Sun-Daze....

’S a quiet, durn near sombre day here on the street where I live…

Crestline Avenue in Olde Fair Oakes is basically two short blocks ‘cept one of them ain’t got no homes at all ’n is pretty much just an alleyway…’n I ought’a know alleyways having spent a number of my formative years in Beattyville, Ky where all the streets were alleyways, cinder ’n gravel they were, tucked betwixt the C&O railroad tracks ’n the mighty Ohio River…

We lived in two houses in Beattyville tho’ not at the same time of course which might’a made for an interesting story if we had BUT we didn’t…

We lived on the southernmost street in our little corner of the world, next to the railroad track ’n across from Big John Stephenson…in our 2nd house…

There wuz a driveway (alley) separating us from the first house we lived in which wuz a brick home, pretty much uninsulated ’n hard to heat in the wintertime…mostly, I remember it being cold….well, that ’n the big plum tree in the front yard…

The Craycrafts moved in there after us…Barbara Craycraft wuz a little bit older’n me ’n a cheerleader…I remember she ’n other girls ‘ud practice their cheers in the yard…purple ’n gold, their outfits were, short skirts ’n sweaters…I don’t recall all of the cheerleades from my daze at SP school but I suspect I’ll never forget Barbara ’n Yvonne ’n Betty Jo…

Anyway, on our side of the street, there wuz our house ’n the Craycraft ’s ’n the Keith’s…across the alley from the Keiths wuz Delbert ’n Iva Fultz ’n next door to them wuz where my Aunt Billie ’n Uncle Fred lived, ’n for the life of me, I can’t remember who lived across the alley from them ‘cept the house wuz kind’a hidden behind a tall hedge…

That wuz just one side of one street in that little village where ever’body knew ever’body else…now, I live on a short street where I’m on a wave ’n smile acquaintance with most of my neighbors (save one that I make it a practice to ignore, but that’s another story) even tho’ I don’t know all their names…

“It don’t matter at all where you lived before, California’s a brand new game.”  The Gatlin Bros

SCOFFLAWS IN VILLAGE PARK

At the risk of being called a curmudgeon, (Curmudgeon~noun~a bad-tempered or surly person)…Me ’n the ould Dogger ’n Willy wuz walking thru the park this A.M. as is our wont when we happened to meet some bearded ’n scraggly young men, each with a large dog (fortunately fairly amiable retriever types) off-leash…after asking, politely I tho’t, for them to control their animals ’n being ignored, I raised my voice a tad ’n told them to control their dogs…after being ignored again, I took my camera out, photographed them ’n demanded that they control their dogs or my next act would be to call Animal Control…at which point they called their dogs to them allowing me ’n da boyz to pass…I pretended to ignore their sniggering remarks about it always being the small dogs that were aggressive ’n didn’t bother to ask them why it always seems to take a very special kind of stupid to believe that the law didn’t apply to them…..

Of course, in t’days climate when Obama ’n his posse demonstrate the same kind of attitude toward our country’s laws, ie, State Dept, DOJ, IRS, et al…y’just gotta figger that it’s the trickle down effect in action…

“Lazybones, sleepin’ in the sun, how you ‘spect t’get your days work done…”

Snuck up on me ag’in…t’morra morning is trash pickup ’n it’s green waste already which meant that I hadda get some go on…I have two green cans plus two from my next door neighbor AND two from the empty house acros’t the street…

I started filling the cans last week, tho’t I’d take my time, fill a can ever’ other day or so ’n wudn’t get caught bustin’ my buns at the last minnit…ah well, procrastination is the name of the game ’n I had t’get out t’day ’n fill two cans ’n I worked up a sweat doin’ it….

At my age, it don’t take a lot of toil for me to work up a sweat, ‘specially on these warm August daze…think it has sumthin t’do with age…as a body grows older, the definition of toil seems to take on new meaning…for example, I live on top of a small hill….back in eastern Kentucky where I grew up, it wudn’t even be considered a hill at all but times change…my buddy Vic lives on the side of a Kentucky hill…his driveway has a couple two or three switchbacks ’n he ain’t even at the top…

Anyhow, I got six full cans of green stuff lined up at the curb (‘cept we don’t really have curbs on our little street~nor sidewalks or street lights) ready for the big green machine to come by ’n pick ‘em up…the county sends out two huge trucks on pickup day…one for green ’n one for reg’lar old garbage…Sacramento county, you gotta pay for garbage pickup whether you use the service or not…empty houses get billed ’n if the mortgage holder don’t pay the garbage bill, the county hangs a lien on ‘em…when we bought our first home in California, there was a private company that picked up the garbage…they had a big truck manned with a driver ’n two helpers…they’d come into your backyard, empty your garbage cans ’n never leave a mess…’n they did it for sumthin’ like $2.50 a month…costs a bit more theze daze…thanks, of course, to our progressive Democratic government…

We didn’t have garbage pickup back in Beattyville when I wuz a boy…I can’t seem to recall just what we did with our garbage…I recall, in the fall, we raked up all the leaves ’n burned ‘em…ever’body did…wudn’t really a throwaway society back then but I know there must have been sum things that constituted garbage but it just wudn’t important enuff to stand out in a boys life back in the day….

