How Insensitive

It is 6:30 AM. Pitch black. So wintry cold that the snow crunches underfoot like stale crackers. Hilary and I are en route to my factory job.

She blurts out, "Watch out! Do you see him?"

A lone cyclist rattling over the icy pavement. Charcoal ski jacket and toque. No bike lights; no reflectors. An accident waiting to happen.

"That dummy is gonna get himself hurt; and others with him." I straighten out my path and eye-ball him in the rear view.

"Easy Doug I don't think that boy has any choice in the matter. No car obviously. Probably can't afford regular bus. This is his way to a job...and through all kinds of weather. Feel that wind shake the car!"

I am significantly silenced by the truth of this.

Into the factory. Hit the time clock. About ten minutes before our new metal worker arrives. Walking through this cold for about 25 minutes from his new apartment shared with the Girlfriend. Woolen toque, woolen gloves, scarf wrapped around the face. Exposed portion beet red from the cold. He isn't saying much. The silent visage registers an obvious degree of shock to this First Aider Blair.

Yep I'd better think again before I call any of these young workers "dummies". They are out there and they are doing their best. I too had more than a fair share of such frosty mornings without wheels, in earlier days.


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