Waving

From my air-conditioned car, I could see glistening beads of sweat run down the flagman’s face. As he took a swipe at them with one hand, he directed traffic through the construction zone with the other. His was not an easy job; I waved. He waved back and then he smiled. It was still a hot day, but maybe it helped to be appreciated. I also wave my appreciation when other drivers stop to allow me to pull into traffic. I wave from my yard to neighbors who pass by, even if we’ve never met. I like to wave to people. But, I am concerned that, over the past few years, the number of those of us who wave is diminishing. Are we becoming an endangered species? When I was growing up, waving was practically a national pastime. We waved to each other, friends and strangers, from our porches, our…