I'm Major Jackson, and this is the slowdown.

Forgive this bit of brag.

Forgive this bit of brag.

It is cosmically impossible for me to become a cantankerous misanthrope.

It's just not in my genes.

I never dish a mean, impolite, or sarcastic remark about anyone.

Okay, I rarely do, which makes me uninteresting for sure.

But there are times I feel myself devolving into a malcontent. As when an Uber driver fails to pick up the cues, I wish for silence. I am often at the start of my day,

having thrown back the covers only 30 minutes prior. Yet the driver fires off a bunch of questions,

some of a personal nature. The barrage has me longing for the thick acrylic partition of a taxi.

But I empathize. I too am curious when I meet someone new. I let loose a cascade of inquiries.

The more distinct I find the person, the greater my wonder, and probably the greater my

nuisance. I am anxious to connect with people. Over time, I have learned to accept that not

everyone wants to be my friend. Maybe it's a bit of humorous to think anyone would want to welcome me into their

life. I wish us not to slide over each other's lives, but there are limits to becoming too

familiar. What if the conversation is not well-intentioned, but packed with assumptions, or worse.

I thought as much reading today's poem, one where the speaker themselves is silent,

subject not only to a barrage of trapping questions, but also to the weight of their own journey.

Milestone 2. We Laugh About the Weather is Permanence by Divilla Victor.

4.57 South Mariposa Avenue, Los Angeles, California. Head north on South Mariposa Avenue, Los Angeles, California.

Head north on South Mariposa Avenue toward West Fourth Street, 0.2 miles.

Your Uber has arrived. How are you today? Where are you from?

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