Having had great strollers has helped. First the Quinny Buzz and then the Zapp, and now the Britax B-Ready set up as a double with the infant seat adapter. Having portable children makes it easier, too. Bo is generally content to sit in his seat and watch the world roll by, while P. either walks alongside me holding my hand or hops into the stroller's second seat for a relaxing .8 miles.
Now, you don't walk .8 miles round trip - sometimes twice a day - nearly every weekday for two years without seeing some of the same faces. The faces of walkers, sometimes. Or the faces of the nameless people who live in the houses you pass. The faces of everyone who works nearby or takes the train or goes for a pre-work jog. For instance, there's...
Mr. Jean Shorts. Along with his sidekick Wheelie Bag, he has a long way to go. He actually walks down our street every day before heading to the train stop, wearing his slightly-too-short-for-a-dude denim shorts (not cutoffs) and pulling a wheeled suitcase. I figure he must be coming from work. But what profession requires daily denim?
The Couple - aka Miniskirt and Bro - never smile or look at us or say hello. They're both tall and tan and lanky. Nearly magazine perfect but not quite. They're also young, which is probably why they're so wrapped up in each other that we don't even register.
Poodle Guy is an older gentleman who is sometimes walking this ginormous curly black poodle - and once even ran across the street with it because he heard P. say she wanted to meet that dog. Then sometimes he's jogging, which makes me think 'Go, Poodle Guy, go!' because he's not exactly fit and you can kind of tell he's not enjoying it.
And then there's Old Lady Glasses.
She has silver curls and wears, you guessed it, those huge wraparound sunglasses. Not Old Hollywood glam sunglasses. I think hers are meant to fit over a pair of regular prescription glasses. And I think the whole thing - lenses, frames, arms and all - is made of lens material. She is by far my favorite.
Mostly I see her on nice mornings when the sky is a really beautiful blue and the air smells fresh. When we get close, I say "Good morning," and then in her gorgeous gravely Bea Authur voice she replies "What a DAY!"