Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

Austin is gone. I haven’t seen him in days.

Austin showed up earlier in 2023. Just after spring, is what I think. A white man in his mid-twenties, he appeared to be in good health. About 6′ 2″, his hair was bright, shiny copper. His shoulders were broad but he was otherwise lean, but didn’t seem very musular. His clothes, usually green or gray, the sort worn for hiking, were in excellent condition. A large backpack rested on his shoulders and back.

My interactions with him were brief and superficial. I nodded to him once and said, “Hello.” He didn’t answer. I held the door open for him another time and was rewarded with, “Thank you.” Thank you is the most I ever heard him say to anyone.

Quickly becoming a daily regular, Austin usually requested water or ordered tea. His voice was low, with a soft tone. I rarely heard him order, but saw the tea or water. He never spoke to other patrons and sat alone, sipping his drink and listening to his phone through earphones. He didn’t have a regular seat, as I do. He sat wherever there was space, stripping off his huge backback and setting it on the floor beside him. People tried to give him money several times; he always rejected it.

His routine presence intrigued me. I like watching people and observing matters. Regulars and their habits are like a weird hobby for me, which I call ‘coffee shop spotting’. I have made several friends in this way. I’ve often included aspects of what I observe in my fiction writing.

Since we’re located close to the Pacific Coast Trail (PCT), I speculated that Austin was walking it and stopping in Ashland for a break. Many hikers pass through here in that way. They’re a normal, regular sight. Many stock up on supplies, rest and clean up, pick up mail, and receive packages. I figured Austin was doing these things.

But one week became two, and two weeks expanded into several months. Austin spent the entire summer in Ashland, walking Ashland Street with his pack on his back, stopping at the coffee shop, and then going back out and walking down the street again. I never saw him anywhere else. I don’t know where he slept. He always presented a neat and clean impression.

Now he’s gone. I never met him but I worry about him. He’d become part of my daily landscape. I asked the coffee shop workers if they knew any more about him; no. Several shared my concerns and had made many of the same questions. Austin never elaborated to him about any of his plans and situation. I know that local homeless individuals tried becoming his friend, but he rebuffed him, too.

I hope he’s okay, and that he’s not same killer or something on the run, and that whatever brought him spend the summer in Ashland has been resolved in his favor. Maybe there never was anything. Perhaps he was just taking time out from his life for a while.

It shouldn’t be important to me; other people have come and gone. It’s that Austin was a regular but an enigma. That made him a puzzle.

Now he’s gone but the puzzle remains, probably never to be solved. I hope he wasn’t injured or hurt. In my mind, I’ve sent him back to the world where he started. He’s resumed his life, and is back in college.

One can hope.

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: philosophical

Hello, fellow life travelers. Welcome to another day of the journey.

Today is Friday, October 6, 2023. Buoyed by a balmy zephyr it’s already seventy outside and the sunshine rules. 86 F will be our high, I’m assured.

I’m in a reflective mood today, the product of a night of dreams. Days often seem so closely like the one the day before it and so in, like we’re standing in a hall of mirrors looking backwards and forwards to the same thing being endlessly repeated.

Not true, of course. The seasons change. So does the daily weather. So does how we physically feel and appear, typically in small ways, hour by hour, day by day, month by month through our piece of time. Yeah, many changes are seen but unless there’s a sudden sharp intrusion, most of our visible changes come in slow increments. Sometimes the pace of change can take a lifetime. I’m often surprised looking in the mirror or suddenly unable to do something that I used to do without thought. The change was coming but I didn’t see it.

After reading about the speaker selection process going on, The Neurons are having fun. Politicians who horrify me are being mentioned, like Steve Scalise and Jim Jordan. Neither of them have done anything in my purview which generates respect and admiration; instead, I found myself mildly ill at the thought they might become Speaker. I can’t imagine them being reliably intelligent or skillful enough to pull together the GOP and keep them focused. I’d use the metaphor about the GOP being as unmanageable as a herd of cats, but I like cats and don’t want to insult them.

Back to The Neurons. After reading and thinking, I found myself with “Better Man” by Pearl Jam circling the morning mental music stream (Trademark swirling). Jordan? Scalise? Can’t they find a better man or woman? Like that, Eddie Vedder is singing, “Can’t find a better man,” in my mental stream as The Neurons giggle and guffaw. Silly little immature booger heads.

