Mr. Trucks

Tags

Allman Brothers Band, carburetors, fuel injection, neighbors, pick up trucks

No, not the late Mr. Butch of The Allman Brothers Band nor his nephew Mr. Derek of his own band or what’s left of the Allmans anymore.

A while back I wrote a piece about a neighbor, I don’t know his name but he lives nearby and we wave from time to time so that makes him a neighbor I suppose.

He is the guy who has two aging and oil depositing on the streets pick up trucks.

It seems he has added a third truck to his collection. It’s somewhere between gold and copper in color. After 30 years or so exposed to the elements it might have been brown at one time but now it looks like weak tea.

I don’t know if the neighbor bought the truck, found it or maybe someone seeing his small fleet of pickups decided to add to it by abandoning the copper truck on the property, like people abandon kittens.

Maybe the guy drove the pickup to the house, had a getaway driver waiting, rang the doorbell and ran away leaving the new/old/new pickup on the street for it’s new owner.

I suppose anything is possible anymore these days.

The new/old/new truck was roaring the other day with the hood up, engine running and the new owner revving up the beast.

I suspect this truck is of the pre-fuel injection era since the guy had his head buried in the engine compartment and it sounded like he was trying to blow out the carburetor like we used to do in the old days when all cars had carburetors.

Carburetors. Those jobs are gone and they’re never coming back.

The latest addition the the fold seems to be a Chevy. I one saw bumper sticker on a Chevy truck that read,” On a quiet night you can hear the Fords rust.”

I also saw another sticker,”Friends don’t let friends drive Chevies.”

My 400 Mile Summer of 2020

Tags

Running, streaks

403 so far to be exact.

Back in May just before Memorial Day I read an article in RW magazine online suggesting folks start an everyday running streak. The streak would run from Memorial Day to the Fourth of July for a total of 41 days.

I was intrigued because I had never considered doing anything like that and besides it was the summer of 2020 where all hell was breaking loose and nothing was going right.

Normally I have been a run every other day guy and that has served me well in the 50 plus years I’ve been a runner. Yes, I know, another Boomer extolling the virtues of running. So what?

I just kept running. The years piled up by themselves, something I had and currently have no control over.

Off we go, one day, then two then three then four and while the mileage was modest, no more than three miles a day the expected aches and pains never surfaced.

Soon it’s ten, then twenty and with the Fourth in sight I hit forty days and push past America’s birthday to fifty days. I take a day off and get back on the horse.

The miles pile up as my runs go from threes to fours to fives and I’m amazingly not showing any signs of overtraining or injuries.

Yesterday I joined the Four Hundred Miles Club for the summer which although by the calendar it ended weeks ago was still moderate in the temperature department to allow runs in tank tops and shorts.

Today it’s chilly and rainy and I’m fresh off an NFL afternoon couch nap.

I’ll have to dig out my transitional weather running gear.

I’ve run races in November and December and January where the weather was much worse than this afternoon.

It’s getting one’s behind out the door when it’s cold that is the issue.

The summer is officially over in terms of temperature. It’s full on Fall now.

All hell continues to break loose and still nothing is going right.

Running and running and running might get me through this.

I Voted

Tags

Election Day, Trump

I did it last week, filled out my ballot and dropped it off at the county office. they were not handing out ” I Voted” stickers as I’m quite sure my county commissioners were all that happy I chose to exercise my right.

Besides, stickers cost money and we can’t have all these people walking around downtown proudly bragging they voted because then more people will want stickers but they will have to vote first and the if enough people vote a certain somebody might not have a job come January 20, 2021.

In 1980 in the little village, hamlet of Rothsville, PA I voted in person at the local Fire Hall and I marked my preference for president and vice president with an x on a piece of paper that was my ballot.

I dropped it into the box for voted ballots.

For some reason, unknown to me, the thousand of ballots already safely sealed in the vault at the county government center can’t be opened or counted until 7am on Election Day meaning the total tally will not come rolling in by 9pm.

It will arrive – who knows when. I’ll stay up to find out.

