Fatale Abstraction

I'm still in this silversmithing class, right? I went in Saturday for some extra time in the lab, hopefully without the "benefit" of the nattering nabob who always disrupts class during the regular times. I think I'll offer to pay her tuition if she takes something else next semester!!! OK. So. The lab is located two blocks from Dealey plaza, which is where JFK bought the farm 40 years ago that very day. I drove around the block once and got lucky and found an available parking meter, miraculously. Most people seemed to have it together, but there were others who looked like they were showing up for a booger-eating moron convention. I saw the strangest looking human ever, I think. He looked like he just took his first drink in 20 years, and he was tall with an unusually long neck, but his shoulders sloped down into average-length arms, which hung limp at his side as he walked, not swinging. His gait was that of a chicken. I wanted to stop and gawk, he was so interesting looking, and I felt tremendously sad for him, too. He sashayed across the middle of a street in front of me, so I had an excuse to look at him for that moment, then I tore away my gaze and drove on. I was traveling down Elm, a four-lane one-way street which traverses downtown, and in the middle of a block a couple with a baby carriage walked out into the street and never looked in the direction of oncoming traffic. They stopped in the middle of the street presumably to discuss where to go from there, and they ambled on at an oblique to the other side of the road. I'm guessing they drove in from the farm in Kansas and are unaccustomed to our newfangled city ways-- twenty-first century shit like crosswalks and jay-walking which we just invented in Dallas last week.