I’ve been watching WW2 documentaries on YT to pass the time and maybe learn something.
I have watched several on The Battle of Britain. The nazis keep making the same mistakes and the Brits always win,
Last week I was downtown enjoying a cup of coffee in a small vest pocket kind of park right off one of the main streets in town.
If you happen to be on the curb of this street you often get subjected to all sorts of noisy cars with loud mufflers and exhaust systems that are loud either by design as in on purpose or as in neglect as in the tailpipes fell off and you don’t care or can’t afford to repair bill.
The park sits back from the street and offers a respite from the din of relentless traffic.
I have s streak going with coffee and this park that I started last summer and I hope continue until the weather makes the streak untenable.
Drinking coffee, minding my own business as I was the only one in the park until an older fellow came walking through occasionally leaning on a cane he was carrying.
” I don’t really need this,” he offered, ” showing me the cane but it helps with my sore leg. The one I broke and had surgery on to repair.’
” I need to get back to work” he said although judging from his struggling gait and his age I thought work would or should out of the question for him.
He mentioned something about being a roof and then I knew for sure his working days needed to over. I know a roofer once who said that by the age of 30 your knees were shot from all that squatting and balancing on pitched surfaces.
We agreed the cooler weather was no friend to broken bones even after they had healed.
The man said he had to go find his brother and just like that he was gone.
A passing conversation reaching out for a friendly face, mine I guess, which leads me to another story about an older man.
I once wrote post about him called ” The Grey Man” but it seems to have disappeared from these pages.
There is a house on the corner of two intersecting streets that once was most likely covered in red brick. The red brick remains but sometime in the past it was covered on that sort of fake grey stone that seems to have pink tint buried in it.
At one time the building was probably a bar or hotel judging from the angled front steps and what’s left of what must’ve been a sign over the door and the fact the whole door and step units were placed at an angle facing both streets.
Now I think it’s just apartments or maybe rooms, certainly not in the high rent district.
I was driving to work one morning. It was early. The sun was still below the horizon and the sky was a half light grey as though you knew it was going be cloudy all day anyway.
There was a man seated on the steps wearing old and dirty clothes and no matter color they might have been at one time the clothes were now grey. His long beard was grey and the smoke from his cigarette provided a grayish haze around his face.
He was the grey man in front of his grey house.
There is a guy who lives in my neighborhood sorta behind and to the left of my house. The blocks around here are funny as they are divided by a church parking lot and and alley that is covered with gravel not asphalt. They would also be divided by a church because what good is church parking lot without a church?
He lives behind the church, off the alley and hidden by trees so I can’t always see him or his trucks or his camper or his grandson’s tuner cars but I can hear them very clearly.
For today let’s just focus on the trucks.
There appear to be at least two. One is hand painted black ( and I mean with a brush and a can of Number 9 gloss black paint) and used to be covered with decals from motor oil companies, a couple of NASCAR stickers and the usual – Wife and dog missing, reward for dog.
The paint now obscures the decals much like if someone spray painted over hieroglyphics in King Tut’s tomb.
I would date the truck from the pre-unleaded gas era which began sometime, a long time ago, it doesn’t matter.
The guy who once tried to start up a conversation with me, and was looking for a fight when he asked if I thought immigrants should get medical benefits. I deftly dodged that talking point.
The black truck lacks not only a catalytic converter to be sure but also a muffler. How it ever passes state inspections beyond or maybe state automobile inspections are socialism.
The other truck, herein referred to as truck #2 is 1980’s metallic blue. It bears it’s scars well and also falls in the no muffler category of automobile sins.
Both trucks, 1 and 2 are perpetually filled with yard waste and or junk.
When parked on the street they make the Exxon Valdez oil spill look like childs play. There is a joke about how many quarts you get to the mile lurking somewhere.
The muffler less duo are often driven around the block and through the alley at a speed we might call in marine terms a no wake zone. They just kind of roll making much more noise than their speeds would indicate they normally would.
There’s no real point to this post other than an observation I’ve made about things and people and cars and trucks and leaking V8 engine blocks.
Thanks to a shove from the Runners World website I am embarking on a 40 days in a row runapalooza.
From Memorial day to the Fourth of July for sure and beyond if feel like it.
I haven’t run two days in a row in years. I always needed my day off but now throwing caution to the winds I’m on day 12 of 40.
I’m starting to need this. Who knew?
40 days, same as Lent, same as Ahab chased the white whale.
Call me Ishmael.
Following up on the previous post of almost the same name.
That replayed football game’s 4th quarter happens to coincide with a local station’s broadcast on their point 2 as in, 8.1, 8.2, 8.3 etc…that I like.
Eight point two shows two episodes of The Monkees starting at 5pm on Sundays. The fourth quarter of the replay games shares airtime with Los Monkees.
Watching the show again after 50 something years is hard to describe. The boys were so young, who wasn’t? The music was pretty good and it turns out they were talented performers in their own rights.
Mike Nesmith already had written a hit or two, Peter Tork was in a couple of working bands, Davy Jones had performed in the West End and on Broadway and Mickey Dolenz had tv chops.
Some of the music holds up pretty well even after 50 years. Some of it doesn’t.
It’s the smirking asides from Nesmith and the boys that I see now for the first time. I suspect they all knew how ridiculous the whole scene was and so they decided to be as ridiculous as they could be.
They were fine with management as long as they towed the line but once they realized they had power since they were the stars and wanted to make their own music they were done, cooked, kaput.
I would toss in a Monkee tune here but you all know which ones are your favs and besides I’m tired of fighting “Skip Ads” on You Tube so you can “Skip Ads” yourself.
I’ve also had it it with ” You’re not signed in,” Start a free trial account” and ads right in the middle of whatever movie I’m watching. Ads are your problem, not mine.
