Yes, the world is in the crapper (as I write this, Notre Dame is burning, the Mueller redaction is about to launch). The news is hella shitty. My life? Shitty. My friends’ lives? Also shitty, with a chance of flaming shitballs in the evening.
That’s why it’s so important to do simple, human things.
Every day, my husband and I kit up the dog (a beagle) and go for our one mile walk. We take 2 different routes on alternating days to entertain the dog. Wind, rain, snow, sleet, hot, whatever. We three walk.
And we wave (the dog wags and has his tongue out in what people interpret as a smile, but you get the point). We wave at cars. We wave at bicyclists, skaters, and boarders. We wave at joggers. We wave at people watering their lawns. We wave at people yelling at their kids. We wave at babies in strollers. We wave at horses, and donkeys, and other dogs (yes, domesticated animals like to be waved at).
We’ve been doing this for eight years in this particular neighborhood. Often, the people used to us start waving before we can get our hands up. Drivers who haven’t seen us before may stare, ignore, or nearly wreck waving back (seriously people, you CAN wave and drive at the same time. Put down the phone). Many honk. My husband always asks, “Do we know them?” “Nah,” I say.
And of course, we know all the other dog-walkers and their dogs. Well, OK, I admit I can never recall a person’s name. Dog names, I always remember. Once, at a wine-tasting, I saw a woman I’d met on the walks. I said, “Hi, Sammy’s Mom!” We laughed. Most dog people have the same problem as I do.
When I was sick and hospitalized, two people stopped my husband and asked where I was. They had never spoken to us before.
When I took on the job of Precinct Captain in 2016, I recognized several people at the Caucus, but it was clear they didn’t know who I was, all dressed up and without the dog. So I introduced myself not as someone who had this and that experience, but as “The lady in the big hat who walks with her husband and beagle every day.” There was a collective “OH!” and then we were all best pals.
I hadn’t really thought about this as a life-long habit. It’s just something I’ve always done, wherever I live. I started walking daily back when I was about fifteen, on the back roads of a small Colorado town. I was an early bird then, and so I’d wave at all the other early birds on the road. I found it improved my mood even more than the serene mountain tranquility.
I’ve walked the roads in Colorado, Texas, California, North Carolina, Arizona, Maryland, Connecticut, Washington state, and now Nevada. Waving and walking.
When we first moved to Reno, I was delighted to discover a professional “waver” in town. Ed Carlson walked the roads of Reno, long staff in one hand, the other hand, white-gloved, always extended out in a big hello. I adored him before I ever knew his name. Many articles were published about Ed when he passed. The whole town felt his loss. I felt he was a kindred spirit, although I never met him.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about people’s reactions. Why do people like to be waved at? Maybe it’s just that someone is acknowledging us? Perhaps we just want to make an uncomplicated connection.
Most of the people who wave back at us are in their 40s or older. I often think they may feel isolated in their suburban fortresses. They like the feeling they are in a village where they are known, and know others (even though most have no idea where we even live). We’ve actually had people stop their cars in the middle of the road to say hello.
Millennials tend to ignore us or avert their eyes. This is not about bashing younger people; I raise this as a different perspective. So far as I can tell, the “stranger danger” thinking is so beaten into them at a young age that a waving person counts as almost an assault on their personal space. Only about one in four younger people reply to our good mornings.
Very young people will not initiate (they don’t say hello first), but will usually say hi, and maybe even ask to pet the dog.
But on the whole, most people smile and wave back, shout hello, or simply smile. For a brief moment, we are together on this large ball of dirt, in the vastness of the universe. We recognize each other as fellow travelers in life.
And just for a moment, life doesn’t feel so shitty.
Go walk and wave, friends. The world needs you to lift their spirits.