“A man and his two toddler-aged children, strolling down main street last evening, dad teaching kids about buses: "These are the ones we take... the number-fifty-eight, and the number-sixty-one." As I passed them, dad whistled a bar of music, the way one sometimes does, for contentment's sake. I whistled the next bar and then the next as I walked, under my breath, amused in the moment that I'd been contaminated by *something* but not sure of what. It felt less like picking up on a meme than responding to birdcall with mimicry. Maybe the dad is the kind of dad who also teaches kids about last decade's indie pop bands ("These are Peter, and Bjorn, and John") but it could be the kids only know this bar of music as a string of familiar sounds indicating Dad Is Happy, Walking Along The Street Hand In Hand With Me. It's as tenable a definition of immortality as any.”
A man and his two toddler-aged children, strolling down main street last evening, dad teaching kids about buses: "These are the ones we take... the number-fifty-eight, and the number-sixty-one." As I passed them, dad whistled a bar of music, the way one sometimes does, for contentment's sake. I whistled the next bar and then the next as I walked, under my breath, amused in the moment that I'd been contaminated by *something* but not sure of what. It felt less like picking up on a meme than responding to birdcall with mimicry. Maybe the dad is the kind of dad who also teaches kids about last decade's indie pop bands ("These are Peter, and Bjorn, and John") but it could be the kids only know this bar of music as a string of familiar sounds indicating Dad Is Happy, Walking Along The Street Hand In Hand With Me. It's as tenable a definition of immortality as any.