As far as going bed early, or late or even to at all it don’t matter as it’s always Groundhog Day but without Bill Murray or And McDowell or Ned Ryerson.
Honestly, we have it pretty good overall.
So you better get ready, they maybe coming your town.
I figure I’ll write the piece and then maybe a title will come to me or it won’t. As they say in country music – ” It Don’t Matter.”
I think I just happened upon a title.
Along the lines of passing time these days I offer these observations:
I watched a replay of Super Bowl 31 or XXXl as the NFL likes to call it. I have no idea when it occurred except that I probably, maybe, most likely watched it. There were no leather helmets involved so it somewhere in te recent but maybe distant past.
I found the time waster to be fairly interesting as John Madden and Pat Summerall called the game. Since it was x number of years ago there was serious lack of video and teevee bells and whistles in the replay department which I found refreshing.
Even better was how the game was edited down to three or maybe 2 hours leaving all of the in game commercials on the sidelines, if you will and whatever dreadful halftime show that actually took place never made it to air.
I remember when my kids were young and my Sunday afternoons were not free for football viewing I would tape the games, yes, tape the games, and then watch them at 11pm that same evening having embargoed myself from the final scores so I could be genuinely surprised that those New York Football Jets had actually won a game if they did.
I could watch a whole game in about 25 minutes fast forwarding past the pre game, kickoffs, replays, commercials, halftime show, commercials, replays, commercials and commercials and commercials. Boom and done, Jets win, Jets lose and I go to bed.
But back to the matters at hand these days. I have been consciously varying my schedule day to day in order to change things up. Go to bed early, go to bed late, take a nap, don’t take a nap.
Then I read an article today somewhere cautioning me on how to avoid falling into the trap of going to bed early, going to bed late and so on.
I walk and run, I play guitar and piano and I have a love hate thing going with the NY Times crosswords.
Sometimes the puzzles are too cute for their own good.
Last night I did one where there was supposed to be a four letter word in one box although neither the puzzle nor the Times tells you this upfront.
The word was “Back” so a four letter answer became “Back Bay” or ” Pay Back or Get Back” and so on.
We do not appreciate extra cuteness around here these days so please leave your cleverness at the front door.
And as for the title, It Don’t Matter.
Next post – Part Two of It Don’t Matter.
I wasn’t sure if I should title this piece ” Passing Time” or “These Days” so I came to the obvious conclusion I should use both.
Here we are passing time these days or these days we’re passing time. I can probably still reuse the titles since these days I have nowhere to go and all day to get there. Passing Days anyone? These Times? Passing These days? The possibilities are somewhat limited but might be good for a week’s worth of observations.
I have been watching WWll documentaries on the Battle of Britain. The Nazis keep making the same mistakes and the Brits always prevail.
Yes, I know history repeats itself more often than we realize or would like admit. We keep making the same mistakes over and over again.
Supposedly Jackson Browne was 16 years old when he wrote his song,”These Days.” Pretty self aware for a kid.
We could use some self awareness in certain quarters so that history would stop repeating itself for a while and give us a break.
Thanks to everyone who is till at work keeping the rest of us safe.
Or why has it taken me so long to figure this out.
I’m no longer in a hurry to get anywhere or do anything.
I never use the self checkout lines at the library or super market. The chance for human interaction always takes precedence over the need for speed.
I no longer make a right turn on red unless there is someone behind me making ugly faces urging me to go.
The parking garage no longer has real people or fake people at the exits so I have to trust the kiosk to accuartely read my ticket, bill me for the appropriate time and then I pay via credit card.
I was at the bank. The roving teller, you know with the i pad asks me why I’m there.
I say I want to deposit a check. i Pad person says you can take a picture of the check make the deposit on your phone. I say no thanks and patiently wait in line.
Me and the teller chat about the weather, about the weekend coming up and about the holidays.
Rule of thumb – If you can talk to a person versus using a machine for goods or services always go with the person.
And not the title song from the movie ” Summer of ’42.”
As in the seasons know exactly when to change or at least they used to not too long ago.
It’s August 1st, July has been swept aside as the pennant races heat up post trade deadline and summer has taken on a decidedly different feel. We’re settled in with heat and humidity and gardens are no longer sprouting and vegetables aren’t emerging anymore. Everything that you’re going to get from your work in the dirt is already here.
Switching gears as I often do this post was inspired by me being out on a run yesterday through a tree lined and leafy neighborhood. The shade was great. It’s mid-summer and some trees have started to take notice of the shorter daylight hours by shedding leaves and bark, notably the Sycamores which are swinging into their usual summer pattern of getting ready for eventual autumn.
There are bark fragments everywhere along the curb and as mentioned above the seasons do know when to change.
As a long time runner and cross country veteran I’m dialed into summer running which leads to September miles followed by October races and November marathons.
I’m the last person to step on the accelerator in hopes of giving summer the bum’s rush out the door but I’m also a realist – I know what’s coming.
Sometime later this month and on into September the streets will be filled with fall marathoners getting in their needed miles before they test themselves over 26.2. For some runners it will be too little too late in terms of building up mileage but a couple of extra miles never hurt anyone.
The summer knows what’s up, knows what’s coming and knows September is inevitable.
So do the Sycamores.
If you watched the video I posted a few minutes ago you were no doubt slammed with ads imploring you to watch TV on a certain internet platform.
For the record I don’t watch TeeVee on TeeVee so I’m not about to watch it on my laptop or any other compatible device.
I’d like to thank whomever invented the mute button. There’s a person who deserves a Grammy or Oskie or Tony and the gratitude of a grateful nation until someone else invents a way to disable the mute function.
Then that person will no doubt deserve an award ( see above) bestowed by the American Academy of Bestowers of such awards.
Time to see if the laptop floats.