There was a time when due to circumstances, moved away from the parent’s home to find shelter somewhere else. Never thought about a place to lay my head until I got kicked out of the house in college. Time to grow up.

Some parents figured out a roommate for a two-room 3^rd floor flat with a kitchenet and a full bathroom (no shower). Living away from home would have been more difficult other than I was just blocks down the street in the same city.

We each complied with our parent’s wishes and dragged up the stairs a bed, a desk, some clothing stuffed in an old WWII wooden footlocker used in camp and a stereo record/radio combine player. The rest of my ‘stuff’ was kept at my parents’ house.

As roommates we only saw each other waking up. We both were going to the same college, but different majors and classes. He also had a intown girlfriend, so he spent most of his downtime at her house.

I had a job to earn ½ the rent, so when I wasn’t in class, I was at work. I also learned how to ‘hang out’ in dorm rooms, other’s apartments and local diners. I was living on my own and was having fun.

I found renting was not like having a room at home. If the power went out, someone else had to fix it and you just had to wait. The landlord, I found out, had a key to every apartment and could/would just enter at any time and make themselves at home. This was their home and I was just renting.

The lease would run out or the rent increased to requiring another search and moving all our ‘stuff’ to another room in another building. You find out who your buddies are when you have to haul a sofa down three flights of steps and then up another three flights of steps.

The other aspect of renting were the neighbors. They were changing constantly and their lives could be heard through the thin walls.

After renting three apartments, my father talked me into purchasing a home and get away from the bohemian living. I finally had my own space but if the furnace died, I had to get it fixed.

Home ownership is part of the American Dream, but there is something to be said about ‘renting’. If you like traveling or changing jobs or exploring distant romances, where you lay your head at night could be anywhere. It is also less expensive, but without a return on investment.

My thought was a comment I heard about ‘renting’ clothing. Most of us ‘rent’ a tuxedo for a wedding or a special dinner, then return it after a one-time-wear. A wedding dress is usually a one-time-wear that hangs in the closet for a daughter to wear as a hand-me-down or is refitted from a generation earlier. With fashion styles and trends constantly changing, manufacturers want to have people fill their closets with purchases that will last until the next red carpet runway photos show up with celebrities modeling the duds you must have to be current.

The older threads might be worn by your kids as retro or with a bit of humble pie, taken to the thrift store trying to sell for the price of the tax. Other ‘out of style’ items could be donated for those who don’t care about fashion but warmth.

When you look around your house (or apartment) at the ‘stuff’ piled on tables and stacked on shelves and cluttered in drawers, why do you need them? Books are a good example. We purchase the latest ‘must read’ then place it on a shelf in a library. You can justify having that book gather dust by thinking a future re-read might be a reference or could show your intellectual knowledge of being well-read. Someone else may enjoy reading that book but can’t afford it. Also, the public library has vast stacks of volumes for your interest and they are FREE. You are actually ‘renting’ the book and return it by a certain date for another to peruse.

Renting a lawnmower or a camper or skis or a boat seems more cost efficient than purchasing and having to find a space to store it during seasons when not in use. A taxi might be a better transportation than having a depreciating mass of metal parked in your garage full of flammable fuel?

Ownership makes us feel special. We can pride ourselves on our purchases of a fine watch or fancy wheels or a new toilet (there are something you don’t want to rent). We don’t show guest our underwear drawer.

In the end, we may score our excessive assets as our ‘estate wealth’ but then it all moves on to another person or charity or foundation or landfill. Only museums will display items that were created for some historical figure to establish it’s value at auction.

Sorry, you cannot borrow my car because I don’t own one.

2nd Responders

 

A crisis happens. Call 9-1-1. The air is filled with sirens as marked cars and trucks with flashing lights race to the scene. Uniformed professionals, trained and equipped, will arrive and do the necessary duties to solve the confuffle. If there are injuries, they will be temporarily treated then carted off to a local medical center. These are the 1^st Responders.

When the yellow tape is taken down and the bodies removed and the hoses rolled up, what is left? A shell of a house? A blood spot on the walkway? Crumpled metal and broken glass on the street?

Who are you going to call?

The 2^nd Responders. Those who will clean the streets to make clear for other vehicles to arrive. Those who are the ones to clean up the toxic rubble in hazmat suits and remove it to another site. Those who arrive to assess the damage and cut a check for food and shelter while the future is being muddled over. City or county folks in day glo yellow best work to repair or reconstruct the infrastructure while bucket trucks restring the power supply.

