Mood:
sharpTopic: "3:10 to Yuma" (7)
It is purely happenstance when Frodo finds himself with the opportunity to stand amid hustle and bustle and count noses, or is that smell roses? No matter, because he will long remember what it is like to look around, in the world's busiest airport, and to just say "Hello" to passersby. When eyes don't meet, he takes note of the physique, the eyes, the clothing, and tries to wonder what it is that worries this person. Are these truly the 99% that everyone seems to be talking about, or has Frodo accidentally found himself shrouded by the world's wealthiest. Truly, the parking lots are all filled, and every seat in every aircraft is accounted for, so who are all these people, and where are they going?
Asking them is not practical. The last time he tried that approach was in his fifth year, when he stood outside the windows named Woodward & Lothrop and watched the trains travel between the puppets on 14th Street. People watched Frodo, and they smiled. They asked him questions, and he replied. "Santa is going bring me a train." Frodo was kind of hoping that one of today's passersby would respond to his greeting with what they wanted for Christmas, too.
Frodo learned today that six members of the family named Walton have a combined net worth that is greater than 30% of all the roughly 300 million people who live in the US of A. Six people. Six people who have more money than almost 100 million of their fellow countrymen. And those six sell things for which the almost 100 million give money, in return, which goes back to the six people. Frodo, as he thinks about it, thinks he understands what is on the mind of all the people who walked by him this day, and who said nothing. Frodo thinks he understands what it is that worries these people, the 99% if you will.
They were expecting cake.
