Sonny's Hitch Hiker on the corner of Farnsworth and Woodward

 Ten minutes passed.  At least 60 people had walked by it from both directions.  Not one gave it a second look.  Finally, a young man stopped, read the back and walked on.  Another 10 minutes went by before a young man and woman stopped.  They looked at the front then read the back together.  The woman said something to the man.  The couple laughed and walked on.  Fifteen minutes later a young woman, maybe a Wayne student, stopped read the back.  Looked around and then left. After waiting awhile longer, I decided to do what I suspect Sonny had in mind when he said "Drop it off at Woodward and Farnsworth..." .  So I lifted it off of its stand, tucked both the stand and Sonny under my arm, waited for the traffic light to change and carried them across Woodward.  I set him up on the corner of the same block as the D.I.A..  There were slightly fewer pedestrians, but many of them were on their way to the museum.  Surely, it wouldn't take to long before someone read the back and carried Sonny the hundred feet or so to the Farnsworth entrance.
  But....no.
  People passed the sculpture without a glance, even though some approached from a direction that enabled them to see the handwriting on the back. A half hour went by and not one person stopped to read the note. 

Sonny across the street

Eventually I remembered a study done once that indicated that passersby on a busy street tend not to stop to aid someone in need, but on a deserted road, aid is offered much more readily.  Thinking this might explain the public's lack of involvement with Mr. Eliot's doppleganger, I once more picked him up and carried him to another corner.  This time the shady corner of Woodward and Kirby, a much quieter corner, still on the block of the D.I.A. but on the business entrance side.  Not the corner that Sonny told the publicist to use, but a place passed by people on their way to the business offices of the museum and art students attending the Center for Creative Studies, kitty-corner from the Detroit Historical Museum.  I sat him down, off the sidewalk on the lawn and crossed Woodward once more to sit on the steps of the library and watch.  Not much action.  After a while, two men, a larger older man and a younger one, both in guard uniforms emerged from the Historical Museum, crossed Woodward and then Kirby and walked directly to the Hitch Hiker, looked it up and down, saw the writing on the back.   As they were reading it a lady stopped and read it, said something to the guards and walked on.

Two guards and a lady read the back of  Sonny's Hitch Hiker.

The guards walked back into the museum.  A few minutes later, the older guard came out, moving faster.  Ignoring the traffic lights, he walked diagonally across the intersection, lift the sculpture out of its stand which he left lying in the grass, and, with Sonny tucked under his arm marched directly back into the historical museum.

Guard from Detroit's Historical Museum carrying Sonny's Hitch hiker back into the museum.

    I crossed Kirby and paid admission to the historical museum. The jay-walking guard was at the front desk talking with the other guard.  I pretended to browse an exhibit of antique bicycles and moved closer to the front desk.
"Oh, yeah!  He's that short." The big guard said.
" So what are you going to do with him?" the little guard said.
The big guard said, " You know, T.V. adds at least a couple of inches."
"It says "Take me to Fred Cummings at The Detroit Institute of Arts" the other guard said.
"I think he looks fatter on T.V. but maybe it's just because he's funny.  Fat guys are funnier."
"Here's the number of the D.I.A., the director's office.  Do you want me to dial it?"
"He don't know shit about weather."
The younger guard said,"We could go together"
At this point the older guard took the plywood form out from behind the desk and disappeared with it thru a door marked  "staff."
I pretended to study the bicycles for a few more minutes then left.

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