Then come the construction crew to attempt to bring back what the bank still wants mortgage payments on. Chain saws and leaf blowers attempt to renew the landscape. These are the 3^rd responders.

The 1^st responders of the EMS will deliver the sick, wounded, ill or otherwise discombobulated to the 2^nd responders of doctors and nurses who wrap, blot, cut and sew with shots to alleviate the discomfort while checking insurance coverage. Other 2^nd responders will identify the remains of casualties, cataloging the numbers to notify the next of kin and the news media for disposal. The 3^rd responders will provide the emotional final resting spot with the stretch limo, a few words and a marker.

Delivery from 2025

 

Polyticks

I hate to start the wrap-up of the past year with this, but I’m a news junkie and I start everyday going to several news sites (not FOX) to see what is going on in the world plus listening to the constant stream from NPR and all I hear about is our CEO of America.

After the failed insurrection from the first term, he has had four years of festering his defeat and planning his retribution. He dumped his family and other handlers who could restrain him, to gather a posse of unqualified and ill-informed whacko’s who feed his bias with fictional stories while pampering his ego. His sequel to the presidential power, with the Supreme Court supporting his ‘immunity’ for actions made in office, he comes out swinging. On day one, his majesty immediately starts signing ‘Executive Orders’ declaring the old president is over and now we have a new royalty.

Congress seems befuddled by the chaos and bowing to the wishes and whims of the renewed president. They conform legislation for a ‘Big Bad Beautiful Budget Bill’ that is vague enough to be interpreted in various ways by the courts and misunderstood by the public. There was so much confusion, the government had to shutdown for a month.

ICE (The United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement) was created to detain and deport “criminals, murders, troublemakers, mentally deficient, rapist, terrorist, feeble minded, drug dealers, money launderers, agitators, escaped prisoners, gun runners, human traffickers and the worst-of-the-worst on the face of the earth” without due process. To assist in cutting crime, our commander-in-chief deployed the National Guard, border patrol and even sent in the marines to various cities with unknown results.

DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency) was created and appointed to the richest man on earth (never elected) to close agencies and fire staff with a promise of saving $$$. The newly found best buddy got bored with the job and went back to driverless EVs and space. Doge folded.

The ‘people’s house’ was architecturally and interior redesigned to the ‘Royal Palace’ with paving over the Rose Garden, adding flagpoles, renovating the Lincoln bathroom in marble, gilding the oval office and destroying the East Wing to build a ballroom.

There was a celebration of 250 years of a US Military with troops dressed in fatigues shuffling down the street followed by squeaky WWII tanks topped with waving soldiers to the few bystanders watching this dull parade, acquiring Greenland, making Canada the 51^st state, Gulf of America, Dept. of War, no Dept. of Education, no virus, blow up narco-terrorist speed boats, pirate oil tankers, no trans, ban books, no fat or bearded military, tariffs, sanctions, what happened to the wall, golf, polls and rallies, Epstein files, MAGA, healthcare subsidies, food prices, work without paycheck, more Executive Orders, Panama Canal, defund NPR, home prices, interest, reporters, Kennedy Center, Dozing Don, no climate change, Teflon Don, Blame Sleepy Joe, NEW Chicago Pope, Rootin’ Tootin’ Putin, Israel vs. Trump vs. Gaza, Trump vs. Ukraine vs. Russia, no penny, Presidents’ Walk of Fame, gerrymandering, Aid and Food Banks cut, blockade another country, new Trump class battleships, halting wind energy and reviewing Voter Registration requirements.

Health

This year the ole bones are catching up with the number of laps around the sun. At first, I noticed my left-hand shaking. Picking up the coffee cup and everything went sloshing about. My right hand wasn’t as bad, but it had a quiver. Parkinson’s? Genetic? My brother has it. Just result of heavy drinking? Stress? Either way, it is my writing hand so my signature on checks is starting to look like a doctor. After self-diagnosis, limited drinking and the tremors went away. Another self-diagnosis, go back to drinking and the twitching went away. The bank will cash my scribble.

Then, I started having back pains. Getting out of bed, I started to shuffle walk and was too tight to pick anything up (good excuse). After self-diagnosis, drinking and sitting and scrolling the screens did not further the harm though the cause was unknown.

