The other night, my wife and I had to park a few blocks away from our favorite place, the Olde Ship in Fullerton, and as we were walking toward dinner, you and maybe three other 14-year-old guys came spilling out of one of the houses along the way. We recognized you as the kids in the street we almost hit a few minutes before while trying to park. For about half a block, you bunny-hopped over and bounded sideways along the edge of the sidewalk with us, slightly in front, totally deadpan and without uttering a word, ushering us along as we walked. I had to suppress thoughts that you would eventually commit a random act of mayhem, but it became clear you were engaged in a goofy, good-natured bit of high-spirited, spontaneous nonsense. We were delighted when, as we reached the corner, you stopped and gave us a small flourish and a bow before bouncing back into the darkness without ever breaking character. Thanks for being our neighborhood guides—and for adding that surreal touch to our evening.
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