Seeing Micah

I don't know how many of y'all remember Micah. He is a very congenial mentally disabled man who wanders the Bardstown Road corridor socializing and taking pictures of all his friends. He's also quite the philanthropist and reportedly a very talented musician.



Micah was a fixture of my life as a socialite/bar-hopper. It was quite an accomplishment for me when I taught him to fist-bump" instead of giving me his handshake that turned into a fondle. (Micah's motor skills aren't quite up to par.) I really think I saw him at least three times a week. I don't know how he got all the places he went. I would drive from place to place in my car, obviously, and when I looked up, Micah would arrive. Perhaps he would take the bus, or a kind soul would drive him, but Micah always made his way around the Louisville hot spots. I have a picture of Micah on one particular Derby night sitting beside me while I made out with"Chris from Boston" in front of the port-a-potties at Molly Malone's, and Micah looks for all the world like the Lincoln Memorial. It's a wonderful sight!!



Before yesterday, the last time I saw Micah was at the St. Joes Picnic a few years ago when I was with Courtney, Amy, and Jeff. When we saw him his friends told us he had cancer. Micah didn't remember us and looked very thin. I have sadly assumed that Micah must have become too ill to go out in public or even worse.



Yesterday Dylan and I went to Fourth Street in the afternoon. The "D" is very entertained by the escalators at Fourth Street (it takes so little) and riding the trolley. We were making our way back to the car because happy hour was beginning when I saw that familiar tall back, that ambling gait. "Micah," I shouted with glee! Micah turned to see us. He hugged me (three times.) He didn't remember me at first, but then he knew that he used to see me at Willow Park every week. He took my picture with Dylan. Then Dylan took Micah's and my picture together. Poor Dylan was very, very perplexed. Then disaster struck. My excited greeting was a mistake. Micah wanted my phone number. He wanted to have lunch or dinner together. We wrote my name in his book, but I'm ashamed to admit that the phone number I gave was, well, off a few digits. I had to explain all of this to Dylan. I'm a very poor role model, and someday he'll treat some girl badly all because of me. (I'm very sorry, girl of the future.)



Seeing Micah made me nostalgic, so Dylan and I ate supper at Molly's. Shawn was our waiter. Dylan, confused by his Irish broque, asked where he was from. When I said, "Ireland," Dylan argued that he could not be. You see, people from Ireland are green :)