My internal doctor realized, there was plenty of peeing, but not much pooping. Self-diagnosis connect the bad back with an intestinal backup so a few chocolate squares, and a blow-out and I was back to being regular without pain. I can still belch like a sailor.

Looking at your hands show your age. Age can’t be hidden. I noticed, for the first time, bruising. At first the thought was liver spots, but they went away. Seems old age causes thin skin and a bump can look awful. Ask the president.

My nails grow fast but are now splitting. I notice picking the guitar, the get caught on the strings. I apply a calcium nail strengthen, but still has to trim the claws every week.

Along with the thin skin and the tired old bones, I lost a tooth. I didn’t actually lose the tooth; it broke off when I was eating a hamburger. Seems my teeth, that I brush everyday but have not have a professional peer into my mouth since 1971, are aging. Luckily, there wasn’t an exposed nerve or blood, but I can whistle through the gap. Maybe I’ll have to wander down the street to visit a DDS but at this age, do I want to replace the choppers? No, I did not put the tooth under my pillow so the Tooth Fairy could bring me a nickel.

Probably the most disturbing health issue happened on my daily rides to the Tummy Temple. The normal 5-mile trip became a chore during the summer. Even starting early in the morning, I’d come home soaked in sweat and huffing and a puffing like never before. On a least one occasion, I unmounted and walked home, stopping now and again in the shade to catch my breath. Some days I would get home so exhausted I’d have to lay down. Whether it is the lungs or the heat or the ticker, little task become overwhelmingly difficult. Down shifting and riding slower hadn’t solved the problem. Perhaps it is time to check out the e-bikes for that added push needed? Perhaps the food delivery service will be necessary to continue to eat?

According to my ‘To-Do’ list, it is time for new eye glasses. The frames are getting loose, there is some sort of fog in the middle and I’m holding the glasses up when trying to read through bi-focal. Most of the times now, I take the glasses off to type on the screen. Might try the new optometrist at the mall and see how that view goes?

With all the internal discomfort and the external stretching and itching, the body clock for resting is on some sort of wave length I’m not accustomed to. A 12-pack used to put me to sleep, but now the body just toss and turn under the loose covers. Hourly trips down the hall to empty out then try and try again, the mind won’t shut off. Checking the clock every hour, it seems around 3AM is when the relaxation starts to take place. REM sleep occurs between 5AM and 10AM, but not always. Daytime naps don’t work. Getting old is not for the weak.

Will see what 2026 has to offer.

Weather

After the cold, spring came with the sound of birds, sunshine and enough rain to get everything green. Perfect weather for rocking on the porch at night with a nap or two.

Then it got HOT! From comfortable to sitting in front of a fan sweating. Walking around in my yard in my skivvies wasn’t any cooler than laying on a beach towel inside and walking up dripping. Triple digits day and night.

Once it was time to put away the fans and the heater came on, it got COLD! Temperatures dropped quickly and another layer was required to run outside, feed the critters, then dive back under the covers.

Yard

Still feeling too awkward to whack and hack the yard, branches fall out in the spring breeze and had to be dragged in the back and cut to put in the trash. Vines are abundant crawling over the porch and the back of the house.

Whether it was the construction on the street or something from the neighbors, the daily buffet seemed to be overrun by little pink tails. The regular Critters won’t dine when they are around and I can’t seem to chase them away, so bought some Rat Poison on Amazon and put out wherever I saw them scatter to under the tall grass. That didn’t seem to work, so I got another ‘more powerful’ batch and haven’t seen them since. Unfortunately, this stuff must smell good and the container started getting chewed into. I put the container where I thought no one could get to it, but it was too late. Seems, Rocky had a taste and died. Gave him a regal open-air burial for the hawks and crows to dispose of.

On the plus side, Al came back.

I had some VHS videos of ‘the making of Puppywoods’ transferred to DVD some time ago, but they are ‘copy protected’. I finally took them into my computer shop and have them converted to movies I could load on my YouTube channel. It worked, so I bought another laptop.

Clothing

Without the need to put on my fancy pants to attend a dance or go to church or attend a formal soiree, I donated all my ‘dress’ clothing. I have no shirts with collars. The summer requires t-shirts and shorts and the winter require layers of sweatshirts and fleece pants. Same ole every day and I seem to have more than enough in my size till the end of time. When the skivvies get too holey; Amazon delivers.

