Scarab and I were walking around the bridges yesterday evening when we ran smack into the Breast Cancer Foundation's Purple Twilight Walk. A mass of purple people*, all walking in the opposite direction. And looking at us.
"I won't look at them anymore," I said to Scarab. "Each glance in our direction feels like a reproach."
"Well, they clearly didn't do a good job of advertising this. I'd be walking if I'd known about it."
As we marched on past the swelling wave of purple, I said, "Scabs, just check out how many people there are. I reckon they did a pretty good job."
"Huh. Maybe. But they didn't get my attention, did they?"
And that, my friends, is what Bill Bryson would call an unanswerable reply.
*Not purple people eaters. Come on, be realistic.