With each passing moment John Roedel was one “little man step”  closer to reaching the end of his trek around the lake of Lions Park.  The near fall sun shone down on him from the heavens above in a manner that indicated that he, John K. Roedel, was favored by the universe over all humans.  John was your typical looking Wyomingite, except for the fact that his looks could only be described as “unnaturally attractive.”  His face was strong, yet warmly inviting…like a rainbow that is made of Texas Roadhouse Apple Butter.  His hair was dark and curly like the waves of a mystical ocean, but with the softness of a newly shorn Unicorn buttocks.  John’s eyes adorned his perfectly shaped head like two brilliantly lit Chinese Lanterns.  These hypnotic eyes were all-knowing, yet had a dash of the pure innocence you could only find in the pupils of a newborn doe that stretches it’s legs for the first time on a snowy December morning in a field of white snow.  It has been said by others,  and it happens to be true that John Roedel looks more like Magnum P.I. then Tom Selleck ever did.

Aside from his obvious attractiveness the passers by at the park found themselves blinded by John’s physique.  His body was strong….strong like a combination of Oxen and Yeti.  Despite his efforts to the contrary, John found it impossible to not completely obscure how massive his arms were under his green sweater that day.  Although, he had not ever worked out once in his life, his entire upper body was as perfectly formed as giant oak trees he was walking under.  John’s lower half was as equally impressive to observe.  It was almost as if he was crafted out of the mold of other highly regarded bodies….like in a really attractive Frankenstein sort of way.  His abs’s were as firm as J-Lo’s.  His leg’s as powerful as The Lance Armstrong.  Lastly, John’s feet that plodded away on the darkened path of Lions Park were like those of Moses. (without the more than likely disfiguring blisters that must have decorated his sandy feet) They were holy feet that were leading John to a new land…..a land of….hope.

John is to walking what Ian Mcshane was to Deadwood.  John not only graced the park with his feet, he owned it.  This was his sacred place and he was compassionate enough to let the other slugs share a piece of it as long as they did not get in his way.

John enjoyed walking with the common people of Cheyenne.  It made him feel…normal.  He knew that by allowing others to watch him gracefully glide his body around the lake that he was more than likely inspiring others to try to be more like him.  While passing a mother pushing a baby in a stroller John took a moment to stop his predestined march of glory and give the two of them a moment in time that they will cherish forever.  John held up his hand to request that the mother stop pushing the child cart for a moment.  The mother looked at him with a puzzled expression that John immediately recognized.  In the calmest of tones he spoke to her to offer her words of comfort.

“Do not fear woman.  I am John, walker of this park.  While you have probably admired me from a far, I have never noticed you before.  Today, however I cast my radiant gaze upon you and ye’ spawn to allow you each to bath in my perfection”.

John then with the humility of a gentle ocean wave reached out his hand to touch the babies face.  To which the mother said.

“Please don’t touch my child.”

Poor woman John thought.  She does not believe that her child is worthy.  He smiled at her and tried to speak.  Before he could utter any of his perfectly chosen words the mother interrupted with.

“Leave or I will mace you.  I will mace you right in the face.”

John took that hint as that she was not ready yet to understand why a machine of machismo would have stopped and offered her and the child a moment of social nirvana. Plus he couldn't take the risk of something happening to his face. So, with a nod of the walking King he was John left the obviously crazed woman and child alone. He continued his walk starting to realize that maybe he could never connect with humanity. After all how could he?  He was the ideal walker, and everyone else was just….well…not him.   He remarked to himself that this is probably what Superman or Christopher Walken must have gone through when they realized how awesome they were.  John decided that he would spend the rest of his walk in silence and use that time to commune with nature.

With each manly stride he could feel the cool air pass through his mouth and into his glorious lungs.  The smell of the radioactive pond scum that kept the lake a hazy shade of purple lingered in his nostrils, while the sounds of the rustling trees provided our hero with some audio serenity.  All was well as John made it to the first bend of his walk.

That is when it happened.  That is when the dark one appeared.

As John made his way around the curve he noticed that about 20 yards behind him was a older lady in a red hat and matching jump suit walking behind him.  She was walking rather quickly, and since John had been walking this park for a few years now he knew that there was no way she could keep up that pace.  So for a moment or two he ignored the speed walking geriatric and began to again meditate on how incredibly incredible he was at walking.  His time in the temple of the Holy Ego was quickly interrupted when he heard something that he had not heard in a long time.

Footsteps.

Trying not to look obvious John turned his head around to make it look like he was stretching his neck when he noticed that red woman was now about only 10 yards behind him.  This was rather shocking to him.  He assumed that this older lady must not know who he was.  He was John, walker of the park and you do not pass him.  John spun his body around and started walking backwards.  He smiled at the woman who was now closing the gap even more with him and said 

“Good morning, older woman. My name is John. Yes, John Roedel.  It is a wonderful day for a walk, is it not?”  

She did not respond.  Now that John had the time to look at her face he saw that it was frozen in determination.  For the first time since he watched Hannity and Colmes on Fox he was scared.  Why was she not talking to him?  Why was she not slowing down? Why did she not respect the fact that this was his park to walk in?  

“You might want to take it easy,  this isn’t a race.”  John remarked with a nervous chuckle that followed.

Still she said nothing.  She just stared ahead, walking even faster now.  The woman was now just a few steps behind him.

His eyes met hers.  She was not going to slow down.  She was going to pass him.  This could not be happening!

With the speed of a Chupacabara in heat John spun around and picked up the pace of his walk.  There was no way that he was going to let her pass him.  Deep in his heart though he knew that this walk-race with the seventy year old woman in red was going to be something that would forever define his life….

To be continued....