The Silver Streak

by cfmullen • It was 8:52 am. I was on the 1 train heading south. It was a typical rush hour crowd: brusque, impersonal and oblivious to everything but their combined tardiness. The doors opened at 14th street and the throng exited en masse. Like a scene out of Metropolis, they converged at the staircase, leaning forward, nudging, and pushing each other inexorably upward. ••• It was then that I saw her, her long silver-white hair shining above a sea of hats and boring hair hues. She was holding something long, shiny and metal in her right hand. She seemed to thrust it into the air. It looked more like a scepter than a sword. “Onward brave souls. Onward,” I wanted her to shout. But she didn't. ••• I hurried to catch up to her. I wanted to get a better look at what she was carrying. And I did. It was a scooter. You know, one of those folded-up preteen skate boardish things. A scooter! ••• When she reached the top of the stairs, she flicked open her shiny device and mounted it. With one strong push, she shot down 7th avenue, twisting, turning, expertly avoiding the limitations of age as well as the plodding pedestrians. ••• She was a Silver Streak. And she is the kind of person who inspires me – a person who refuses to take old for an answer. If you look, you will see people like her all around you. ••• I caught a final glimpse of her as she zoomed down the street. Yes, she was doing other things, but she was doing them on top of a Xootr Mg. ••• If you are inspired by this woman too, check out the link Xooter Urban Transport. Their scooters aren’t flimsy and they are built to fly. This spring, I am going to buy myself one. And if I see that woman on 7th avenue, I’m going to thank her, and suggest that even though her hair looks great, she should really wear a helmet.