Tag: just goofing around

Something Else

The signs of aging pile up,

Promising on some days to beat you up.

Hair losses, hair changes, where the hell does it go?

Why can’t I get it to look right, why won’t it look just so?

Sometimes you ponder the person you had been.

You think you see them staring back, hiding from within.

Other times you wonder, if you ever were that way?

And if you were, what can you do to look that way again?

The weight you gain, how the body thickens,

Everything sinks and sags and generally looks in ways that sicken.

Then someone tells you how great you look,

and you wonder, is that a joke?

If you think I look good today, you want to say,

you should have seen me back in the day.

I was something else.

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Friday’s Political Thoughts

My wife and I ventured out of the house and down the street a mile to the Presbyterian Church. We’d signed up for the latest COVID vax shot being offered by Wellness 2000.

All went well with our paperwork and we joined the line for our turn. The woman ahead was wearing a pink ball cap. When she glanced back, I saw that it had “,la” on it. A Kamala supporter!

I began leaning forward to speak to her when my wife stepped up to the woman and said, “I love your hat.”

Nodding, I added, “I was about to say the same thing.”

The woman behind us said, “I was admiring it, too. That’s a great hat.”

The hat wearer replied, “Thank you. I suppose it depends on which side you’re on.”

The rest of us, joined by another woman, agreed. Then several of the women said, “You’re on the good side. We are, too.”

Vote blue in 2024.

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Coffee warms my throat as I watch fat dark gray clouds sailing across the sky. Sunlight clears the clouds, dramatically lighting their heights. Looks like fall, alright.

Many people live by the weather when it comes to the season. I’m one of those. My attire today are jeans. Long pants. Long sleeve shirt.

Wind, chill, and rain, and lack of sunshine pulled the decision to don jeans free of my brain cells. Much as anything, it’s that feel to the air, the color of the sky, and the mood it all presents as winds chase leaves down the street, that the seasonal change is really here.

So, I’m wearing jeans, looking back on the hot, smoky summer, shifting my gaze toward the future, to the coming winter, and what it might bring.

Much like my ancestors probably did. Without the jeans.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

I was walking down street when a silver Hyundai Santa Fe pulled out of their drive and turned my way. As they came on, I realized that a can was resting on top of the car on the passenger side.

“Hey,” I called. Gesturing, I tried playing charades with the driver: something. Car. Roof. Meanwhile, I hollered at him, “There’s a can on your car’s roof.”

Beaming, he gave me a big, friendly wave.

“No, no,” I cried out. “There’s something on your car’s roof.”

He drove on around the corner and was gone.

C’est le vie.

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Winday’s Wandering Thoughts

The Starbucks lobby was locked. A sign said, “Sorry, lobby closed for maintenance.”

I considered Remix across the street. It was already busy and its seating had never suited me.

Back in the car, I headed to Noble’s on 4th, my other go-to place. I mostly mix it up between those two these months. My spouse has been campaigning for RoCo lately, so I veered over to East Main to hit it up.

I used to regularly visit RoCo. Named the Roasting Company back then I haven’t visited since BC; Before COVID. A small converted home, it was frequently packed. Outlets were limited and that’s needed for my power hungry laptop.

But my wife claimed it had changed. I trust my wife so I found parking and headed in.

She was right. Much lighter than it used to be inside, they’d added power strips screwed to the benches so outlets were plentiful. Not very crowded this day, either.

Classic rock played. Who can argue with Bowie, Pat Benatar, the Animals, the Mysterios, Stray Cats, and Pink Floyd providing background music?

A productive writing session was won. Of course, this is Saturday. Things change on weekdays. But it worked out today and I liked it, so I’ll try Monday. See if I have another good coffee writing session.

That’s what’s important.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I enjoy being in the coffee shop and witnessing people encountering one another. They’re often so pleased, excited, or happy to meet. Short hugs are exchanged, and there’s often smiles and laughter.

Just a tonic for my spirits when I’m exposed to such joy.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

It was a weird juxtaposition.

I parked in the coffee shop’s lot. A silver SUV battle scar from its travels had the front passenger door open. I glanced that way. It seemed like the SUV was someone’s home. A woman was in the seat, her foot sticking out the open door, as she painted her toenails pink.

I thought of multiple things associated with painting nails. To feel and look attractive. Or maybe to fit in. To seem normal to others. You know, norms, values, mores, judgements. Or carrying forward from the past, trying to remain that person they were.

Then again, I could be all wrong. Might be that they’re not living in their car. They could just be a traveler, pausing to get coffee, taking advantage of a break in their schedule to do their nails.

It’s the kind of scene that inspires questions and thinking about our life and society.

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Someday’s Wandering Thoughts

Fall has slid into the interseason space called autmer. Autumn with summer flavors. Night is mostly when we feel autumn. The air has some cold chompers. And the day looks like autumn. But then the sun strikes and summer strolls in.

All this causes a hot and cold thing at night. We’re not running heat nor air conditioning. Windows are closed day and night, except for mid-morning and mid-evening spurts to freshen the air. I end up running hot and cold in bed and sleep with one leg and that half of my body out from other the covers and the other side keeping warm under the sheets and blankets. Whole Jekyll/Hyde thing.

It’s always my left side that is out, too hot to be under cover. The right side wants shelter. Feels like my body might be striving to create some overworked political metaphor.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Confession.

I sometimes pretend to remember things that I don’t readily recall.

Like, a friend will ask me something like, “Do you remember when Magursky hit that home run in 1968 in the Dodger game?”

Honestly, I can reply, I was twelve, I don’t remember, I wasn’t much into baseball then, and the baseball I followed was basically limited to the Pirates.

But I know my buddy will insist on trying to help me remember. “Oh, come on, don’t you remember? It was the longest home run ever! Completely out of the park. You must remember it. Wait, was it 68? Or was in ’69? Oh, come to think of it, it might have bee ’67.”

I’ve been down this path. I know how the convo will go. Meanwhile, my brain has wandered off, singing the theme song to the “Milton the Monster” cartoon.

So I fib, and I say, “Yes! Of course I remember it,” matching his enthusiasm. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it was ’68 because in ’69 is when the Mets won the World Series, wasn’t it? Remember Tom Seaver and the Miracle Mets? And that was the same year Andretti won the Indy 500, remember?”

And he’ll answer, “Yes, of course I do. Andretti. Indy. Right.”

And we’ll go on happily like that, because that’s a small part of why we’re friends.

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