The man of mystery...

As I was swimming, I was watching this guy who always is in the same place every Sunday at the lagoon on the Cairns Esplanade. He never swims.  He is always bare-chested. He’s extremely muscular. He sits on his haunches and watches people. He rarely moves. He just sits and watches.

As I pass by, to do my swim, I always say hello. He is always silent. But I say it anyway. Maybe it’s perversity on my part. Maybe it’s human nature to acknowledge others.

Today, as I passed by splendid in my lycra togs, I said hello and I saw the faintest smile from him in response. I smiled back. I always wear men down eventually.   

Man of mystery…

So I got an email about pills to enhance my masculinity this morning. Uh, no thanks…not this morning…maybe later if I have to lift something. The thing that I liked about the email was the name of the sender - Woodrow Hogue. What a fantastic name for a character. Yes, I expect I’ll use in some story. The question is what does a Woodrow Hogue look like? I have a couple of ideas in mind. I checked the internet to see if Woodrow Hogue existed. Shocker – he doesn’t. That probably means he’s a spy or really careful with the info he puts out there. I think a Woodrow Hogue would be like that. He doesn’t strike me as a too-much-information-these-are-photos-of-my-kids-house-bellybutton-recipe-for-chocolate-cake-type-person. I expect Woodrow would be kinda pissed in a Chuck Norris let-me-teach-you-a-lesson way if he knew someone was using his name to flog male pep pills because clearly Woodrow needs no help in that area. I also reckon he would have a zen, gentle side that would be calming yet deceptive. Hmmm…I must ponder the wonder of Woodrow Hogue some more…