Stay positive and keep reaching for the stars. Let’s embrace this day and go forward. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: mellow

Greetings to the first day of October. Sunday finds us awash in blue sky in Ashlandia, where the apples are plentiful and the deer are eating well. We saw twenty-three of them around town yesterday while running errands, usually in small herds of four to six.

It’s a chilly day despite sunshine that stings the eyes with its brilliance. 48 F now, we’re doing 66 F today.

October has special meaning for me. I joined the military in October, 1974. Twenty-one years later, I retired in October. And my wife and I bought this house in October of 2006.

Meanwhile, yesterday’s rain postponed our E.T. showing to this evening. This is the second rescheduling; two weeks ago, the outdoor movie screening was postponed to yesterday because of hazardous air quality due to wildfire smoke.

Keeping this short today, so I’ll just go with the music. The Neurons have sowed the seeds of “Wheel in the Sky”, a 1977 song by Journey. I’ve romantically identified with the song’s idea that everything changes quickly and in surprising ways. As Journey portrays in the song, most of us can be anywhere tomorrow. I was in the military in ’77 and wholly agreed with the idea that I could be anywhere the next day. My Air Force units were usually tagged for mobility. That meant that we could be deployed to elsewhere as needed. Although stability has become my norm in this stage of my civilian life, weather disasters or personal upheaval such as health issues can force a shift with little warning. I’ve seen it happen with friends and family.

Beyond that, I moved numerous times as a child, because my father was in the military. Much of that was overseas for Dad, but Mom and we kids remained stateside. Dad was enlisted and that pay wasn’t much. So Mom drove us to live with relatives in Chicago, Iowa, and Pennsylvania. Then Dad would return and we’d head to Texas, California, Virginia, Ohio. Then I joined the military. For the next twenty-one years, I was assigned across the US and around the world on temporary, special, and permanent assignments. Eventually, I retired in California and moved to Oregon.

Remain positive, be strong, and keep chill. Let me finish this coffee and then I’ll kick off the day. Have a better one. Here’s the music. Cheers

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

Meeting my sisters again, I reflected on happiness and success. Each sister has demonstrated at one time or another that they seemed supremely happy and successful only to have disaster, devastation, upheaval, foisted on them, forcing them to begin again. It’s always a journey. You can find and lose it all repeatedly. Learning to keep your balance as it swirls around you remains key to me.

Neighbor Tale

Friends of ours who live about a mile away in another neighborhood related that they came out to a bloody yard the other morning. They speculated that a bear got a deer. Seems both animals enjoy the apple tree in their yard. No carcass there; I suggested it may have been a cougar but it was related to me, no, they found a huge bear dump in their yard, so they thought it was a bear.

Then they remembered, hey, they have security cameras! Let’s see what they show. Well, they showed a deer bounding up to the apple tree and a cougar pouncing on it immediately. The camera recorded the scene as the cougar carried the carcass down the street, across into a neighbor’s yard, and into a wooded ravine.

That’s life, some days. Made me want to order my cats, you are never going outside again. But the young ‘un makes life miserable for us when we keep him in. Poor excuse, but that, too, is life.

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Monday found me helping my wife deliver food to elderly, incapacitated, and disabled people, part of a community effort. Someone does it everyday Monday through Friday. Meals are provided for weekends and holidays on request as part of the system.

We were delivering six frozen meals to a new person on the route. We were instructed to call him first, to let him know we were on the way. He came out of his house as we pulled into his driveway. Obese, on oxygen, in a wheelchair, he looked about fifty years old, at least ten years younger than me.

Sad and shocked, I wondered about the circumstances of luck, genetics, work, and habits that brought the guy to that point. Most of life seems like a lottery, and the health lottery seems like the cruelest and most random of all.

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

It’s amazing. When he was a kid, he usually had two pairs of shoes, known as his ‘good’ shoes and his play shoes. Good shoes were also known as ‘dress-up’ shoes and ‘nice’ shoes. Play shoes became gym shoes and good shoes became school shoes. Dress shoes were added into the mix.

This trio — gym, or ‘tennis’ shoes, as they grew to be called — school shoes, dress shoes — were the status quo for years. A second pair of school shoes was added, along with cleated shoes for sports.