Ah well, Beattyville is durn near gone now…like eventide in Brigadoon, slowly disappearing into the mists of time...it’ud make a nice location for a riverside park ’n I expect the old Methodist Church could be headed for landmark status but maybe not…time’ll tell, I guess…

“The funny thing about time is it moves in one direction while memory moves in another.”

Durn near the dog days.....

“Sumtimes we can’t see what’s right in front of us becuz it’s behind us ’n we’re looking in a mirror wond’ring who the hell is that looking back at us…” 

Justin Other Smith

Workin’ in the front yard, cleaning under a live oak that ain’t been raked ’n cleared for about 6 years or thereabouts…neighbor lady walking her dog comes by, “Lookin’ good” she says…..Well, it ain’t really looking good…it’s looking a little better but considering the wear ’n tear of age, it’s looking okay….

My friends ’n I are all of an age ’n when we happen to meet ’n greet, we generally tell each other that we’re ‘lookin’ good!’…..The unspoken caveat is, of course, that we’re looking good considering the age ’n mileage….like the old ranchero parked in my driveway….lots of people tell me, ‘That’s a pretty good looking old car….”  What they’re really saying is that it’ud be a good looking old car if someone would just fix it up ’n take care of it….

You can restore old cars to the point where they look like new BUT, they ain’t new ’n ain’t never gonna be new again…life is funny that way…you only get t’be new once….’n it don’t matter whether you’re a person or a car or anything else….

“and don’t throw the past away

you might need it some other rainy day

Dreams c’n come true again

When everything old is new again,

When everything old is new again,

I might fall in love with you again.”

Peter Allen

Sunday evening dining out.....

“Money burns a hole in my pocket…”  Dean Martin

Sunday eve ’n we tho’t to go pickup some teriyaki to go just to have sumthin’  a little different, don’cha know?…

But when we got there, the cupboard was bare ‘cuz we’d forgot that they take Sunday off…so we dropped in to Coco’s which we like to do about once ever’ other year or so…not that Coco’s is not a nice little coffee shop with quite decent pie which we almost never ever order ‘cuz it is, it’s just that we hardly ever go there…until this evening…

Anyhow, in my wand’ring roundabout way, I discovered t’nite that cauliflower ain’t really any worse than brocolli…

Over the course of my lifetime, I pretty much avoided any acquaintance atall with foods like cauliflower ’n brocolli…I wuz aware of their existence, of course, but basically I treated them with the indifference I tho’t they deserved…

As you might imagine (or not), I took a bit of heat from fam’ly ’n friends for my avoidance of what I considered t’be ‘rabbit food’ but with my advancing years, I somehow developed a tolerance for what I consider t’be the more esoteric veggies…y’know, sumthin’ other than onions (which, for some reason my body will no longer tolerate)…

At any rate, this evening we found ourselves dining impromptu at Coco’s where our waitress, Simone, wuz relatively new at her job (’n being watched surreptitiously by a manager)…and being tired of my usual fare ’n in the mood for what we white southeners consider t’be ‘soul’ food, ordered m’self some chickenfried steak which came with mash potatoes ’n pepper gravy ’n what wuz described as ‘seasonal veggies’ that turned out t’be brocolli ’n cauliflower…

Now, I recognized the brocolli right off, not a doubt in my mind what it wuz but the white stuff that wuz mixed in with it, I had to ask Millyrose…’n she informed me with that condescending air that wives often have, that it wuz cauliflower ’n that they were steamed ’n looked fresh ’n were really healthy….

As I grow older, I find myself lacking in the character that I use’ta have ’n, after shoving the pieces around a few times, bit into the cauliflower ’n found out that it wudn’t really much worse than the brocolli, so I ate pretty much most of what wuz on the plate…’course, I kind’a mixed it in with the pepper gravy ’n mash potatos ’n remarked to Millyrose that a bit of melted butter wud have improved the taste somewhat…

Anyhow, that’s my story for this evening ’n I’m sticking with it….

