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His name is Don and he has been walking up and down Main Street for decades, smiling and waving at every passing car. When traffic is heavy, he uses both hands so as to not miss anyone, a constant, complicated ballet of motion.
His wave is complex, begins as an outstretched arm, then a twist at the wrist and elbow, ending with the palm facing backwards, again with arm outstretched, thumb and one finger extended, the other three partially curled. He has perfected the movement over decades.
20 years ago, he began wearing wristbands and the "urban legend" in Waterville spread that he was suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome from the repeated movement. Not so, he claims. They are to protect his wrists from contact during his practice of Hung Gar, a form of Chinese Kung Fu. His one inch long thumb nails are also a part of his practice.
"It's what I do," he replied when asked why he waves. "I can't explain it better, because my mind doesn't work good anymore. I started doing it when I worked for my Uncle's catering company back in the 50's and I just kept on doing it." I asked, "How old are you, Don?" "You got me with that one. My mind doesn't work good anymore. I'm not good with numbers and dates," he replied smiling.
The smile never left his lips. Thin, fit, balding, he is of average height and stands erect as he speaks with me and waves at each passing car. His teeth are pointed and it has been a very long time since he has seen a dentist. He dresses in dirty jeans and a tee shirt with a large eagle belt buckle. In his breast pocket he carries a Mega Bucks ticket. "Do you ever win the lottery," I asked. "Yeah, sometimes," he replied, removing the ticket and displaying three one dollar bills. "It's what you do with the 'ones'."
"I'll be 80 in a month... a couple months," he suddenly recalls. I replied, "Wow, Don, you're in good shape for 80. And I noticed your long thumbnails." He responded with a long, fluid martial arts movement which ended with both his arms outstretched and the thumbnails pointed about 3 inches from my eyeballs. "Hung Gar. It's the Hung Gar. Nobody knows it. It's not here. It's everywhere else, but not here." "Martial arts?" I asked. He nodded. "I can't explain, because, like I said, my mind doesn't work good anymore."
Out of the blue, Don offered, "It's the macular degeneration..." I asked, "Are your eyes bad? That must be tough walking in traffic." He said, "I can't see your face right now, but I walk in the road, especially with a lot of snow. It's safe, because everyone knows me. The cars move for me. I don't move for them. It's what I do."
The whiskers on his chin are sparse, white, 3 inches long. "Are you happy?" I asked. "Oh yeah, I'm happy." "Do you know John, the Jesus Man, who also walks around Waterville?" I asked. "Oh yeah, we're friends. He's a good guy." "Can I take your picture?" I asked. "Oh yeah, I'm not shy."
A car horn beeped at him, and, without breaking eye contact with me, he executed his complex, twisting wave. "I can't explain it, because, like I said, my mind doesn't work good anymore." he smiled.
As he walked away, I called after him. "You're like that guy Kane on the Kung Fu TV show, just walking the earth, enjoying your days." He looked back over his shoulder, smiled and gave me his wave.
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