"I'm back again - just like herpes" he greets me with melancholic monotone, in plain polo and khakis. We don't always have time to exchange names, so against any sense of decency I call him Mr. Herpes. I used to pick him up every Sunday morning on the 50 but this pick I shifted to afternoons and don't see him so regularly. Still, like he says, he pops up occasionally like the gift that keeps on giving.
Most of us have been in his shoes: a promising youth of excitement and opportunity that eventually settles into resigned monotony. His training ground was off the ground in the world of aviation, an unlimited horizon spread before him. Haven't we all soared at one time, high on life and the future, confident in our ability to go in any direction we chose, like a bird in flight. We can only defy the laws of nature for so long. Gravity has a way of bringing us back to earth, weighing us down under our accumulated experience. Maybe we clip our own wings, tiring at the relentless assaults we face. This is all the more reason to defy the cages and preen our plumage. Even little birds can be nursed back to Life.
It is a periodic passage of life that we traverse the valleys of ennui and dejection. When you've had your fill of that place, get stubborn, get rebellious and rise again. Don't doubt the value of your presence. You, in your living humanity, are the most valuable resource on this planet. That means you, Mr. Homeless, Ms. Student, Miss Fast Food, Old, Young, Powerless, Forgotten, Nameless, Speechless, Hopeless, Failure, Has-Been, etc.
Mr. Herpes, despite his sad-sack demeanor, still has the spark within and hasn't fully given up.
"Don't worry, I'll be back" he promises.
He now has a new nickname: Ace.
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