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In line at Walmart, you see a youth (translation: a humanoid certain to turn into a homicidal maniac and end your life should you deign to look them in the eye). This youth has nappy hair. This isn’t a slight; …...

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As I Approach 30

I live in a small town. Colona, IL has a population of just over 5,000. As a jogger, this means I am usually only assaulted with exhaust fumes a few times whenever I decide to go outside to burn some calories. But as far as the type of people passing me on the roadside? Over this, I have no control....

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Filed Under on May 17th, 2011

Treasure Trash

By Seth Kabala

In line at Walmart, you see a youth (translation: a humanoid certain to turn into a homicidal maniac and end your life should you deign to look them in the eye). This youth has nappy hair. This isn’t a slight; it’s accurate, and you are nothing if not realistic in your historical cataloging of the unsuitable-for-NPR appearance of youths.

But the disturbing images don’t stop there. This youth also has a huge coat and multi-colored hair, like he just fell into the cotton-candy maker at the county fair and went a few rounds while everybody laughed, sugary fluff filling up the liner of his singlet all the while. (Hey, I would laugh, and you would, too. Long as we got to rip open that sweet parka afterward.)

The next day you’re watching the local news (either because you’re suicidally bored or you lost a bet), and you see said “youth.” He’s receiving an award for community service to the Habitat for Humanity organization. His coat is still huge, hair still nappy, still resembling the bright tresses of those hell-bent to contract adult onset diabetes, but he is different somehow.

Why?

Because now you know.

I saw this youth at my bank, and while I don’t know if he was one for the aforementioned “homicidal maniacs” club, or if he spends his time hammering nails for those less fortunate, pushing his cotton candy cart for the children, but it’s possible, right?

Always a good idea to avoid judgment. Let’s save that for the Big Guy. He’s the only one who can watch people all the time, really know who they are, and not get arrested for being a perv. Instead, lets grab pick-axes and uncover the gems out there. It may be as simple as introducing yourself, or as complicated as running for your life. But you won’t know unless you ask, and you probably need the exercise anyway.

Oh, on the offhand chance that “Nappy, Multi-Colored Haired Bandit Slaughters Bank Employees” dominates tomorrow’s headlines, assume my WordPress account was hacked.

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Seth Kabala

About: Seth Kabala
Seth is an entrepreneur, writer, musician, family man, and juggler of balls--big ones. He lives with his wife and three children in Portland, OR.

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