House

The year started out with a bit of snow and there seemed to be a problem at the cities’ water treatment plant and the tap went dry. No water. Luckily, I could use the snow for the toilet and I had enough bottled (and canned) water in storage to get through a dry week.

One of the house chores is to vacuum. I purchased a small vacuum, a cordless vacuum, a hand-held vacuum and even a cordless scrubber to move the piles of dust bunnies into the trash. I step over the vacuum plugged into the hallway hoping to not trip over it and some future time will be the motivation to press the ‘suck-up-the-dirt’ button.

Eating for one still get a pile of dirty dishes and washing them to only get dirty again, I bought paper plates and bowls. Even found some bio-degradable utensils to use.

Still the sink always appears full and my house mouse keeps stealing my sponges to chew on.

GCCP (Grove Crest Colonial Place Civic Association) has resurfaced. When I moved in, there was a tight group of patrols for the Neighborhood Watch, letters of events and crimes in the area. Then the interest faded away. Now the GCCP is back on email discussing the rezoning of property codes in the area. Small patches that were doctor offices or retirement homes are being demolished for a construction of a 3-story red brick square apartment or condo building. Maybe this goes along with the removal of old cape cods (like my own) to build gigantic mac-mansions priced for millions and raising all us other folk’s personal property assessment and taxes? Maybe they are the ones who convinced the city to install a ‘speed table’ next to the alley? Maybe they are the ones who had the city dig up holes to check the gas/water lines then repave the street?

Transportation

The year seemed to be rolling along when I suddenly got a flat tire. Stuff happens. A leisurely walk to the Pedal Power station and in a few minutes got a replacement and a small charge. Keeping both pumped up and rolled on through the rest of the year.

The first of next year I’ll take my pony in to get a new saddle and check out the e-bikes? I’ve done some online research and the prices range from $400 to $2k+. I need to get on one and give it a test drive. Size of tires? Disc brakes? Lights? Kickstand? Rack? Weight? Recharge?

Conversation/ Entertainment

Lunch recordings – reunions. Had a few lunches with ole school mates and work mates. Nothing reveling except memories of strangers, but I took my recorder and could listen to the conversation later. That was reveling.

Music. Every day I try to listen to some music. I seek out new sounds but this year, nothing caught my ear. Everything sounded like a format and nothing surprised me, so I had to go back decades and review my life soundtrack.

Social Media

                  News (Truth or Dare) is coming from every source imaginable. Opinions, bias, fake videos get conglomerated with established reliable reporting. You decide what you want to believe.

                  Reels (or TikTok video clips) appear everywhere. Short clips that can be created or recording an actual event. Seems this is the way we communicate now.

                  Movies/television are not on my calendar, but notice every day there are recommendations of the best to watch. Like music, they all appear the same so I don’t waste my time. I’m tired of sequels.

                  Security was a surprise this year. Changing passwords were required. Verifying not a robot before logging onto an account became prevalent. Number codes sent to telephone or email accounts confirmed you were you. Trying to remember all the passwords. Hasn’t gotten to facial recognition… yet.

                  Ads must be working because they are all over the place. They are every third post scrolling. There are the annoying pop-ups and the constant ‘best off’ products from whatever sites shopped before. Easy to see what the computer remembers about your purchases.

                  Ai, ChatGPT is all the rage. The talk of the town is the computer that can talk back to you. Whatever the computer can find on the web that you have posted or linked to or browsed and forms a profile of your interest. You see what you want to see and you hear what you want to hear.

                  Influencers used to be called advertising sales people. Fashion, cooking, candle makers and other entrepreneurs’ businesses have brief videos promoting their products and services. See more information in the comments below.

Blog

                  Nimrodstudios (25,781 readers, 120 articles)

                           Names became a fascination this year. First, the old pictures of school mates had names like David, Jeff, Bill, Mary, Sally, Judy and now the names I hear on the radio are Rafael Nam, Camila Domonoske, Rund Abdelfatah, Ramtin Arablouei, Yuki Noguchi. It does show the diversity the current government wants to avoid. Second, I thought if we did not reference writings, movies, politics, etc. linked to names?

                           The Musical was written and recorded in various methods years ago and this was just an explanation of what I was thinking at the time.

                           Subscribe seems to be how creative folks want you to permanently link and support their site.

            Just Another Life (811,420 readers, 2,489 articles)

                           Delivery seems to be the wave of the future for this ole coot.

