For a year and a half now I've had a somewhat different morning ritual. I set the alarm for 3:00 am, maybe do a 10 minute snooze and then walk 3 1/2-4 miles every morning. After that I do some computer work (blog, fantasy, reading latest news) and then await my client when I open the doors to Papa's Daycare. When that is done I have supper, watch a little TV and then to bed at 7:30 - 8:00 pm where I read for a bit before falling asleep.
Some seem surprised I go to bed that early. hey, I have the same schedule everyone else does, I just move it up three hours. I have also discovered I miss nothing going to bed so early. I have no shows I watch regularly. Mornings are the best part of a day so I simply elongate mine. More morning to enjoy. Coffee at 5:00 and that makes it just about perfect. Alone, dark, and medium brew with a bit of Southern Pecan creamer. I'm getting a little Johnny Rocket just thinking about it.
For no particular reason i thought you might enjoy joining me on a morning walk. No? Okay, I'll do it the next best way. Follow along.
Once I leave Sinkhole Estate, or Death Valley as I like to call it, there is a dark road without any street lights. To the right is the apartment complex that was home to a murder last week and up ahead is Bolesta road. It can be a little creepy along here because at the apartment complex there is also a pond next tot eh road. Sounds come from there that are otherworldly. During the day it is unassuming, but because night is so delicious, it emanates forbidding. One time I started waking on the sidewalk but something jumped and ran from the edge of the pond out toward me (it seemed) so now I do the first leg of my walk on the road itself. There's never any traffic so I'm not too worried about becoming road kill. Besides with my speed I can pretty much outrun a lot of things, except whatever that was that jumped from the pond.
After I reach the streetlights in the first picture I hang a right and this whole stretch is the apartment complex. Have you noticed not a lot of streetlighting? practically nothing. This is the High Point section of town and, well, someone has to live on the other side of the tracks. Otherwise how could Billy Joe Royal write music like Down in the Boondocks?
Once I'm past the apartments I follow the curve along one of my favorite parts of the walk. To the left is a tech complex and tot he right is an open field. Imagine in Clearwater an empty field. There's even a pond. Sadly, a sign with a phone number says you can buy it and develop it and it will be at some point. Too bad, it is, kind of, my only taste of home. Wide open field - clear view of the night sky. Some one, I'm sure will come along, some New York development company with a wad of cash and start bulldozing for more housing units, but until then, its my spot.
Just before that first streetlight is an entry to Datsko Park. Maybe the worst park in Florida. But again, this is High Point. This is where I bring Alfred and she plays in the volleyball sand. That absolute farthest streetlight, barely visible is where I turn left and start heading into civilization.
I took a quick picture that didn't come out as I had hoped, but stopping and taking out a camera and snapping pictures at the homeless isn't something that invites cheers. You can't see them but they are just underneath the streetlight. They came out of the bushes behind them.
A few days ago I was walking along and approach by a young guy, maybe 26 (age is tough for the homeless, he could have been younger) and was clutching or helping to hold up a lady well in her 40's or 50's. Mother? Lover? Friend? He asked if I had the time, and I replied 3:40.
Once this bus kiosk was shelter to a couple guys with bikes. Those benches have metal arms to them so it is tough to lay across the whole bench so they sit upright to sleep much like the emergency landing position - head between your legs. This was the only time I have seen members of the Homeless Army use the bus stop benches - there are better accommodations amidst the bushes.
A few meters further (I have no idea what a meter is, because I'm a dumb American who decided to forgo the standard universal metric measurement. A friend said it is very easy, it is in 10's. I'm going to have to ask him more about that.) I hang a left and down that road a bit is Sinkhole Estates.
Some seem surprised I go to bed that early. hey, I have the same schedule everyone else does, I just move it up three hours. I have also discovered I miss nothing going to bed so early. I have no shows I watch regularly. Mornings are the best part of a day so I simply elongate mine. More morning to enjoy. Coffee at 5:00 and that makes it just about perfect. Alone, dark, and medium brew with a bit of Southern Pecan creamer. I'm getting a little Johnny Rocket just thinking about it.
For no particular reason i thought you might enjoy joining me on a morning walk. No? Okay, I'll do it the next best way. Follow along.
Once I leave Sinkhole Estate, or Death Valley as I like to call it, there is a dark road without any street lights. To the right is the apartment complex that was home to a murder last week and up ahead is Bolesta road. It can be a little creepy along here because at the apartment complex there is also a pond next tot eh road. Sounds come from there that are otherworldly. During the day it is unassuming, but because night is so delicious, it emanates forbidding. One time I started waking on the sidewalk but something jumped and ran from the edge of the pond out toward me (it seemed) so now I do the first leg of my walk on the road itself. There's never any traffic so I'm not too worried about becoming road kill. Besides with my speed I can pretty much outrun a lot of things, except whatever that was that jumped from the pond.
After I reach the streetlights in the first picture I hang a right and this whole stretch is the apartment complex. Have you noticed not a lot of streetlighting? practically nothing. This is the High Point section of town and, well, someone has to live on the other side of the tracks. Otherwise how could Billy Joe Royal write music like Down in the Boondocks?
Once I'm past the apartments I follow the curve along one of my favorite parts of the walk. To the left is a tech complex and tot he right is an open field. Imagine in Clearwater an empty field. There's even a pond. Sadly, a sign with a phone number says you can buy it and develop it and it will be at some point. Too bad, it is, kind of, my only taste of home. Wide open field - clear view of the night sky. Some one, I'm sure will come along, some New York development company with a wad of cash and start bulldozing for more housing units, but until then, its my spot.
Just before that first streetlight is an entry to Datsko Park. Maybe the worst park in Florida. But again, this is High Point. This is where I bring Alfred and she plays in the volleyball sand. That absolute farthest streetlight, barely visible is where I turn left and start heading into civilization.
At the end of that road is this 7-11. It and the gas station across the
street are the only things open this time of night so there is often some people walking around. Quite often it is the Army of the Homeless.
On this night I hear a couple voices from across the street. There is a wooded area that separates the roadway from a residential area. I look over and see two guys come out of the words. One is talking loudly and animated. The other is silent. 
A few days ago I was walking along and approach by a young guy, maybe 26 (age is tough for the homeless, he could have been younger) and was clutching or helping to hold up a lady well in her 40's or 50's. Mother? Lover? Friend? He asked if I had the time, and I replied 3:40.
Once this bus kiosk was shelter to a couple guys with bikes. Those benches have metal arms to them so it is tough to lay across the whole bench so they sit upright to sleep much like the emergency landing position - head between your legs. This was the only time I have seen members of the Homeless Army use the bus stop benches - there are better accommodations amidst the bushes.
A few meters further (I have no idea what a meter is, because I'm a dumb American who decided to forgo the standard universal metric measurement. A friend said it is very easy, it is in 10's. I'm going to have to ask him more about that.) I hang a left and down that road a bit is Sinkhole Estates.
If you think this ended kind of abruptly, well, it did. I'm tired. Walking/jogging 3 1/2 miles isn't always easy. I'm ready to get home, feed Whizbang and check out what the Mets did last night. Oh, I almost forgot. On the way home I pass a place with an Italian flag hanging out front. Like one of Pavlov's dogs, my mouth starts watering. They don't all have them but many pizza boxes have the flag on it. Reflex.
So that's how I start the day. (By the way, that "so" is correct since it joins two paragraphs.) The walk is a nice blend of quiet, spooky otherworldly darkness and urban night, with the Army awake and conducting their nocturnal maneuvers. It is the best time of my day. I make sure I get it out of the way before you guys even get up.
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