Four years ago as the results came pouring in I gave up, went towed and hoped that I was already asleep and dreaming a bad dream and that when I woke up tomorrow the person who was being declared the winner was actually the loser.

I’m still trying to wake up from that bad dream.

He’s worse than we thought he could be.

The Long Shadows

Tags

Fall, leaves, Running, shadows

Out for a run this afternoon.

Sun was out and shining brightly and casting long, long shadows where there never were shadows a few weeks ago.

I’m happy for myself I noticed them and even happier that the mental note I stashed away during mile 2 stayed with me long enough to remember and mark this little observation.

Long shadows and as leaves fall and get swept away the shadows get longer and thinner.

Nice to notice changes.

A Cloudy Day

Tags

acceptance, cloudy days, Fall, seasons, Winter

Yesterday was cool and cloudy and pretty much right in line with what the weather is supposed to be in the middle of October.

When I looked out my window and saw the grey sky I thought well, let’s just deal with this and get on with it.

But then a thought hit me and probably because the last 7 months have been hell I decided to go with the day and embrace it.

Summer is long gone and sometimes I wonder if it was ever here.

Fall is a transition season, really, all the seasons are transitions but summer seems to be the one where the world stays the same from late June until late August. Warm and sunny most everyday.

Autumn is a season on the move. We know, we can sense when it starts and we’ll know in our bones when it’s over and winter has arrived.

By the end of fall when winter is a knock, knock, knocking on our door we’ll feel as though we’re staring into a 6 month abyss of abysmal something or other. I couldn’t find a word that would tie into the abyss/abysmal theme.

Winter lands and stays put until spring training opens in Florida and Arizona for the national pastime. That’s when hope springs eternal. It does not spring eternal on December 1st.

In embracing cloudy days I’m getting ready to welcome the end of fall and invite winter in since it’s going arrive whether we like it or not.

Maybe acceptance is the nugget I’m going for in this stream of electronic words.seasons

2020 Here

Tags

2020, drought, hurricanes, man made disasters, virus, years

Hi all, 2020 here and I’m going set the record straight.

Look. I was just in the queue of years waiting my turn patiently I might add when the you know what hit the you know what and everyone started blaming it on me.

Viruses, hurricanes, droughts, wildfires, politicians and on and on.

I am an innocent bystander.

You could have stopped or slowed the virus but what did you do? You played games with the truth saying was no worse than the flu. You had time to get restrictions and testing onto place and what did you do?

Somehow you thought impeaching your governor was going to make things better. Guess what.

You’ve had years upon years of warning about the climate. Is it my fault the oceans are warmer and the droughts are longer and the rains when they come amount to a years worth in some places and it lands in 36 hours? Don’t hang that one on me.

My point is this – I showed up on time and I’ll be gone in two and half months. 2021 is sitting in the wings in horror and terrified of how you’ll treat him or her or it.

We’re innocent bystanders to the mess you’ve made.

So really, get your acts together and stop blaming someone else.

The Almost Last Perfect Day of the Year for Running

Tags

CSN&Y, Fall, Rocktober, Running, Tom Rush, Woodstock

If you run cross country or if you ran cross country you know all about October. You know about who didn’t run all summer because they are rounding into shape too late for the championship races.

You know how weather can be changeable and fickle and you know how the air smells and how the leaves crunch under your feet at this special time the year and the cross country season.

Today, in these parts, it was warm and sunny with a moderate warm breeze which I think they call a zephyr out west.

The thing about the last almost perfect day is that no one tells you when it has happened. The temperate days for running are drawing an end.

In chatting with a neighbor during the late morning we both remarked how beautiful the day was turning out to be. She asked if I was going run.

I told her that my Runners Club of America card would be revoked if I did not take advantage of a day like today.

So I laced up and ran. Instead of listening music or books on tape or a podcast or whatever else people listen to when they run I ran sans headphone as I always do.

And that’s when the Last Almost Perfect Day though hit me right between the eyes.

