Mr. Cranky Pants takes a stroll

I blame Sizzle and her A Day in The Cruz. If I hadn’t read that the idea of snapping this clown’s picture might not have occurred to me. But it did occur and I did take his picture, rather poor though it is (through a dirty window on a dull, gray day).

Anyway … I’m at home working and I start hearing someone outside bellowing. Someone was yelling his fool head off in the kind of way you could hear the growing rawness of the throat, you could hear the vocal chords being shredded.

I look outside, and this is who I see. What was odd is that everything about him seemed relaxed and serene. He had a comfortable shuffle in his walk. There were no outraged gestures from the arms – no fists swinging in the air, no stomping of the feet.

But his voice! And what he was saying … It was all “Effng this” and “Effing that!” Something about effing bastards and so on.

And he kept walking up and down the street proclaiming his outrage. Back and forth, his voice would well up as he approached then fade away as he moved off, then well up again as he turned for another pass by.

I would see people cross the street to avoid him as he continued on. I actually called the police to report him – not as a nuisance (though he was kind of that) but because I’m pretty sure he was some guy with psychological issues who may have been off his meds. (I’ve known a few people like that over the years.) He was a long way from what I would consider well and I figured someone ought to check him out to see that he was okay.

I don’t know what happened to him, though. I was caught up in working and he eventually went away.

But I do worry. Could that have been a glimpse of my future? Tramping the streets shouting out my indignation at life? Gad! I hope not!