What A Sad State Of Affairs

In a vain attempt to offset the effects of aging and lifestyle, I try to squeeze some form of exercise into my daily routine.

Sadly, age and beer are winning.

But that's not the point of this post. Instead, it's a commentary on how suspicious we have become of each other. Case in point:

Today I went out for a walk. My usual route is a hike and bike trail that winds through a neighborhood park. At one point the trail passes close to a playground. As I huffed and puffed my way around the trail I noticed that there was a group of young mothers with their kids at the playground. I also noticed one little boy, about three years old, who had wandered pretty far away from the group. He was 30-40 yards away, near the edge of the path. 

The mothers saw me about the same time that the stray boy's mom noticed where he was. She called out for him to return, but he was fascinated by something in the dirt on the side of the path. He briefly raised his head, looked at her, and went back to what he was doing. She called him a couple more times, her volume getting higher and her tone of voice getting more urgent as I passed the playground and advanced on the kid.

At this point I was picking up very hostile vibes from the moms. I was between them and the kid, and about 20 yards past them.

This being South Texas, and only a few miles from the Texas-Mexico border, I figured there was a good chance that at least one of the moms was packing. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt (eat your heart out, yankees), and we were nowhere near a vehicle, so I hoped they would figure out I was harmless.

On the other hand, I'm pretty big (6'1" and around 250 lbs.) and have a beard (neatly trimmed, but still...). And I was bearing down on this kid. He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back and moved to the opposite side of the trail. He stood up and waddled over in front of me. I moved back to the other side. He mirrored me.

The space between my shoulder blades started itching as I imagined his mom assuming her Weaver stance. I decided to stop and let the boy find his way around me back to his mom, which he thankfully did.

A few paces later I came across his Buzz Lightyear action figure, which he had abandoned when his mom called him. I picked it up, turned around, and as harmlessly as possible called out "Excuse me, but I think your son forgot this."

Mom replied "Thanks" in a distinctly non-thankful voice, so I laid it down in the middle of the trail and went on my way.

What is so sad about this encounter is that my first reaction, quickly stifled, was to be friendly and interact with the kid. It was quickly stifled because most American males are now conditioned to approach an unfamiliar child with extreme caution, least they be perceived as some sort of pervert.

Even more sad is that parents view strange men as potential threats. I don't blame the women for their response. I'm a parent too. And when my kids were that age I was watchful as hell. In fact, I'm still that way about my 14-year old daughter, much to her dismay.

But I do regret that we live in a world where their first response is, sadly, justified...