7 Oaks is the kind of place that has constants and consistency… and the most reliable thing in the neighborhood is Walking John. In the morning on the way to the shops, or church, or the doctor you will see WJ and in the evening on your return home you will see him again. WJ must walk eight-or more miles a day. He covers all the vu s: Deja, Presque and Jamais. He screws with your perceptions as you think he was already seen (deja) you dimly think he means something but you can’t recall exactly what (presque) and at times he seems strangely unfamiliar though you have seen him hundreds of times (jamais). He is a force in your awareness.
WJ walks with a marked list to starboard, eyes down cast and arms swinging. He sports a cowboy hat and a rather ratty pair of tennis shoes. If movement is life, WJ is living to the fullest. This man is not at all like the stream of aged walkers that pass you every day. He is not being walked by a small irritation dog; he is not merely ambling or promenading. WJ walks like a man possessed-fast and with obvious purpose. Stories that explain Walkin John are many…he was in submarines, he’s had both hips replaced, he lives alone like a hermit, he lives only for the experience of getting down the road.
Whatever Walkin John is, he is certainly a celebrity. His name comes up over cocktails and people speak of him with a true sense of wonder. The sedentary feel guilty when they think of him. As WJ glides along the winding streets his reputation grows.
Strangely, one actually roots for Walking John. You hope that he finally reaches some destination in the near-or far-distance. WJ has become a vital part in your own story…you expect-even hope- to see him regularly. Somehow he makes life in the ‘hood better and richer.
We will never know if WJ is walking toward, or away, from something but everyone enjoys the effort. Onward is a great place to be.
Olio Folio 