Word: elbowings
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Ducked into doorway. Bump into sign. "New England's largest Toyland, This Way." Woman grabs me by the arm. Fat woman. "Oh, excuse me. I thought you were Forsythe. Have you seen a little boy...?" Hear air raid siren at left elbow. Turns out it's not air raid siren at all but little boy. Forsythe. Pick self off floor and get caught up in herd of stampeding gamins. We sweep through the Hopalong Cassidy Corral, Scout Hut, and emerge in a layer of purgatory which Dante, lucky fellow, never visited. Gamins disperse into scouting parties and disappear...
Army of salesgirls, the dinner shift, marches by, glaring at kids. Floorwalker with tie glares at me. Woman grabs my arm. "Come along, Forsythe." I glare at Forsythe. Forsythe imitates fire siren. Escalator marked "Down" appears at my left elbow...
...impossible not to laugh at this. When we inadvertently laughed at this remark, a well-dressed neighbor shot a hostile glance at my notes and threatened to kick me "in the teeth." This stalwart shuffled his feet like a prize fighter and kept ramming his elbow into my companion for the rest of the meeting...
...give our boys the tools to do the job and the right attitude to use them. If they've got the stuff, they'll be big successes. If they don't, all the handshaking and back-slapping in the world won't get them any more than a sore elbow...
...Webb and his disappearing frontier to the contrary, it appears that there is still considerable elbow room over the next ridge...