"Have you seen this person?" Walking in the Park; Covered in Tutty Fruitty Ice Cream

Most people, I'd guess have seen the scene in a movie in which someone approaches the bartender with a photo and asks if s/he knows the person in the photo.

Yesterday, at lunch, I saw this happen in "real life." I walked into the restaurant and headed for the bar since ordering lunch there is faster than from a booth. A woman walked behind me and then stood a few feet away at the bar. The bartender took my order, and then the woman asked for the bartender's attention. My first thought was that she was selling something. She opened a black square box, pulled out a black leather case wrapped in plastic, opened the case and turned it toward the bartender. I could see that the case contained photos, but I couldn't see the one she showed the bartender.

After the woman left, the bartender told me that the woman was looking for her step-father whom she thought might be a frequent visitor there in the evenings. Since the bartender never works in the evening, there was no way to know.

One of life's tiny oddities.

First off, I enjoyed the exercise.

Second, much of the path circles under and around some splendid aged trees. A boy scout, working for a merit badge, had labeled manmy of them. (This according to the local newspaper.) One day I took a notebook and tried to write down as many names as I could find: Winged elm; willow oak; loblolly pine; sweet gum; Southern red oak; swamp chestnut oak; red mulberry; hackberry; osage orange. But the most amazing was the shagbark hickory. The first time I saw it I thought of Treebeard from "Lord of the Rings." (Alas, the tree had some problems and had to be cut down. As did the osage orange which also disappeared.)

Third, several of the trees were near park lights, so in the evenings, the light would reflect off the leaves creating intricate shadowy designs. One of the smaller trees was directly under a lamp and would turn gold and green in the light.

Fourth, most of the time, there was sufficient eye candy to make the effort worthwhile. Calf and thigh muscles in action have to be among the most erotic of images.

Yesterday, on the way home from work, I pulled my dirty little car into the parking lot and set out for another trek.

Today, I came home, fed the cats, cleaned the litter boxes, changed clothes and headed back to the park for another ramble. This time I upped the pace and was able to finish a mile in around 15 minutes.

Last night I came across the January copy of "Out" which for some reason I'd not looked at. And there was MS on the cover as part of a resort fashion spread.

He does not have the bulk of a serious gym bunny. Everything seems far more natural. The proportions are splendid. His flawless skin is the color of ancient gold coins. No doubt, he must be the product of some superb DNA.

In Japan at one time, frontal male nudity was an absolute taboo. Artists would work around the restriction by creating cloth that appeared contoured for the genitalia underneath. You would almost think that the artist actually drew genitalia and then painted over it.

There are a couple of shots of MS that have this quality. Shots that are incredibly revealing, yet hold a sense of mystery.

By the way, I kept thinking of Marcus covered in tutty fruitty ice cream.

PAX!