Yesterday was about saying farewell in an old-fashioned way; meanwhile when it comes to saying hello, I wonder if you've noticed lately how a perfectly ordinary greeting has had its meaning utterly transformed into something more along the lines of a trendy retort or ironic exclamation.  Especially when expressed in a brassy tone of voice, "hello" even resembles a sort of mocking indictment of another person's inability to grasp the obvious. Yes, I admit I enjoy a good insinuation as well as the next fellow, and I've even resorted upon occasion to this current usage, with the almost inevitable result that quite soon it will have to go out of style, deemed archaic and hopelessly obsolete among the savvy young who, after all, are always being innovative when it comes to language, so adept are they at weighing down mundane words with exotic connotation, although not always necessarily in a good way.

As it happened, just the other day I glanced out the window only to be startled by a bracing sight - a bevy of fireman on the roof of the adjacent structure.  I immediately called a young neighbor of mine who shares a comparable view, albeit on a lower floor.

"Why are there firemen on the roof?" I asked.

"Where?" my neighbor replied but without,  I might add, either sufficient alarm or interest.  Are the young never surprised?  Are they truly unflappable?   

"Hello," i answered.  "Look out the window."

"Hello," she said back, "I was in the shower. Is there a fire?"

"Hello," I answered prepartory to pointing out the obvious.  "Why else would there be firemen on the roof?"

"Hello," she shot back, "they could be practicing."

I confess that, once I considered the matter, the suggestion had a certain plausibility.  The scene below managed to lack both passion and the requisite urgency one would expect if the building did happen to be in flames, or if smoke were billowing forth in a gratifyingly sinister and tell-tale way.  Though wonderfully attired, the movement of the brave young men seemed a trifle methodical, their actions perfunctory in that "going-through-the-motions" demeanor we've all encountered from time to time, most dishearteningly perhaps in romantic situations which tend to call for rather more as opposed to less enthusiasm.  I found myself feeling a little disappointed.  Sensational and dangerous events are seldom part of the usual view.  Still, I continued to survey the scene and not without curiosity.

"Adorable," I found myself saying aloud.  

"Which one?" my neighbor inquired, having now clearly found reason to get to a window to see for herself.

"Hello,"   I replied.  "The young one with the axe."

"Hello," she pointed out.  "There's more than one with an axe.  Oh look, one of them just waved, how sweet."

"Why isn't he waving to me?" I asked.  "I'm the one with the camera."

"Hello," my neighbor explained, "I'm the one whose towel just fell off."

"Tramp."

"Hey you guys," I heard her call out cheerfully, "I'm on fire.  I'm burning up."

I could see them moving the ladder in her direction.

As you can imagine, I explained that I was hanging up and coming right down.