                           Vote – detention – corruption – chaos is all post that I couldn’t resist trying not to be offensive but stating the mysterious governmental agenda.

                           Pot, I found, could be mailed across the country. I tried it and it worked. I’m on someone’s mailing list now and they have my credit card information. It wasn’t what I remembered but it was wacky weed.

                           Health seemed to be the theme for this year so I am still trying to self-diagnosis and convince myself I can make another lap around the sun.

                           Brotherhood of the White beards – reunions of all the geezers and so far, survivors gathering for a drink, a bite to eat and some laughs. While we still can.

                           Secrets, at this age, are more important and fascinating to hear than what aches and pains there are or what the grandchildren are doing. Let loose those hidden jewels that make you who you are and can be put in your obituary.

                           Cleaning, next to Godliness, are constantly on my mind but never seems to get done. That may become my legacy?

                           State became a thought of what makes, what was first called colonies, states of the union, united under the stars and stripes but each with their own unique qualities, governments and borders. This current administration seems to be passing more responsibly for education, homelessness, energy, health and services back to the states to control; like voting.

                           Data centers – Ai – Algo Rhythm are the hot subjects. Giant buildings requiring a steady flow of electricity and water to quickly reply to your question. If looking for employment, should your application be reviewed and approved/deny by a computer? Algo Rhythm will review where you’ve been and keep plying your passions.

                           Sons of Jack & Marion was just a review of a quick lunch with some ole high school/college friends. Gifts were given but the conversation was not recorded. These reunions were also commented in repeat.

                           Food and eating have linked into health and what is my daily decision of mission. Now a new question arises.  Do I go out and forage for grub or do I have it delivered?

                           Superman was a quick thought I had to get out of my head and on paper (or screen). That is what this blog is all about. A journal of a single earthling.

Food

I’m not Hungry? I’ve tried all the staples and treats and nothing interest me anymore. Worse than that, many dishes don’t taste good. Even desserts don’t entice me.

Cooking is mostly rewarming something out of a can in the microwave. Now and again, a pot or pan may be heated up on the stove to quickly boil water for noodles or fry a ham steak, but then they have to be washed. Chicken seems to be dry and bland and beef seems to be revolting to my stomach. There just is no interest in the kitchen. 

Delivery seems to be the method of the future. Seems everything I’ve been peddling out for can be driven up in a box truck and placed on my deck. No muss. No fuss. And one bill to be paid at the end of the month. Or am I just getting lazy?

Budget

I didn’t buy any major expenses this year (except 2- laptops) and I keep track of where every penny (or now nickel) goes. I looked at my bank account balance every 1st and 15^th of the month and noticed I was getting near $40,000.00. I wondered why I could save, so I made $50k a goal. It is nice to know I have more greenbacks stuffed under the mattress for a rainy day. This doesn’t sound like a lot of you, but through the years and five different banks, I’ve had zero or less balances, so this is a major deal. With all the news chatter of the zillions of dollars floating around and the constant rises in home assessments and utilities and insurance, I’ll try and stay on top of my bills. If I cut out the alcohol, that would save me another $5k a year. Will see how this new delivery project goes?

Finally reached my credit card limit with the delivery guys. Amazon, Instacart, DoorDash have made it too eazy peazy. I could increase the limit, but this is a lesson. I’ll pay the $850 balance and wait until the check clears until I place another delivery order. Cutting back on some foods and limiting frivolous spending will make the monthly spreadsheet smaller with ONE bill for food at the end of the month.

New Year’s Resolutions

Two thousand and twenty-six. What will it bring? There will be more polytics than most of us cannot tolerate without posting some offensive meme. There will be more well done far fetched short videos of destruction, brutality, body shaming and silliness filling our screens like some bazaar movie opposed to reality.

I see on this first day of the two-thousand and twenty-six years of our Lord, the latest trend is to pay NO TAXES as a protest to the current government. With a $38+ trillion-dollar deficit, will the bank make more loans? Will our military occupy another country to sell the oil? If all the wars are over, who will buy our weapons?

Finishing off this ceremonial bottle of bubbly, will that be all the adult beverage for the month? Will sobriety motivate me to accomplish my chores?

Another year in Just Another Life.

Excuse Me

 

It’s TOO HOT! It’s TOO COLD!

