Close Encounters of the Human Kind

There is a protocol to be observed on my lakeside walk. It governs the early morning greeting. Once it is firmly established that you regularly walk, then you graduate from a nod of acknowledgement to eventually saying “Good morning”. After some weeks, you may add a comment on the weather, but that is generally the limit of conversation.

There is one person whom I see often. In my mind, he collects adjectives: suave, debonair, elegant, slim and dapper, which are readily applied to the noun gentleman.

He walks straight-backed and uses a walking stick so elegantly that it seems more a fashion statement than a walking aid.

He sports a snowy white well well-trimmed beard, and I so envied the look that I grew out my stubble to emulate his Edwardian style of well-groomed sides, flamboyant moustache, and a beard softly sculpted to a point.

In winter, he wears a Russian fur hat complete with a red star and hammer and sickle badge. In summer, it is a Panama, brightly banded and cocked at a jaunty angle and if raining a Fedora. All hats are accompanied in style. Russian fur, charcoal grey Crombie overcoat: Panama, linen jacket and trousers, open-necked shirt with cravat: Fedora, a gabardine double-breasted raincoat, belted at the waist. The Panama and Fedora are raised to ladies as he passes. A salute is delivered when wearing the Russian fur.

In the past, our longest conversation consisted of him commenting en passant, “I wish I were brave enough to wear shorts”, leaving me unsure whether it was a compliment or a display of passive aggression.

After today’s greeting, he asked, “Do you use beard oil? Only I have been given some, and being unsure of whether to use it, I thought I would wait until I saw a similarly bearded gentleman.”

I replied that I, too, had been gifted beard oil and was considering using it to maintain shape.

“I visit the beard chappie on Wellfield Road every two weeks to keep it in shape. I am so vain”

I replied that I thought a degree of vanity was permitted when one reached a certain age.

“Ah, yes, but I’m 95 % crackers on top of it! Good day!”