Three couples were strolling past when they paused to look at the life-sized statue of Teddy Roosevelt on horseback, which is the centerpiece of the section of the park located across the street from the Portland Art Museum.
They appeared to be middle-aged out-of-towners and looked suspiciously well-credited, judging by their manner of dress, which was formally informal, neat, and studied in the manner of American mall rats.
They should be in Northwest Portland window shopping, I thought.
It took me a few moments to understand their dilemma as they stood and viewed the statue of Teddy. Then one of them broke from the pack and investigated. Curiosity had gotten the best of him.
"Come on, that's Grant!" one of the men in the group shouted. Mumbled assents followed his proud and terribly wrong wild guess.
The investigative one peered at the informative plaque at the statue's base, beneath the horse's ass, and I imagined a turd falling on his head just then.
"You should know this!" he exclaimed as he rejoined the group.
"Who?" the others wanted to know. A bit of tense excitement had seized the moment, and it looked like they all might pee on themselves.
"Grant, right?" said the wise one.
The curious one revealed the truth and the visitors walked on, chuckling over their magnanimous ignorance.
TS
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