning exercise routine into "rucking."

A few blocks from my house, I ran into a man walking a little girl to school. He had a shiba inu on a leash, and so I approached, saying that I once had a dog like theirs. (My Scout who I lost last May.) The expected response is for the shiba owner to offer an enthusiastic greeting, ask if I want to pet the dog, then we trade favorite anecdotes about our canines. But this time, the man glowered and shied from me, taking a step back, and drawing his daughter behind him. Stranger danger! The man was younger and much taller than me, so I didn't see how I represented a threat. Plus I had kept a respectful distance.

Deciding to leave well enough alone, I continued my walk and wondered what about me had provoked such a suspicious reaction. Then it dawned on me. A short, dark-complexioned man like myself, with a backpack, wandering around that time of the day in a mostly White neighborhood. Who else could I be but a homeless vagrant? 

Despite his display of ethnic prejudice, I couldn't fault him. I've run into plenty of sketchy looking people and you learn, better to misjudge than to be taken by surprise. As a result, I've ditched the backpack in favor of the weighted vest and haven't been turned away since.

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The Days of Our Lives

A running theme here at Type M, understandably, has been our reflections on this pandemic. For me, the disruption has been minimal. As a freelance writer, I work from home so no change there. I'm fortunate, knock on wood, that my clients are weathering the financial storm. Though the lockdown or shelter-in-place or safer-at-home or whatever your local government calls it, has given me a severe case of cabin fever. I can't wait to enjoy a good meal and a cocktail at a nice restaurant. When I walk my dog, it's amusing to see people detour around one another. If you wear a mask, then for some reason, you're given a wider berth.

I've attached a photo of my calendar to show what I had planned for this weekend. Originally, I was supposed to be at Comicpalooza in Houston; however like everything but the virtual online events, that got cancelled. Last Friday, I was looking forward to high tea at a swanky hotel downtown, and that didn't happen. For later that evening, I had a Weird West reading scheduled for the Colorado Book Awards at the BookBar on Tennyson Street. Instead the reading took place via Zoom. We had over seventy people tune in, which was more than the number who usually attend the event in person. As you can see, I also had an interview scheduled with Social Security to review my eligibility for Medicare, and thanks to the magic of the telephone, did take place. The green "Parking" indicates that I have to move my car for street sweeping, but because of the pandemic the city has suspended fining people who haven't moved their rides. The city still sweeps anyway. The decrease in parking tickets represents a significant loss of revenue for Denver but I'm not crying.