to run or not to run

I was waiting for the bus this morning, standing where my street hits the main street.
The bus driver must have been pre-occupied ( they often have long and emotional calls on the phone ) so it didn't stop but a fair ways away when the driver realized that I was there waving my arms frantically.

I jogged as best a septuagenarian can to get to the bus not wishing to make the passengers suffer from a long wait, and got on the bus and all was well when I got a seat and finally caught my breath.

And then I noticed that at the stops where people were waiting for the bus, and mostly gringos and mostly in my age bracket, none of them were jogging to get on the bus,  quite the contrary. They all seemed to take their time getting on, counting pesos and slowly making it down the aisle to a a seat.
What, I wondered, what in my make-up makes me think that I have to be so concerned about others?

Nobody else is.

In the future, if the bus decides to stop a distance away from me, I shall walk, composedly and with dignity, to the bus and get on without risking a heart attack from unseemly jogging.

After all, the bus is here to serve me, not the other way around, or is that too Gringo-ish for Mexico?

brotherly love

On  a lighter note there is a series of photos making the rounds on the webs; charming idea of a couple of brothers reenacting pictures from their childhood and youth. Both are now adults.

A lovely idea as it goes but if you scrutinize it a little closer there are flaws.  As I said these guys are now mature young men portraying their much younger and much less inhibited selves.  

I cannot but note that they, the guys of today, have felt that they must sport big and macho beards for no reason that I can see other than that many of the poses of the much younger guys of yesteryear were loving and cuddly and very intimate.

What better way to shush any nasty thoughts about the masculinity of these guys but for them to sport big and wild beards when taking the poses of the loving children they once were.

Cynical ?   You bet.