I always try to go ahead. I am a fast walker. I get annoyed when people fail to stand to the right on escalators and moving walkways. John is a slow walker. I included that information in a poem once “She walked faster than her husband. She tried to match her stride to his but she could not so she developed the habit of waiting for him at the next corner – at the next bend – the next bench.” I think most folks walk too slowly. John thinks everyone moves too fast and he takes it personally. “Where are they all going?” he will complain as he motors along on his too short legs. He is shorter than I am but he denies it. I am married to someone who will contest standard measuring devices. It was that rebellious streak that drew me to him so I guess I will just have to go ahead and live with it. Somehow John equates people who walk fast with a conspiracy against short people.
Why do I feel like I have to go ahead of everyone? Could be because I am an Aries…first sign in the Zodiac and all that? Simply put: I hate being late. It you buy into the early childhood development theories my aversion to being late might date back to the time I was sent to the principal’s office for coming to school late. I was in the third grade. It was the day of the Christmas gift exchange. I had drawn Stephen Pool’s name. I liked him. Daddy didn’t have the money for the present until after payday so the first chance I had to buy the gift was the morning of the gift exchange. When I got off the school bus I went to Johnson’s Toys and Gift instead of my classroom. I had to wait for it to open. After it opened it took me quite a while to settle on the right gift. I finally chose a model airplane. I waited longer for the clerk to wrap Stephen’s gift. By the time I got to school it was nearly 11:00. Mrs. Mitchell sent me straight to the principal’s office where I got spanked with a Davy Crockett paddle. Made quite an impression. I am not sure my penchant for punctuality results from that paddling – but it might.