I Went Somewhere Last Night but I Don’t Know Where I Was, How I Got There OR How I Got Back Home



Sounds like the lead in or a set up for a three day blackout bender of a weekend but no.

The big band played a gig in East Greenville last night which is somewhere up there  – motions up and to the right.  Originally we were booked into Red Hill but the gig was switched  to the fire hall in in East Greenville.

As I said, I sorta knew where East Greenville was but not really.  GPS to the rescue.

I plugged in the address, got the driving directions and was off.  Forty eight miles, arrive in 1 Hour, 17 minutes.  Easy enough.  I’m on the road but I really don’t know where I’m going.  My faith in the GPS unit is unflinching and I suppose that’s how people drive off cliffs or into lakes.

” Go right on Lakeside Drive, turn at the boat ramp and go straight.”  Glug, glug.

I informed one of my bandmates about my lost in space predicament and he proceeded to draw me a map in the air  waving his arms .  ” Allentown is here and Pottstown is here and so East Greenville would be right about where my nose is.”  I get my Potts mixed up, we could have been near Pottsville.

During the drive I saw to my amazement a sign for the Tacony Palmyra Bridge which I though was way over there near his left ear.

We play the gig, I’m dialed in and the date goes well.

I load out, punch in ” Go Home” and  the GPS says turn right on Quakertown Road only it says Quackertown and of course Reading is pronounced as Reeding.  I wonder how the GPS does with Ypsilanti?

The funny thing is that the brains in the GPS take me home on a different route and amazingly it’s still only 1 hour and 17 minutes.  How can this be?  Have I drifted in to Einstein’s Time Space E=MC squared theory?  Am I bending time and space?  Do I have Marty McFly’s GPS?

I observe the speed limit so there’s no way I’m going 186,000 miles a second.  It’s a 10 year old Subaru – come on.

I went somewhere last night,  got there ( somewhere)  and got home.

Go figure.





This is a True Story


, , , , ,

During my prolonged summer and early fall absence from these pages I’ve been awarded customer of the month twice at the local orthopedic surgeon store.  The details are unimportant.

I highly recommend the nerve block for any surgery.  It’s got a delightful aroma of hickory with a hint of whimsy.  Plus, your arm, leg, shoulder or knee feels like a 2 x 4 for a day and a half after the surgery so there’s that.  I have no idea what it costs but I’m telling you it’s a bargain at twice the price.  Which bring us to our most recent MRI.

I get suited up or dressed down as the case may be and as I’m lying (laying?) on the table that’s about to slide me into the magnetic tunnel the MRI tech asks if I would like to listen to music instead of bricks rolling around in a dryer.  I say yes – what do you have?

He hands me the play list and I say channel 788 which is the Frank Sinatra station.  The quality of the audio in the headphones is terrible but I don’t care.  I’m just hoping I haven’t forgotten if I have a pacemaker or a stent or any other piece of metal in my body which I guess would get zoomed out of me at hypersonic magnetic speed once the machine starts.  Clearly there would be blood everywhere, all of it mine along with an internal organ or two draped over the MRI machine.  And so much paperwork – Oy.

In I go, the music begins, it’s old Blue Eyes, the Chairman of the Board and the first sounds I hear are… BANG BANG BANG BANG AND NOW THE END IS NEAR AND SO I FACE THE FINAL CURTAIN …BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG…

It’s ” My Way” one of Frankie’s biggest hits not exactly appropriate but I laugh it off without moving cause you can’t move once the magnets start taking pictures.  That tune is followed by Dean Martin’s ” Ain’t that a Kick in the Head?” and soon the hammering stops, I’m back on my feet and on the way home.

I don”t know if Frank was trying to reach me from the great beyond or if I was a victim of a simple twist of fated black humor.  But Frank, if you’re listening keep those hits coming.  I’ll take the pumpkin spice nerve block next time.


Slogans or Mottos or Whatever

I saw a truck, one of those mobile shredder vehicles.  You know we come to you and shred your important documents.  The writing on the side of the truck was this..

” Destroying your past to secure your Future.”

Think about that for a second or two… I’ll wait.

Kind of a disturbing statement at face value but on the other hand it does make sense.

Sadly, now we have to shred our trash before we toss it because bad guys.

Just When You Thought…

I had pretty much decided that my high mileage days were over.  No more marathons, no more slogging through June, July and August in an effort to find myself once again undertrained in November.

But then this shows up in the mail today –  An advert for a local half in September that I’ve run before.  Immediately my brain shifts into gear:

” It’s only 13, it’s September and the weather will be warm, I can do this, I don’t need a formal training program, if I get to 10 I can suck up the last three…” and on and on into the miasma of self delusion and why nots.

Stay tuned – Full blown delusion may yet be on the horizon.

And Luck

A good friend recently suffered a ” mild” heart attack.  Terms are relative I suppose.

He’s ok.

As for going forward with a prognosis the cardiologist told him this:

” It’s lifestyle, diet and exercise.”

” And luck.”


Is It Me and Overheard at the Market This Morning

Is it just me or is anyone else unhappy with the format of WP these days?  I don’t like the layout of the reader or my followed sites. Grrrrr.

I swear this is true –

I was at our beloved Central Market this morning walking past watermelons on my left  and a butcher stand on my right when I heard,” I’ll take the bag of chicken hearts.”

Really, do ya think I could make THAT up?

I did not stop to see who made the comment or to view the bag of the you – know -whats.



This and That, Here and There and Still Water

Spanning the globe…Here’s an old story that never made it to print:

On a walk a while back I happened upon a cat lazing on a lawn.  He, she, it was a friendly sort and I asked a neighbor sitting on a front porch if the cat belonged to her.

” Oh no,” was the reply.  ” The cat belongs to no one and to all of us.”

“The cat was adopted by a family that moved away recently and they couldn’t take her with them.  The cat was already a neighborhood favorite so a couple of the neighbors got together and here’s what we decided.”

” I feed the cat every day, she sleeps at my next door neighbor’s house and the people in the green house across the street take her to the vet. She seems to like the arrangement.”

A nice story with a happy ending.

The other night on the porch listening to the local nine on the box a friend and me were discussing our impending ” One day we ain’t gonna work no more” plans.

And my friend Bobby said, ” I think I deserve to just and stare at still water for as long as I want.”

I thought about that for a second and said, ” Me too.”

Lock Your Car, Take Your Keys

I’m miss writing and running.  My writing is a direct result of my running has been lacking because running has been lacking.

Pick the sore body part – foot, knee, ankle, hip – I got beaucoup of them.

But onto the subject of today’s nonsense.

To condense a long story I found myself at a church last week which is located in a pretty rural community.  I was there for an evening band rehearsal and what with it being a gentle summer evening and being in the middle of nowhere I decided to leave my car unlocked with all the windows rolled down.  I had my guitar with me in the building – What was there to steal?

Once upon a time I lived in an even more rural setting where on Friday afternoons after work when I arrived home I could leave the car unlocked with keys in the ignition and on Monday that VW would be right where I left it.

It was a simpler time, I was a simpler person and my needs and possessions were few.

This morning I stopped at the local coffee emporium about which I have written about on these screens many times.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and made my way out to the patio  where I could see my car with open windows in all it’s unlocked glory.  It is a simple pleasure to be sure.

Leaving the car open and unlocked is not a habit I plan to cultivate but I kind of like the possibility of being able to do just that.

The car thinks it’s pretty cool too.