You don’t know when the Last Almost Perfect Day will be. I guess there are a lot of things that don’t know that are the last time will be either.

I’m going to go off into the weeds here because today’s run inspired me to take a deeper look at the world and my place in it.

Face it – We’re all just specks in the great scheme of things although sometimes we tend to think we are specks in control it’s obvious we are not.

Covid 19.

I’m out there running and sweating and striding and dodging traffic and waving at dogs, it was a great day to be a dog although I suspect every day is a great day to be a dog.

How do I know if today, October 15th will be the last almost perfect day to run? I don’t. No idea.

The day was given to me and I used it well. I’d like to think I did.

There’s a line in a Tom Rush song that goes ” We are only Stardust.” And Joni’s “Woodstock.” ” We are stardust, golden…”.

CSN&Y took that tune and killed it. Both versions tell a story and move you from point A to point B.

Off topic here but rounding third and heading for home.

The almost last perfect day might have been today.

I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.

Absurdly Belligerent

Tags

elections, Trump, voting

Or belligerently absurd.

In either case this behavior not the way to get yourself re-elected as President of the United States.

I’ve already voted.

Put Down Your Phone, Now, I Said Now!

Tags

bikes, dogs, phones, texting

This might fall into the rage writing category or at the very least the ” Old Man Yells at Cloud” school of thinking.

In any case kudos to the person who invented the term ” Doom Scrolling.” There aren’t enough kitten and puppy videos being produced lately so let’s get on it shall we?

I spent a good deal of the late, lamented and too soon gone summer on my front porch either, A – Playing my guitar, B – Reading a book or the local newspaper, C – Listening to the local nine on the radio play the national pastime or any combination of A or B and or C.

Which bring us, me and you dear reader to the point of the title of this piece.

You don’t see the word phone anywhere in my porch activities. But what I did notice was all manner of dog walkers, stroller pushers and even bicycle riders furiously engaged with their cellular telephones while riding or walking or jogging or pushing strollers.

One phone dog walker person deserves special mention.

She would walk right past my house and me with her daughter who was holding the leash of their dog, The kid had the dog and the Mom had the phone.

Mom never looked up while walking spending all her time not relating to her kid or the dog.

As one who has kids that are grown and gone I wanted to send her a wake up call and tell her that she’ll never have the summer of 2020, good or bad, with her daughter again.

It’s over, gone, deleted like that last text.

There are things and times you can’t get back.

See if you can spot the problem here:

Man riding bike – No helmet.

Man riding bike, no helmet with dog on leash.

Man riding bike no helmet with two dogs on leashes.

Man riding bike with no helmet, two dogs on leashes in traffic.

Man riding bike with no helmet, two dogs, in traffic and texting.

See title above.

Momma Don’t Understand It

Tags

cars, dirt roads, James Taylor, songs

Points and prizes if you can give me the tune from I’ve swiped that line. Well, no points or prizes but you do win an award for having the sort of memory that can recall a phrase from a song that’s 50 years old and you probably haven’t heard either in 50 years.

Meanwhile you’ve misplaced your phone, keys, wallet, glasses and so on.

But that’s not why I’m writing this.

This is about driving slowly down a country road.

An unpaved road, dirt and gravel.

When I was a kid we used to visit my uncle’s place in Jersey and he lived on a dirt road. His house was on a dirt road, my uncle did not live on the why don’t we do it in the road?

On order to keep down the dust the county or township or boro would send a tank truck filled with oil and the truck would spray oil on the dirt to minimize dust clouds.

I don’t think or at least I hope they don’t do that anymore. Seems like a really bad idea.

The next time you find yourself on a gravel stretch of road I suggest the following if it’s at all practical.

Stop the car, roll down all windows and roll along at about 3 miles an hour. You’ll hear music.

Fat soft rubber rolling on pieces of hard stone.

We’re all so used to hearing our cars barrel down asphalt and concrete streets that tire noise becomes just that – Tire Noise which might have been a good title for this piece.

I would have be some sort of natural born fool to wanna pass this way again.