For a few more weeks, Matt and I will be living in our ethnic little neighborhood...the one without a single restaurant (we do have a Starbucks, or course). We cannot wait to get out of our place, can't wait to never again hear the trash collectors at 3:00 a.m., or the upstairs flush that I've come to call "the dying moose."
What I will miss is the little black man that stands outside the Children's Museum and waves to every single car passing in morning traffic. Has anyone seen him? Adorable!
I was at the bank at IUPUI the other day and another little old black man began chatting me up. We started talking books, and he threw out black authors: Alice Walker, James Baldwin, Langston Hughes. Yes, yes, I know them, I said. The Color Purple was one of my faves, and I told him that if I have a daughter I'm naming her Harper...did he know why? Yes!
Right before the bank teller called me forward, the little man said, "Miss, you have very good diction."
I gave him a wink.
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