On the Facebook I noticed a little app that performs a "search" for people with similar names. The premise is you can see how man Yous exist in the world. The app then presents your result like, "You are one of 56 Jeff McGees in the world!" or something lame like that.So, I bit. Why not? I had five seconds for curiosity. I've been told that it's okay to have some fun sometime, so I pressed/clicked the magic button. There was some whirring and computing sounds like in the movies (not really)--and an ad for Google® who sponsors the search--and lo and behold: the Facebook/Google® "How Many Yous" search revealed to me that I am the only Ty Hardaway in the world!
What?! I know for a fact that there is at least one other Ty Hardaway; in Tennessee. I know because I found him using Google® (sometimes I have to Google® myself to find past blog entries that I wrote but cannot locate using Google's® Blogger). The young Ty Hardaway appears to be a high school runner according to the Jackson Sun newspaper. I am mightier than the machines. But I digress, as the kids say.
Who is Ty Hardaway? I'm the guy who chases the litterers down. I'm the guy who watches out for the tenants and interlopers. I'm the guy who shuns the flier distribution mafias. I'm the guy who tries to balance the scales of justice on the local level. Neighbor, Mark, is exactly the same way. You should have seen him shoo some teens who wanted to sit on the greenhouse. This is our town.
Today in the hood
It is dark and raining this morning. People are driving their kids to school and the school parking lot is full up. Hell, even we drove today. No big deal. So the parking lot is full and we have to park in the street. No big deal. We parked in the street and walked in the rain. Life's just that rough sometimes.
I noticed that the minivan that was behind me in said parking lot parked between the last parking space and the street DIRECTLY IN THE CROSSWALK. What this means is anyone walking on the sidewalk has to walk into the street and contend with other lame drivers and buses and such because there is a damn minivan parked in the crosswalk. On this dark and rainy day, to cross the busy school driveway, Minivan Mom has forced everyone else into a busy street. Dang.
Even the B asked, "Why did she park in the crosswalk?" I talked about normative disregard, self-inflation, selfishness, and people so soft they are barely existing (not really). So when we got inside I walked up to Minivan Mom. Her two kids were scattered somewhere, so it was just her and I for one shining moment. She smiled weakly, averted my eyes and said, "Hi." I politely said, "Good morning. You know, my daughter just asked me why you parked in the crosswalk." She smiled some more and indicated that she "didn't know it was a crosswalk."
Look, if she really didn't know it was a crosswalk, then she really shouldn't be driving. Seriously. If that's the case she's worse than the 86 year-old woman across the street from me who was out and about on this dark and rainy day sans lights or wipers. I didn't believe the crosswalk parker since I know she parks at the school every day to drop off her kids. Minivan Mom was reducing dissonance in the light of justice. I considered whether or not she really didn't know and all the data added up to: right-click lie.
I followed with, "Really? You didn't notice all the kids walking in the street?" I didn't want to prolong the malfeasance so I let it stand. We parted with mutual knowing smiles, eyes meeting. She got it.
I guess there is only one Ty Hardaway. Oh yeah, I'm that dude.
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