I went walking Saturday afternoon and decided to revisit an old favorite, right around the corner from my house, bordering on Lafayette Street, the Yantic Cemetery.
The cemetery is the resting place for all manner of people from nearly every era of Norwich's three and half centuries, great and small, old and young, salt and pepper (checking to see if you were still reading).
I was only there a few minutes when I encountered someone walking his medium-sized dog across the graves and between the headstones. I am often accused of being less than fond of dogs when it's their thoughtless owners whom I dislike.
The thing that most annoyed me was his casual disregard of a local ordinance requiring owners to clean up after their animals. To put it kindly, the biped was less than prepared as I had an opportunity to personally witness.
When I chided him about the disrespect for which he was responsible, he quickly moved from assertive to aggressive, suggesting it was not only none of my business but that I do something to and with myself that were I able to so do would probably mean I'd never take another walk as I'd be otherwise occupied.
That he lacked the brains to be embarrassed or ashamed because of an over developed sense of entitlement is what most annoyed me. I worked hard to use an even tone of voice as I explained if he and his chum didn't leave 'I will beat you with my fists until you bleed very badly.' I paused and stood there.
I'm not sure what I was waiting for. It has been decades since I threatened another person and am certainly not in any physical shape to do so. Rather than fearing whom I was becoming, I felt excitement but then keen disappointment as the man's eyes grew large as his voice grew small. He gathered his animal, making sure to not touch the organic memorial it had improvised atop a grave, and departed.
I haven't seen The Angry Man in a long while and realized I didn't miss him at all.
It took me the rest of the evening to calm down enough to have dinner with my wife, watch some television and turn in for the evening. You can guess whom I blame, right?
On my walk Sunday, I avoided the area around the cemetery. I'm hoping the gates and walls are still strong enough to contain him but to be on the safe side, I'll walk elsewhere perhaps through the spring rather than risk the return to being someone I know and fear.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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