Park Shadows

I was working out in Bliss Park one recent morning when I felt a presence behind me.

Oh, fabulous, I thought, a local loon is stalking me.

I had this problem before in June when I was shadowboxing in nearby Shore Road Park and a homeless woman sat down on a bench where I was doing my routine.

Bliss Park has a nice little plaza at the top of a hill that local theater companies have used to stage Shakespeare productions in the pre-Covid-19 days.

It’s also a great spot for a homemade workout—as long people leave you the hell alone.

I turned around and I saw an older Asian man, who was looking at me and gesturing at the ground.

“Clean up,” he was saying with some difficulty. “Clean up.”

Clean up what? We’re in the park, God’s sake, not the Vatican. Unless you work for the Parks Department, stop bugging me.

But then I recalled that I had overreacted when that homeless woman sat down on the bench.

I recalled the shame I had felt for being so thoughtless and I wanted to do better this time, so I subdued my inner crab and tried to communicate.

“You want to clean up?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I need five more minutes,” I said, checking the timer on my smartphone. “Then I’ll clear out.”

He nodded and while I worked out, I could see him out of the corner of my eye sweeping up the plaza with a large tree branch.

In this time of fear, sickness, and death, with the economy tanking, businesses going under, and thousands of people losing their jobs, this man was trying to preserve a little bit of sanity.

Branching Out

I’m sure no one told him to go out and clean up the park. And I’m certain he wasn’t getting any money for his efforts. He was just doing it because he cared.

We’re living in age now where seriously deluded people are refusing to wear masks because they think their rights are being violated.

Nearly every day there are stories in the news about screaming matches, brawls, and even a murder because people are being challenged for not wearing a mask or refusing to practice social distancing.

The country is being overrun by anti-government, libertarian goobers who view the slightest inconvenience, the simplest request, as some kind of federal overreach.

It doesn’t matter that the science has proven them wrong on the mask and social distancing issues. They’ve got their rights. And as long as they persist, the coronavirus will continue to spread.

The timer went off my smartphone and I gathered up my gear.

I don’t have access to a heavy bag since all the gyms are closed, so every now and then I like to take an old pair of boxing gloves and workout on one of the lampposts in the park.

Yes, I know this is insane, but we’re living in an insane time. I don’t hit the lamppost full blast, of course, but I want that feeling of contact that you don’t get from shadowboxing.

I looked up and saw Mr. Clean-Up approaching me with my face mask hanging from a stick. I had left it on the bench and he was very kindly returning it to me.

This is one my back-up masks, a cloth one I wear just to the park and back. I wouldn’t miss it, frankly, but I was grateful for his kindness.

When I was done abusing the lamppost, I gathered up my gear and walked through the plaza. It was spotless, with no sign of dirt, dry leaves or litter.

I looked over to my new friend and smiled beneath my mask.

“Great job,” I said, giving him a thumbs up.

I’m glad I kept my temper in check and let this man do his work. And I wish we had more like him.