I’m a procrastinator. I can always find a reason to put off till tomorrow what should be done today. I can step over a vacuum with more dust on it than the floor and walk pass a sink full of dirty dishes without remorse or regret. I can watch the vines grow over the porch and just ponder which tool I should try and discard them.

I did this in school. I remember having an exam the next day and spending the night on the phone instead of studying. If a paper was due, I’d write it quickly, with no research or review, minutes before it was to be handed in.

At the same time, I was always early for class or dinner or an event because I learned not to be late. Ask a shrink how those two reactions to time and responsibility work together?

Now I can use a whole series of excuses for not accomplishing my chores and scratching off my ‘To Do’ list.

·      My back hurts

·      I’m tired

·      Got to check the news first

·      It is too nice to be inside

·      Got to make something to eat

·      It’s too late

·      This program comes on now

·      Too much noise outside

·      I’ll take a nap first

·      I’m too old for that

Most of my ‘put off till tomorrow what should be done today’ are not difficult or even technically challenging. I’ve accomplished this task years before with fervor and successful results, but now?

All the tools are available within reach. If the task is too difficult, I have plenty of contacts who will perform the request for a price. Is there a fear of finishing all the chores and afraid of what is next? How much time will it take to sweep the floor and lay down a rug? Job well done, but then what?

Through life, we meet many challenges and at some point, have to face the piper and either accomplish the goal or fail. No matter how much time you put in preposition, there comes a time of reckoning.

I’m not on a cane or a walker or wheelchair (yet) so that is not an excuse. I’m not taking a fist full of pills to blur my cognizant rationality. I may just be lazy?

Coming up on a change in the calendar and next years New Year’s Resolutions. What will you declare for the future goals? Will you accomplish any of them, the way you did this year?

No Returns

Yesterday, we tore open the boxes to find a surprise and act like we loved it to make the gift giver believe they had made the right decision. If it is an ugly sweater, we pull it on and wear it all day, but don’t lose the box. If it is an appliance or tool or item not immediately used, shove it back under the tree. Be sure to keep the receipt in the box, not only show the giver’s wealth and appreciation toward the effort to please the receiver, but just in case there needs to be a returned.

Today, you stumble pass the leftover eggnog, picking up empty bottles of spirits for the recycle bin and starting the coffee in hopes that it will clear the fog. The sound of the rug rats, who have constant energy hyped up on sugar, run around playing with their new toys until some adult sits them down in front of a screen to hypnotize them on whatever they can scroll through. After the morning greetings of the visitors who are already packing up to leave, you shift through the loot under the tree and repackage items in self-appointed stacks for each individual while separating the wrapping paper from bows that maybe used again next year. Let the dogs out as you fill the super cans with overpriced gaudy paper to make the journey to the landfill.

I’ve never returned an item, either by delivery or purchased at a brick-and-mortar establishment, so I’m not sure how it works. If the ‘gift’ comes from a delivery service, does it get sent back and an account credited for the cost (even though someone else bought it)? If you physically go back to the retail establishment, do they exchange the item for another choice or pay you the purchase price?

I guess when a person is ‘laid off’ it is a ‘return’. The skills and value of this worker is no longer profitable, so the contract of employment becomes null and void.

I’ve also never worked retail so I can only imagine the pain-in-the-tush this process must be. Does the item go back on the self to be resold or appear tampered with and discarded? How does that register on the inventory? Plus, the emotional encounter with some pimpled faced hourly worker who at this point is the representative of your company and brand, trying to keep the customer satisfied for a possible return and another purchase.

Is it simpler to give a ‘gift card’ or an envelope of cash? It doesn’t show any affection for the gift, but who won’t spend cash? What would happen if the kids came running to the tree on Christmas morning and found a pile of dollars?

I’ve tried to think of my ‘best’ gift at Christmas and can’t. There were some outstanding gifts in my family at Christmas, but I don’t remember one that stood out with my name on the card. One year my mother got a fur coat. That was sort of over the top, but it hit-the-spot. One year, after all the boxes had been opened under the tree, my father brought the family outside and gave the keys to a car to my brother. That was pretty impressive. I think that year I got a doll (Yes, dad, I get the hint). My most memorable gift was probably a baritone ukulele. That started me down the trail of playing music.

