THE YOUNG LOOK WITH AMUSED TOLERANCE UPON THE OBSOLETE

Blog number Two Hundred !                                                 28 July 2008

I remember the first time I was called, "Dear," by a lady - a stranger.  I knew then that I had arrived in the land of old people.  I love the condescendations sometimes afforded me.  I was checking out at a Safeway counter one after noon, and I had with me a staff I was carving.  The checkout lady said, "Did someone carve that for you, Honey?  Hah!  Sweet!

The first time I got on a bus and didn't show my senior card and was admitted, was a milestone.

I have wanted to be an old man as far back as I can remember.  I think it was because of my affection for my grandfather and his cronies at the pool hall.  They always seemed to enjoy things more than young people did.  They were always laughing and talking - joking with each other.

Seniors get a lot of bennies.  We get a lot of allowances for misbehaviors.  The older we get, the more things we can get away with.

I just last night saw a trailer for a new movie starring Brad Pitt wher he begins life as an old man and gets younger.  I can just imagine what that might be like.  First people treat you real good and a the years go by they start yelling at you, watching you suspiciously, and accusing you arbitrarily.

WHO'S OR WHOM'S IN CHARGE HERE ANYHOW?

Blog number  199                                                                                                  27 July 2008

Let me be clear here.  I don't have anything to write about.  I did this once before.  I called it an experiment, but I didn't realize until someone asked me what the experiment was, that I never explained it.  I'll do that now with this one.  The experiment is to see if I could sit down with nothing to write, and write.  So far, so good.  Yes?

Doing this reminded me of a time when I had an assignment for a drama class to produce a short scene without using words.  I always like to get my chores out of the way as soon as possible to avoid that hassle of worrying over them.  So as soon as I got home, I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee, 'cause I like to drink coffee while writing anything.

I took the cup of coffee into the living room, sat down in my reading chair, setting the coffee on the end table by my chair and reached into the pocket of my Oshkoshs for my pad and pencil.  Neither was there.  I had left them in the kitchen.  Damn! 

I got up, went into the kitchen where I found my pad and pencil lying where I had left them, made it back to the chair, sat down and started to create when I realized I had my scene.  I would just repeat the last few minutes.  Brilliant!  That wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be.  Piece of pie, actually.

There is an additional part to this story. 

When I did my scene in class, I got the "cup of coffee," took it to the chair, sat down, realized I hadn't brought my "pad and pencil," got up, went to the "kitchen," got them, came back and sat in the chair, put the "cup" down on the "table," sat back, end of scene.

During the critique, the teacher said, "You forgot about the table, didn't you?"  When she said that, I realized that I hadn't, in my imagination, allowed for a table to be there, so I hesitated when I went to put my "cup of coffee" down. The table wasn't there!  She saw that and immediately knew that I hadn't allowed for the table.  I thought that was so neat - that my mind could do something like that.  It was an imaginary table to me, but to my mind, that table was really not there.

I DIDN'T DO IT

Blog number  198                                                 25 July 2008

One of my sons informed me this morning that my latest Blog entry is missing.  I looked, and sure enough.  It was the one about the TV program, "The Office."  I just want to say, I didn't do it.  AOL did it.  They also erased my wife's last Blog entry.  They probably have our house bugged and heard us cussing out AOL for the stupidity with which they run their business and they didn't like it and I don't care and they are not good people and somebody should take a shovel and dig up any garden anyone there has and that would show them and I would be glad and I would do it again and that would show them again and finally they would learn not to be such bad people and have other people mad at them and that would show them and finally they would get tired of being showed and would go back to AOL 3.1 and leave it alone.

WHAT THE HELL?

Blog number  196                                                 22 July 2008

I go to bed at 11:00 PM, take a nap (evidently), get back up at 0100 (I:00 AM civilian time) and the sprinkler system is going.  That in itself is not a problem but I thought I set the sprinkler to go off at 8:00 PM (2000 sensible way of expressing time), so I go out and check the time it's supposed to be on the sprinkler controller and it's all right.  I check the time the sprinkler is supposed to go off and it's set for 2000.  NOW what!

This is the same kind of trouble I had when I had to replace the controller just a few days ago.  What kind of karma is being handed me anyhow?

I'll call the guy tomorrow or someday, but in the meantime, I'll complain to my blog.  Good blog.

PARANOID? HOW WOULD I KNOW?

