©2008 Theresa Dunphy
They’ve got the facts wrong again about Mr. Zipper. Here is what he is really like:
Stout and smart—a whippet really. Short of genius and already a Mensa member, although he never gloats. Humble he is, Mr. Zipper. Stocky posture brings forth his grounded presence, but at times it is easily misconstrued as potentially aggressive or possibly personal-space invading. Mr. Zipper is a fifty-nine year old Albanian that wears a reputation unbeknownst to him. What he’s really like is kind and gentle. This man’s hands have been worked through the bone and into marrow itself. A person seeing the scaling flesh dangling from between his fingers might presuppose the digits are of eighty or more years. Mr. Zipper has hands to shake upon first greeting that hug one’s heart within three strokes, and he leans softly upon your eyes, silently whispering, “Let go but hang on.” Most people think Mr. Zipper is homeless. The fact is Mr. Zipper is a millionaire a few times over. Mr. Zipper hardly speaks with words. He is a man of movements and gestures and subtleties.
Where did Mr. Zipper come from? No one knows for sure. He is Albanian, that’s a fact. Rumors have circulated that Mr. Zipper is somehow related to Mother Teresa. Since he has an overwhelming presence, (one might consider spiritually engulfing once one is within his zone) there is no doubt he is studied or practiced in meditation and centering. At a distance, Mr. Zipper seems to offend the general public’s ideality of aestheticism, what with his second-hand torn and tethered t-shirts and cargo pants. Every one knows those pants. The forest green pair we’ve only known him to be seen in. The ones that have a zipper with a Holy Cross on them.
Mr. Zipper is really like a friend who shows up in the midst of a flash flood. You always remember that day—and never forget his name.