The things that bind

by Aliki2006 at World of One Thousands Different Things
posted on August 8, 2007

Yesterday, pulling away from the college where I teach, I drove past a homeless man pushing one of those old-fashioned baby carriages. It was, somewhat stereotypically, filled with all sorts of random things and probably also personal belongings. I wondered where he was headed, so purposefully, in the 99 degree heat, with that rusty old baby carriage filled with remnants from his life. I always have an incredible desire, at moments like that, to see the story to its end, so to speak. I wanted to follow that man, watch where he went with that carriage, but even then I wouldn't have had all the answers, only more questions; perhaps that same voyeuristic desire to get at someone's life through their things--their artifacts--is what drives some of us (myself included) to wander through estate sales, thinking about the stories behind a silver spoon, or a glass bowl, or a collection of books.

But I drove off and he soldiered on, purposefully, pushing that carriage up the hill, one foot after the other, headed who knows where, in a heat that must have weighed on him like many bricks. Read more...