Blog number   195                                                    22 July 2008

So I get my coffee, my paper, my apple fritter, and I go to my favorite reading chair by the window.  Two young Oriental girls are sitting on the love seat, looking at a lap top.  I don't make eye contact with them.  They have one chair of four, a purse is sitting on another chair and a bag on another.  "My" chair is free.  I think, from what I see, that they are trying to "fence off" the area so they won't be overheard or bothered.  This has happened before, and by two young Oriental girls, so I figure it is the same girls, doing the same thing.  That first time, Teresa moved the chairs and trash can they had arranged to fence off the area, and just sat down.  I followed.  They left.

I'm reading my paper, consciously ignoring them, when two young oriental boys sit down in the two "held" chairs.  Off and on during the time these four were talking - some kind of business with the laptop, I get the feeling I am getting glances from them.

Just before they leave, I think I hear, from one of the boys sitting across from me, something like, "I'm glad you could join us."  Now up until then, they have been speaking a foreign language - I think they were Chinese.  I kind of dismissed it because that would be kind of weird except, it was the only time I thought I understood what was said, it was said by one of the boys, and it was said just before they left.  I was also pretty sure that when he said that, that I got several glances from the both boys and one of the girls.  Purportedly to see how I would take it?

Sound like paranoia?  Of course, you weren't there to experience it, so I am the only expert in this particular area, but on the other hand, it concerns me and my ego, so could I be unbiased? Yes, definitely.  Why?  Because I am exceedingly humble.

You can't argue with that.

Well, you can - but it wouldn't do you any good.

WHO'S AN ANGEL?

Blog number 194                                                           15 July 2008
I few days ago I'm standing in line at Starbucks and I hear this voice behind me sounding like the tinkling of little bells.  I look behind me and I see a little girl - between three and four years old standing by her daddy, holding his hand.  I say, "Hi!  How are you?"

She disappears behind her Daddy's leg and occasionally I peek around to see if she is peeking, but she never does. That's a bit unusual in my experience with babies.  I get my coffee and pastry and I sit down in my favorite chair and I read.  When I am ready to go, I notice the little girl and her Daddy sitting at a table, so I go down and I say to her, "I gotta go now.  Bye!"

She brightens up like she just remembered it's Christmas morning, and says, "Bye!"

The next day I go in and the two are already sitting at a table and I go up to her and I say, "Bye!"

She brightens - not as much as the first time, but I take what I can get.  She says, "Bye."

From then on I catch glimpses of her and it seems to me that she is looking at me puzzled.  "He says bye, but he's still here.  What is this, some kind of a cruel joke?" 

She seems intelligent enough that I believe she has figured out what I did.  So this morning they come in and I don't approach her, but I keep an eye on her.

Her daddy fixes something at the counter where they keep the creams, prior to them leaving.  I notice she stays with her Daddy's leg between me and her.  When they walk out, she keeps her daddy still between me and her.  I follow them with my eyes, and as they reach the door, I kind of crane my neck to see around her dad, and just then she also cranes back, sees me, and when I say, "Bye," she gives me the sweetest smile!

Oh, joy!

BEEN THERE. DONE THAT. WISH I HADN'T.

Blog number 193                                                        08 July 2008
This entry is kind of an experiment.  I haven't made an entry in a while and fans are starting to get testy.  I used to read Jon Carroll every day in the SF Chronicle and I don't know how the guy does it.  Or how any daily columnist does it. 

One runs out of things to say.  Maybe they have a more exciting life than I do.  My days are filled with TV watchings, reading, and napping.  Not much to write about there.

My bird disappeared.  I dunno where.  Been gone a week or so.

My sprinkler system crashed.  Got a new one yesterday.  I went out and watched the guy put it in and I wish I didn't have to do that.  He was one of those guys I usually hide from.  A talker, ya know.  I learned more about things I never wanted to know anything about than I can use.

He told me that somebody sold the buyer of the system I had, a bill of goods.  It had places for twelve stations, and the one he put in had spaces for four stations.  I use three. 

After he told me that, I commented - or started to anyhow, that the house next to me had one of those and all the houses in this development had them.  I didn't get any of that out because as soon as I started to tell him that, he interrupted and said, "Did you hear what I said?"  Well, yeah.  But what's that got to do with my life, ya know? 

Isn't that a strange things for anyone to do - what he did?  He must have thought he said something really, really important and he wanted to make sure I understood.

I never did say much that whole "conversation" we "had."

We're going to Phoenix today, maybe take Kiki (my daughter-in-law) to the library.  I wish I could talk about Kiki more, but that has been forbidden to me.  She's so funny.  It's like I know the location of a silver mine, but it happens to be on posted land so I can't mine it.

I think my lady friend is up.  I hear her moving about.  She was up real late last night, sleeping to the sound of her TV.

We're putting Zipper in the bathroom while we go to Phoenix.  Way too hot in the garage.

The weather has been way cooler lately.  It was only a hundred degrees yesterday.