As this young thing goes to grab my arm while I'm stepping off
the curb, I let her, but wonder what she sees me as. After all, kid, I've had a whole lot of experience stepping off curbs on several continents, forging across streets, knowing red from green, figuring out what crosswalks could possibly be all about. I've put one foot in front of the other a number of times, and I think I do it expertly and should be given,
perhaps, an honorary doctorate in crossing street by dint of skill and experience. Got that, kid? But I nod and smile.