26-October-2009 7:14AM

-And here they come, rain shields up, hustling in like cowboy driven cattle, and hesitating their butts into suspension in midair in light of possible wetness down below. Many do not carry umbrellas which is an effect of the customary tradition about this region of the globe.

One such of these is a middle aged man with a near reddened mullet seated in the aft section side-facing row to my forward view. I say, “near mullet” since it seems his mop simply grows into this fashion as naturally as possible, without provocation or potential pressures from those glory days of two to three decades past. Presently within this Twenty-First Century, he prostrates himself with legs opened wide (a possible reason that there is one who chooses to stand rather than plop himself next to this “near mullet man’s” adjacency), and his hands are clasped into a Catholic school fold held loosely at the crotch’s altitude. He mainly focuses on a newspaper reader directly across from him, gazing as a monitor might, with expressionless enthusiasm: up and down, all around until some kind of inner verdict or attainment has been made. At this point of the “click” his whole attentiveness attenuates into disenchantment which is signaled by a wave through the mullet growth curls au naturale and falls into a measured slumber.

-But no, his meager attempt at obtaining additional rest is thwarted by one of those said fanny suspenders that now feels the need to violently run her fingers through her own hair by reaching back with much accentuated effort with both engorged arms thusly causing a high-pitched set of scrapes elicited by her rain jacket’s tight nylon weave and vibrating the seat disputatiously in the process. Just following one of these episodes she whips her head back out the fogged-over window behind her and decides to wipe away some of the condensation there. She accomplishes this with vigorous movements, excessively dramatic in their practice, to, in the end reveal nothing given the inky opacity of the predawn hour.

-Which just goes to show, doing something for its own sake is by evidence extremely “fruitful.”