During his military years, he stayed with the triumvirate of shoes for his personal life. Gym shoes were still tennis shoes (though he didn’t play tennis), along with dress shoes and ‘jeans’ shoes. He began playing racquetball, so racquetball shoes were added to the mix. So were sandals. Then running shoes joined the shoe group. Military requirements dictated three more pairs of shoes: low-quarters (which were a super-shiny version of dress shoes), chukka boots, and combat (or paratrooper) boots. So it mostly stayed for his military career, except slippers were added through Christmas presents, and jungle boots and desert boots were added to fit his mission needs. The three pairs of military footwear were now five, because they’d done away with the chukkas.

Civilian life post military retirement brought on more shoe requirements. Aging helped. And shoe marketing. Now he added beach shoes, boating shoes, hiking shoes, walking shoes, and several pairs of ‘jeans’ shoes, also now called ‘casual’ shoes. There were work shoes, so he looked the role in the ‘business casual’ environment, but the military shoes were gone.

Going into marketing added more shoes to go with suits. Brown, gray, and black shoes were needed. He still had running and hiking shoes, along with walking shoes, jeans shoes, and casual work shoes. He was wearing cargo shorts frequently, and needed shoes to go with those. Moving from a pleasant year round clime to a snowy and wet environment brought up needs for wet weather and cold weather shoes.

Now he’s come to retirement. The suit shoes sit in boxes on shelves, but the rest have become so complex and numerous. He purged his shoes regularly, giving them away. His feet had widened and his feet’s needs had changed through the years, and that dictated changes as well.

Like so many other things, it’d become so very, very complicated. He wished for the days again when he had just two pairs of shoes. Given how life goes, he figured that circle would complete itself when he grew older.

Next: socks.

Saturday’s Wandering Thought

We were talking about classes we wished we’d had when we were young. Like, explanations about how much your body might change as you age. We knew that would happen, of course. Saw it in mother and father, aunts and uncles, etc. But how do you impress how much of it’s within and outside of your control, and how there is an accumulative impact? Despite exercise and health, some of these things take you by surprise and take you down, mentally, physically, emotionally.

Maybe such information is now being taught. Of course, with the net and technology, more of it is available.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: uncertain

It’s morning in Ashlandia, where the children aren’t sure but the parents are very confident. Current temp is a little warm for the AM, 74 F. Low 90s are kicked around as the high although one source says it’ll only be 89 F. Like, where do they get that? Well, we’ll see, won’t we? Cool breeze just started kissing my neck, trying to coax me into a better mood. I’ll see what they have to offer.

Another battle of the dreams for my night. Long dreams but once again, I had the one about the house flying through space. Wakin’ from it, I argued with myself. The dream self was worried ’bout the cats being out in space again. Wakin’ self told dream self, relax, we’re not in space. Real tug of war as The Neurons would take one side and then the other.

In world news, things are bad and getting worse. Over to you, David.

Well, that’s how it feels with so many weather disasters underway, along with the war in Ukraine. In good news, many companies are seeing excellent sales. Because that will really matter in the long run, yeah?

Sure. The world will be burning and flooding, almost devoid of glaciers at the poles, and the news headlines will be, Amazon had record sales. And everyone will be like, thank god they can deliver by drones.

Of course, I still write. The world is burning and flooding, but I write on. Just like everyone else, pursuing my own agenda. It’s all crashin’, so what will help me cope and get on by? Well, give me a cuppa coffee and let me write a tale.

See, that’s the thing. While a greater mess happening to the whole of us and our world, each of us are dealing with our private addictions and desires. The big stuff happening is so big and abstract in many ways, so debilitating and demoralizing, we respond by turning to something which we can try to control. At least, that’s my theory. Probably wrong as the decision to end “Firefly”.

Writing has inspired The Neurons’ song choice today. I’m like, what happens now, all the while, entertaining different directions in me head, worrying about where I’m at with it (this feels like a box), trying to bring it all together and to an end without losin’ the plot. Out out that came the James Gang with “Walk Away” from 1971. Makes sense if you look at the song words. Think they’re called lyrics.

“Takin’ my time, choosin’ my lines,
“Tryin’ to decide what to do.”

And that’s what I’m doing, trying to decide what to do, searching for the words and sentences. They’re there, just waiting for them to emerge, kind of worried because they’re not what I expected.

Stay pos and be strong. Here we go, another day in the life of (insert your name here). Coffee is up; let’s go. Cheers

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