Compassion: A Superpower

I had never had a shoe shine in a chair before.  But I had some time to kill before hopping the Acela train between D.C. and N.Y. the other day, and my boots were crying out for a shine.  Ty Davis had his work cut out for him: leather, suede, plenty of buckles. 

As I sat there a steady stream of men moved in and out of the chair to my right under the fine care of stand owner Dave Kirkley. Ty worked his magic with my demanding boots.  Polish, rags, suede brushes, more polish, more rags and then for the piece de resistance a lighter to burn the tiny errant threads from the zipper's edge. He was nothing short of an artist.  

I broke the ice, confessing I was a shoe shine chair virgin.  He told me I was doing just fine, and then asked me where I was from.  When I confessed Los Angeles, he replied instantly,  "Well you've got some drama goin' on out there, don't you?"  referring to the Donald Sterling debacle.

I asked both Ty and Dave if they dealt with a lot of racism in their jobs and they said they had but most often dealt with more generic power issues.  Mostly, though, they were delighted to just do a good job no matter how powerful the person they served or how little they were acknowledged. 

I had noticed that the men who filtered in and out of the chair to my right barely uttered a syllable.  I had seen this phenomenon before while waiting for planes or trains.  I would be transfixed by these little oases reserved for manly men to go through this nearly silent ritual, all communications simply understood.  These days the ever present devices create even more of a disconnect from the humans offering this fairly intimate service.  The men hardly ever look up, let alone make eye contact.  It seems slightly obscene really.

Ty and Dave get to see a lot of humanity so they have some very special views about things, including this Mr. Sterling fellow.  They both, though, in nearly musical concert, defended him to some degree: he grew up with those ideas, they are ingrained in every fiber of his being, so he is just being his most Sterling self.   They said it with a compassion that only long time witnesses of such a wild stream of humanity can muster. They believe everyone is doing their best.   Plus, the NBA took care of the fact that Sterling dissed the very men who made his team successful.  

Still, they have more compassion than I would muster in their position - the Mother Teresas of Shoe Shine - doing their very best to make the rest of us shine as much as possible, sometimes in spite of ourselves.  

Superheroes of Love roam far and wide.