There is a major difference in how unfamiliar people interact with my brother, Cody Hess, and me. As far as I can tell, though, there is not a good reason why. The most recent example is an encounter I had today with two people from the Highlands Brewing Company in front of me at Webos. In front of me, actually, because I had let them ahead of me to catch up with their horde of colleagues that had gone through before them. I recognised them as being the two people running in the 5K version of the same race I ran at Warren Wilson last year and the same two who had operated the beer truck at the finish line. Assuming it would be a nice addition to merely a smile and hallo at two strangers while we waited for food, I said to them, Oh, you were both at the Riverbound race at Warren Wilson last year. I was running the half marathon. They both turned their faces to me, which I was sure indicated they noticed I was talking directly to them, but both gave me a look that I would expect from someone under the impression that I was a panhandling, odourous, and lice ridden vagabond with a new and highly contagious form of pancreatic cancer screaming in their faces. They both said nothing, I stood slightly at a loss, they collected their food and exited. Cody walks toward strangers all the time I am around him with aggressive friendliness to flood them with questions or comments about the camera they are using, vehicle they are driving, clothes they are wearing, food they are eating, or whatever else you can imagine. The only reaction I have ever seen (minus one crotchety old English man, but Cody did ignore his correction about cordial probably five times whilst chatting to someone on his mobile) from strangers in reaction to Cody is what one would expect it to look like when two long lost friends are reunited. All around the world there are people in every country he has breathed in wanting Cody to come visit them in their homes, desiring to give him whatever his heart desires, yearning for the next moment in which his hyperactive muttering shall grace their ears like the tinkling of golden bells round the neck of a frolicking, precious, little Velveteen rabbit. What is it? What, Cody, is the cause of everyones universal adoration of you? I think you got all the likability genes and I got the dearheavenhelpuswhatisthatcreature genes. It is so utterly unfair, dearest brother, mine. Perhaps your sweat contains secretions of overwhelming attractiveness? Perhaps your state of total hairlessness creates an image of fascination with you as some shiny bright precious object? I long to know the secret of your ways. I envy you with a passion.
Posted on: Wed, 03 Sep 2014 20:47:16 +0000
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