“A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval.”  Mark Twain

A dogs life....

Too darn hot!

The Mobile Groomers came t’day ’n sheared Rusty ’n Willy…Willy don’t seem to mind them all that much but Rusty seems to get traumatized ever’ time…’course, after it’s all over ’n he’s back inside looking sternly at me ’n I get him a treat ’n let him up on the sofa, he gets over it pretty quick….

Dogs are funny that way…they got a heckuva mem’ry ’n they don’t like change…Rusty is old(er) 'n on the suspicious side 'n knows when the groomers get here…I don’t quite know how he duz it but he knows…

Willy, on the other hand, is just a happy-go-lucky mutt ’n I believe he’d take up with anyone that’d offer him a treat...I'm thinkin' that's 'cuz he's more of a teenager…

I’m no judge but Rusty stresses over lots of things while Willy don’t seem to stress about much at all….

Take a walk~Yeah!  

Chase a chicken~Yeah! 

Have a treat~Yeah, Yeah!…

Nuthin’ t’do~take a nap!...  

When we’re young, we run, Lordy, we run after ever'thing...sex, drugs, rock ’n roll ’n the almighty dollar, 'specially that almighty dollar 'cuz we think it'll buy us ever'thing we'd ever want...

We lust after fortune ’n fame ’n what we think is ‘the good life’…..one gold rush after another…like a bunch of durn lemmings, we’ll run over any cliff, take on any challenge, forfeit our lives for a shot at the golden ring, all the time knowing in our heart that all the gold rings in the world are made out of brass….well, we ‘know’ it but we run more on hope than anything else…

And even when we get the stuffing knocked out of us 'n grow weary 'n cynical, we still hope...maybe only a little bit but it's enuff to keep durn near every lottery in the country solvent several times over...

And life being what it is, some people have a good ride ’n some people don’t…some people fall out of the damn rollercoaster on the very first turn…some people stay for the whole darn ride but vomit all the way…(Hey, life c’n be scary)….

Some people get to ride all the whole blessed way, feet up 'n grinnin'...fame, fortune, the gods smile on ‘em all the daze of their life…or seem to…we don’t really know ‘cuz we ain’t one ‘a those people…most of us ain’t…

But those of us who manage to hang on long enuff to know that the ride is coming to an end can only hope to emulate that happy go lucky dog that knows when all else fails, you just take a nap ’n fahgeddaboutit….

When life on the run has another meaning.....

“Have you ever been bitten by a dead bee?”  Eddie (To Have ’n Have Not)

So yest’iday was warmish ’n just a bit on the humid side ‘cuz of all the rain comin’ out of the south….’course, all the rain wuz really up on the high sierra ’n entailed a number of thunderstorms with the requisite lightening strikes ’n brought absolutely no water to northern California which no matter what the durn politicians tell ever’body ain’t got enuff water for the ‘hull darn state of California…I’m thinkin’ that there ain’t enuff water in the ‘hull darn southwest to satisfy southern California which has prob’ly the largest ’n greediest bunch of slackers in the western world…

Anyhow, that’s just me venting a bit ’n got nuthin’ much to do with what transpired yest’iday….what I did wuz go out early in the morn, fire up the leaf blower (electric), get out my trusty rake ’n hard plastic shovel ’n fill five big ol garbage cans, it being green pickup day t’day….worked up a sweat at it too….generally speaking, it’s so arid around here that it’s difficult to work up a sweat unless you’re young ’n ackshully trying which I ain’t that young ’n I definitely ain’t tried to work up a sweat for more’n several years now…anyhow I took a lunch break ’n then afterward finished up around 2 or 3 o’clock, took a cold shower ’n drank a couple dos Equis ’n patted m’self on the back for a job almost well done….

But the self congratulatory stuff wuz a little bit premature…we (Millyrose ’n me ’n Dave ’n Kris) went to dinner at Carmelita’s where I passed on another dos Equis ’n had a tall glass of ice water instead, picked at my chicken tamale ’n beans ’n rice ’n came home where I decided to spend the evening with alternate bouts of diarrhea ’n vomiting…

So, I did’t really get bitten by a dead bee, what I did wuz stay too long at the party, not drink enuff water, compound that error by pouring a couple beers into m’self ’n otherwise ruining what had started out t’be a relatively nice evening with fam’ly, opting instead for a relationship with that old standby, the porcelain bowl….

Kermit the frog says, “Life might be fun when you’re having flies but don’t forget the consequences of otherwise…..”  (I kind’a adlibbed on part of that quote)