Walking to the corner of 5th avenue and 10th street, myself and a companion encountered a man walking his dog. We concluded our hasty visual assessment of his person, and quickly deduced that the man in question was decidedly unordinary. In the social circles of the well-bred and cultured, men of his particular persuasian are known as "characters."
He was tall with a pronounced ski slope-shaped nose, a bright red scarf, and the characteristically classy, "Upper East Side-dwelling, avid reader of Boating Enthusiast Monthly" wardrobe. We found him walking his dog; a solidly built golden retriever who, while waiting obediently for the crosswalk, took the opportunity to shoot us a fiery glance, rife with unmistakable implications.
The questions implicit in this short glance ran the gambit from, "do you like my beautiful thick coat?" to "why are you staring at my master in that way?" to "I am so much more attractive than you!"
Both the man and his dog were characters. Some definitions of "character" include, "the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing," "moral or ethical quality," and "an account of the qualities or peculiarities of a person or thing."
Unfortunately/fortunately, I am speaking of character-dom on a much deeper level: that which gives rise to robotic, paper-mache people devoid of real feelings, fears, hopes or desires. The Boating Enthusiast and his canine companion are only the beginning. I often find myself surrounded by these individuals. The landscape is disconcerting.
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