He chats, gravel-voiced, about the Knicks with the bus driver and takes a seat, eyes obscured behind cataract-style sunglasses, one hand on a walking stick, the other on a rubberband-secured notebook/planner.
"Hello, young man!" he says to every boy who boards with his mom. He asks how old the young man is, and whatever he's told, he subtracts 1 and says, "I can't ride with you! I only ride with kids [one year younger]!" I laugh.
He says, "They need to be recognized! Just like we all do." I tell him I agree wholeheartedly.
I am grateful for his recognition.