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Saturday
March 20, 2010 Since 1922 |
Humanoid watch is interesting
By Jim Finley
Contributor Published November 3, 2009 The Finleys – Wife Margie and Jimbo – are out of town on a trip and are visiting this big shopping mall. (Forgive me for starting this column in what I believe to be Fourth Person. I just thought I’d try it for a change.)
I love watching people, and I’ve found there’s no better place to study the humanoid element than at a mall. And forgive me for bragging, which goes against my humble nature, but I’ve become pretty doggoned good at Humanoid Observation across the years.
So we’re away from home, as I said, with time on our hands, and there’s this inviting shopping mall just sitting there. Let us stop, we reason together.
I’m joyful, because, in the normal scheme of things, there are generally live people scurrying around inside the walls of a mall. Here’s a chance to secretly watch them, make mental notes, and even sneer at a few depending on which college mascot is displayed on their T-shirts (fill in your own blank here).
The way we work it, Wife Margie conveniently sits me on a bench at a strategic mall location. She instructs me to remain in my place – unless nature calls – and she’ll return to fetch me sometime within the next 14 hours.
It’s not that she doesn’t love me – how could she not? – but rather that I’m forbidden to follow her around various stores as she shops. I can’t imagine why, can you?
Many years ago her actions in this area hurt deeply, cutting across my happy heart, soul, and other vital organs. Not anymore, as maturity has set in.
Thusly, off she goes, leaving me to my own devices. My Humanoid Observation is underway.
Most of the time I limit the scope of my study to certain areas, such as, “Wow, is she ever good-looking!” Today it’s different. (It’s the maturity.)
For the first time ever, I’m noticing that if you don’t count teenagers and little kids, hardly anyone smiles as they walk the mall. Almost to a person – mostly women – they look intent, solemn, serious. It’s as though they’re just days away from their spouse undergoing a critical esophagus transplant.
This is striking to me. Isn’t it supposed to be fun to shop for a new dress, or shoes, or earbobs for that ritzy upcoming dinner with the mayor? Or for hubby’s operation?
Apparently not. This is grim business, much more important than who is going to win the World Series, if you can believe that.
Even when I spot two women shopping together they look somber, almost mad, in some cases. They walk along briskly – not a smile on their pretty faces – exchanging thoughts about who knows what.
I urge you to check this phenomenon the next time you People Watch.
Another thing that catches my eye is how people dress when they go to the mall. Their dress runs the gamut from sleek Donald Trump to, uh, Rosie O’Donnell (yuck!). This applies to both your male species and your female species.
In warmer weather you’ll see guys with absolutely no sense of fashion strolling along wearing walking shorts with brown sandals and BLACK socks stretching all the way to their knees. I just hate that and have instructed Wife Margie to place me in a secure nursing facility if I ever dress that way.
Meanwhile, the womenfolk normally look better. The one thing I, as a man of the male gender, can’t grasp is why some of the ladies wear heels as tall as the San Jacinto Monument. Why not something more casual, more comfortable?
It’s none of my business, though.
Oops! Here’s comes Wife Margie. We’ve been here four hours, she’s been in 41 stores, and hasn’t bought a thing. She’s not smiling, either.
Time to go.
Jim Finley is a retired managing editor for The Baytown Sun.
Contributor Published November 3, 2009 The Finleys – Wife Margie and Jimbo – are out of town on a trip and are visiting this big shopping mall. (Forgive me for starting this column in what I believe to be Fourth Person. I just thought I’d try it for a change.)
I love watching people, and I’ve found there’s no better place to study the humanoid element than at a mall. And forgive me for bragging, which goes against my humble nature, but I’ve become pretty doggoned good at Humanoid Observation across the years.
So we’re away from home, as I said, with time on our hands, and there’s this inviting shopping mall just sitting there. Let us stop, we reason together.
I’m joyful, because, in the normal scheme of things, there are generally live people scurrying around inside the walls of a mall. Here’s a chance to secretly watch them, make mental notes, and even sneer at a few depending on which college mascot is displayed on their T-shirts (fill in your own blank here).
The way we work it, Wife Margie conveniently sits me on a bench at a strategic mall location. She instructs me to remain in my place – unless nature calls – and she’ll return to fetch me sometime within the next 14 hours.
It’s not that she doesn’t love me – how could she not? – but rather that I’m forbidden to follow her around various stores as she shops. I can’t imagine why, can you?
Many years ago her actions in this area hurt deeply, cutting across my happy heart, soul, and other vital organs. Not anymore, as maturity has set in.
Thusly, off she goes, leaving me to my own devices. My Humanoid Observation is underway.
Most of the time I limit the scope of my study to certain areas, such as, “Wow, is she ever good-looking!” Today it’s different. (It’s the maturity.)
For the first time ever, I’m noticing that if you don’t count teenagers and little kids, hardly anyone smiles as they walk the mall. Almost to a person – mostly women – they look intent, solemn, serious. It’s as though they’re just days away from their spouse undergoing a critical esophagus transplant.
This is striking to me. Isn’t it supposed to be fun to shop for a new dress, or shoes, or earbobs for that ritzy upcoming dinner with the mayor? Or for hubby’s operation?
Apparently not. This is grim business, much more important than who is going to win the World Series, if you can believe that.
Even when I spot two women shopping together they look somber, almost mad, in some cases. They walk along briskly – not a smile on their pretty faces – exchanging thoughts about who knows what.
I urge you to check this phenomenon the next time you People Watch.
Another thing that catches my eye is how people dress when they go to the mall. Their dress runs the gamut from sleek Donald Trump to, uh, Rosie O’Donnell (yuck!). This applies to both your male species and your female species.
In warmer weather you’ll see guys with absolutely no sense of fashion strolling along wearing walking shorts with brown sandals and BLACK socks stretching all the way to their knees. I just hate that and have instructed Wife Margie to place me in a secure nursing facility if I ever dress that way.
Meanwhile, the womenfolk normally look better. The one thing I, as a man of the male gender, can’t grasp is why some of the ladies wear heels as tall as the San Jacinto Monument. Why not something more casual, more comfortable?
It’s none of my business, though.
Oops! Here’s comes Wife Margie. We’ve been here four hours, she’s been in 41 stores, and hasn’t bought a thing. She’s not smiling, either.
Time to go.
Jim Finley is a retired managing editor for The Baytown Sun.