I have, through the years, regifted items I thought someone else might appreciate more than me or I just couldn’t think of anything else. I’ve donated tons of books to new readers and got a tax write off benefit for my philanthropy. I’ve given to others appliances and items they might enjoy and use. I call it clutter at some point and have no deep personal attachment for it. Some items I’ve put next to the trash cans and they disappear by wandering scavengers. I’ve sold vinyl records for a penance of the cost to free up space due to change in musical taste. Once an item is gone, it’s history is only a memory.

Divorce is a ‘return’.

You have been attracted to a person (for whatever reason) and made a commitment to love, honor, obey or whatever the vows say. You paid your fee and signed you John Henry on a contract to be registered by the state and acknowledge to all under the eyes of God to be in an eternal partnership.

Well, we are human, and humans make mistakes. Sometimes things don’t work out (for various reasons established by acceptable laws of the land) and one (or both) file for a ‘return’.

Emotional events, like marriages and divorces, cannot be forgotten because they carry more luggage than that goofy sweater given by Auntie Ann as a holiday gift.

I guess the same is for children? If little Timmy or Sally misbehave or become obnoxious or you didn’t get the version you expected, there are No Returns. Children are not pets. They cannot be returned to the kennel and traded for another one.

So, on this cloudy, quiet day listening to the last of the guitar Christmas songs, doing a load of laundry and finding a treasure in my memories of a friend long gone, I write this. It is not meant to be maudlin, but a reflection on the season on consumption. The surprise apple pie gift to the fire station has been delivered to smiling faces. The neighbor’s champagne and doggie treats has been hung on her fence with handwritten messages since my printer decided it was taking off for Christmas (a New Year’s problem). Al, Petie, the Bun-Buns have an open buffet and will entertain me through the window as the furnace heats my toes and the lap blanket is a constant companion.

Tomorrow, I’ll plan another mission for the day. Will I venture out to the convenience store to reload my bullets and give the cute girl in the Eagles cap another $30 tip? Will I venture further to pay off the credit card bill so I can start ordering more delivery?

If I open my eyes in the morning and there is light, then I get another chance for life has no returns.

Tummy Temple Turmoil

 

‘Tis the season’ for the seasonal turmoil at the Tummy Temple. I love the panic before the holiday arrives. I enjoy watching the clueless expressions on their faces as they venture through the aisles looking for that special ingredient that you were sent to retrieve and the family gathering meal cannot be accomplished without it. I see more folks needing to check their phones when selecting between the organic or premium item. Price comparison goes out the window when the holidays arrive. People can complain about that later, but this is the day that Uncle Jack and the family are coming over to celebrate and the presentation of the meal is supposed to impress him. Does anyone order take-out pizza for Christmas? Probably a better idea for the rug rats who won’t eat the green beans sprinkled with fried French onions or touch the ambrosia. Are their enough snack foods on the list for all the movies, sports and just munching while emptying the bar? Is there enough toilet paper? What if someone gets sick? Is your medicine cabinet prepared for an emergency? Will you need to do laundry while visitors are here? Are there enough trash bags?

As I swing into the parking lot, I can see it is overcrowded and the mobile machines are circling hoping to find a vacant spot to slip into. My special lockup spot (the stop sign at the door) is vacant and I find my key while avoiding the rushing carts whizzing by. The panic seems full blown.

My plan was to get a couple of sub sandwich at the ‘which wich’ sandwich shop before joining in the mayhem of the Tummy Temple. Holding back from delivery until I get the credit card budget back, I figured I’d tool over and pay cash for the next couple of day’s lunch. They always seemed pleasant and the subs were tasty, but not today. They were closed. Gone. Locked up. I didn’t get the memo. There was a sign on the window that said this would be the future location for ‘Jersey Mike’s’ sub shop. Don’t understand the restaurant business for a sub shop to replace a sub shop, but I move on.

Many of the carts are gone, either clogging the aisles or in the parking lot waiting to be retrieved. I find a big basket that doesn’t have locked wheels and join the fray. I have a list (for a Christmas dinner for one) and have the time to wander and enjoy watching the confusion. There are couples discussing what size turkey will accommodate the starving masses waiting at home, there are family groups trying to find the ‘just right’ brand while the kids run about bored with the entire adventure, there are the ones who are in a rush and ones who are busy talking on their phones rather than pulling products off the shelves. People move down an aisle only to turn around and wander back bewildered by the signage of a food warehouse.

