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Nobody’s Stereotype

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Almost every day I go for a walk wearing my iPod. Since I don’t have a car anymore, I pretty much need to shop all the time, especially since I still smoke (notice how the need for cigarettes keeps me walking, ergo healthy!) I almost always hit the Shuffle option, so I never know which of my 900-plus songs is going to play. Sometimes I sing along  — I have no inhibitions about my (not very wonderful) voice being heard by other people. I was once told “If the birds worried about how they sounded, the forest would be silent” and I took it to heart. I also walk to the rhythm of whatever song is playing — not on purpose; it’s a reflex, something that just happens. I learned years ago not to keep a song like Kodachrome on my iPod if I didn’t want to have a heart attack.

Anyhow, you get the picture: gray-haired lady bopping around town singing unabashedly at the top of her lungs, dance-walking  to music.

Yesterday my battery died, as sometimes happens, despite my vigilance with the charger. I had to walk home from the bus music-less. When I passed the used furniture store where I always pause to look at the latest arrivals, the owner, a man a little younger than me in jeans and white undershirt, asked with a hearty laugh, “Where’s your music?” I told him of the day’s tragedy, and he laughed some more. His laughter was infectious.

When I walked away, I wondered what the laughter was about. I guess it is kind of funny, Grandma bopping through the streets singing “Everybody Must Get STONED!”

Little old ladies ain’t what they used to be, and we don’t all live in Pasadena anymore.


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