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Tuesday Tidbits


Each of us deserves to be forgiven, if only for
Our persistence in keeping our small boat afloat
When so many have gone down in the storm.

-Robert Bly



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 I'm so old I can remember our phone in Seaton was JU(STICE)-5251.


I'm so old I remember doing the civil defense (nuclear bomb drills) in class.

I'm so old I can remember when a glass of beer cost 50 cents.

I'm so old I can remember cultivating corn and shelling it on Ed's farm.

I'm so old I can remember fighting the Wombie about who would gas the car up with FREE gas at the elevator.

I'm so old I remember thinking how neat these new Bic pens were.

I'm so old I can remember when the Wombie and I sold Grit magazine.

 "But I'll never be as young as I am right now..."
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It's not too early to start shopping for Christmas.



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Sure, it was scripted, but funnier than hell. 


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I witnessed a real hit-and-run last Saturday morning at 4:00 am.  Because the kids were in Northlandia taking care of the pooch was our responsibility.  I decided to go over after my usual 3:00 am wake up time.  By the time I cleaned up, found all the keys it was 3:30-3:45.  Their place is 7 miles away but easy because you stay on one road practically all the way.  About three quarters of the way I saw in my rear view mirror what looked like a truck enter the road from a side street or business and plunk (a Seaton technical term) a car.  I definitely heard something but I thought they were playing chicken or maybe it was road rage.  The truck then came up on me pretty fast and I start goosing it not wanting to get in the middle of whatever is happening.  As I pass the intersection I hear the horn of the other driver following the truck approach at the light and kind of squeeze toward him in an effort to flag them down.  As I proceed the truck turns into McDonald's with the car following him.  I was more than happy to get out of that little urban skirmish. 

When I got the pooch-de-hooch taken care of I was curious as to whether the cars would still be at McDonald's on my way back home.  Sure enough the truck had pulled into the parking spot and the little car had pulled up right behind him to insure he wouldn't get away.  The police were there and presumably justice will prevail.  

Since that incident I have questioned whether or not I should have pulled in to assist the individual who got crunched.  At the time my thoughts were:  this is Florida, a carry state.  Do I want to get shot for being a Good Samaritan, obviously a title I am not usually confused with.  Secondly, should I have pulled in and notified the officers on the scene I saw what I did?  I went on reasonably assured the incident was taken care of.  Now I have a nagging suspicion I should do something.  I think I will stop in the Largo police department and tell them I saw the incident.  It might mean a court appearance, but isn't that our civic duty?  What do you think?

 PS - Yesterday morning I stopped at the Largo PD, entered the empty foyer and found a phone that said "Dial 9317 If You Want Service".  I dialed and talked to a lady somewhere who, after I explained my purpose for the call, simply asked who I was and my phone number.  Never saw a live person. 

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Our thoughts go to the son-in-law's family this week.  Drew, Kenzie's husband, lost his father, Dennis, unexpectedly last week at the young age of 65.  While not as old as him, I am in the next generation to go and this is a bit unsettling.  Drew, Kenze and the kids are up in Northlandia helping to take care of the arrangements and attend the services and are staying at the Cabin in the Woods.  Thanks Wombie's for getting the place ready for their arrival.

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I was at Five guys having a burger outside and this rolls up.  The guy takes the steering wheel off and then does a kind of grunt, pull and lift to get out of it.  

Me:  I'd be glad to keep that warmed up while your inside.
He:  No thanks, it'll be OK.

When he comes out:

He:  Was it OK while I was gone.
Me:  It was just fine, now its cooled off.   Should have let me run it around the block for you.  It's pretty nice.  
He:  Thanks.  It's for sale.
Me:  Everything's for sale.  
He. And you see how easy it is to get in and out.  (As he does a reverse grunt, pull and lift.)

By the way, after he'd gone a guy came out of the place saw my Met's shirt and laughingly said, "They're not playing tonight."  His girlfriend came up and whispered to me that the Met's are her favorite team.  

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Neighbors Keith and Nancy brought over this mac and cheese.  Apparently it is Keith's signature dish and it was very good.  Ham and onions - he is a cook at Bascoms Chops House, an upper crust steak house down the road.       

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Norah lost her second front tooth.

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Attempting to find a place I can go have a beer when the call arises, I checked out the closest one called Average Joe's.  It was OK and will do nicely I guess, but all Joe was concerned with was that there is no sporting activity on Monday afternoons.  Personally, I prefer good conversations over staring at a sporting event, but we all have to have something to hang our hat on.  I thought how I would hang my hat and I'm sure it would fail.  See that auditorium seating?  Throw in Casablanca or Key Largo or  any number of a thousand movies that would be fun to watch and have a beer or Bloody Mary.  I even have a name:  Cine Bar.  "Here's looking at you, kid."

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I don't get paid enough.

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