I love it. This is a pure example of our current culture. These are not the hunter and gathers, but the shoppers who have to put on a coat and climb into a pre-running car that is warming up the leather seats to weave in and out of traffic burning fossil fuel and polluting the air to struggle to park without a scrap then get overheated looking for dip for chips and settling for an unfamiliar brand due to what was available on the shelf. Now and again, I stop just to allow the traffic go by until someone ask, “Are you in line?” Excuse me, I don’t want to get in the way. In all this commotion I pity the poor cashiers who have to deal with all this frantic behavior. In two days, things will be back to normal and a brief conversation can be had with the few peeps I talk to, trying to make a joke and get a smile from an oppressing, yet essential job. When is an apron a uniform?

Overwhelming my cart with all the items on my list, I move into the Scan-And-Go area and find a spot and scan each item (or most of them) until the alcohol (which requires a verification from the attendant in a apron). Hillary comes by with her ‘magic card’ and plugs in a date when the VABC used to require the scanning of an official ID, but this is not my first rodeo. She seems stressed by the cacophony of the Tummy Temple congregation, so I don’t pause for a chuckle but part wishing all within earshot, “Happy Holiday” and free the spot for the next.

I notice the security gates at the sliding doors are now working. I’ve attended the Tummy Temple (with various names) for about 40 years. I’ve seen many managers come and go. I’ve seen the restricting of the placement of items as a ‘hide-and-seek’ game. I’ve seen the renovations and restructuring of layout and staff. I noticed the ones who are moving slow or just going through the motions and a few who had the ‘Charlie hustle’ mentality. I’ve witness (and participated) in the technology of lighting, frozen food doors and security.

Back in the day of Ukrop’s or A&P or Safeway or Layfette Market, people were expected to adhere to the responsibility of ‘pay as you go’. I’m not saying that I’ve come home with an item that was not on my recipe, but that is why Santa is bringing me coal for Christmas. I’ve seen staff selling drugs. I’ve seen members of the congregation walking out with purchases not paid for. I’ve seen security personnel searching the aisles for someone who has been caught on the plethora of cameras overhead watching every motion hoping someone is watching when I wave going by. On a few occasions there have been what appears to be authoritarian guards who may, like TSA, ask to check your paper bag for items that match your check-out recipe. Once there was a officer of the law standing at the door. Seems governor was inside giving a presentation. I was sure that my avocado was secure. I’ve even seen the local police hauling out someone in cuffs for unknown reason and pause before entering to whatever had happened. When I hear patrons start to fuss and notice the red vest rushing to calm the situation, I just go down a different direction. All of the ever-changing congregation are strangers and no one knows who is packing.

So, the new security gates are meant to solve the problem of patrons walking out with a cart full of sodas and frozen pizzas causing the prices to rise for the rest of us fine outstanding customers who will pay whatever the merchant post as a reasonable cost. Once, back in the 2020’s when the BLM movement was tearing down confederate statues and there was some looting and protest, there were actual armed guards standing in front of those gigantic windows that we were told to avoid during a hurricane. Don’t know if it is worth to purchase a six-pack in a fire fight?

With overflowing loaded packs and a constant parade of unusable driving methods, I decide to walk my pony cautiously out of the chaos to the path of content. Rather than add my weight to the recently pumped-up tires, I decide to just walk pulling my holiday haul. Stopping occasionally for traffic of baby strollers or dog walkers to pass, I enjoy the beautiful day of friendly faces opposed to the panic shoppers I’d just attended. I watched a couple talking to a dog and waited until they finished before continuing only to hear, “I thought you were supposed to ride them?” I stopped with a smile. He was a scraggly looking guy in a Redskins cap walking an alert and calm beagle on a rope leash. We had a brief talk while his pup sniffed my hand. Instead of the usual blah-blah of complaints and such, our conversation got into Christmas music and Handle’s ‘Messiah’ and chord structure that was fascinating. You just never know.

I bid adieu to the mystery person and was wiser for the encounter. A few more pauses and smiles and kind words of the season from those who also venture outdoors, perhaps because of my red hoodie and white beard and hoping that Santa will bring them treasures?

Once back in the woods I unload my haul for the next day’s victuals and feed my furry neighbors who seem appreciative. Let other families cause disruptive actions that will spoil the holiday season.

Now is the time to prepare a holiday bag for a neighbor with a few surprises. Tomorrow, station #18 will be delivered an apple pie by an unknown neighbor and the season will be over for me.

Might listen to some ‘Christmas’ music on the day… or not.