It's a Greek thing!

Early evening as another Decoration Day heads on over the horizon. I spent a fair sized portion of today out to Potter's Park enjoying an AA picnic. That is to say I mostly frittered away this day stuffing my face and standing around yakking with other members, which is not a bad way to spend an afternoon. I left the picnic planning on a nice, long ride through small town America. Temperatures made it to ninety the past couple of days and this is the sort of weather that makes owning a motorcycle worthwhile. The boys and I spent the weekend together and consequently, I did not get a lot of riding done. However, I instead took a ride out to Walmart, and bought some hand-made flowers. I had been out to Deepdale on Sunday evening after I took the boys back to their mom, and I found myself admiring many grave sites and wondering if I should not do a bit more in the way of 'decorating' mom and dad's plot. The local veterans group had made sure a U. S. flag was planted over dad's grave; however, I decided some flowers stuck in the little urn on their marker would be nice. So, I stopped, chose some that actually looked pretty decent for being fake, and made a second trip to Deepdale. Much to my surprise, I found that between yesterday and today someone had come along and placed flowers into the urn, and real, live growing ones at that. Saying I am surprised is sort of an understatement. Up 'til now I did not believe that other than the local VFW placing and removing flags that anyone other than myself had done anything in the way of tending that spot. Now I find at least one other person has stopped by, although I could not name who to save my life.

And, as always, I admired the spot the Thodis family has reserved for themselves. I recall hearing mom mention to the salesman that she did not care for tombstones when he was at the house selling her this spot, consequently the folks have a set of plaques mounted on a piece of marble set flush into the ground. This is difficult to spot when you are cruising through the place, and so I chose the monument of the Thodis family to help me get my bearings. The name is easy to remember and they have a nice black marble bench type marker that is easy to find. At least, I think these things are intended to be benches...I have never actually seen anybody sitting on one. These folks also have this really neat candle holder in front of their marker, and I can often tell when Mrs. Thodis has been by for a visit, as there will be a fresh candle burning at the grave. The holder protects the candle from the elements very well, and judging from the size of those candles I will bet they burn at least a week. I spoke to her one day and asked her if there was a significance to the candle left burning at the grave site, and she sort of chuckled and said "Oh, it's a Greek thing" as if that statement would explain any unusual activity that may occur in a graveyard. Now, every time I see a candle burning at their site I chuckle to myself and say "Oh, it's a Greek thing" and I wonder how Mrs. Thodis is doing. I figure as long as I only see her date of birth on that marker that she must be doing fairly well.

Kickin' & screamin' into the 21st century...

I happened upon the scene of an accident this afternoon as I was cruising from one side of Lansing to the other on my motorcycle, and felt an immediate bond with one of the people involved. Almost as immediately, that bond was severed as neatly and as completely as it is possible to do. A young woman was laying in the middle of Capitol Avenue, at the intersection of Capitol and Saginaw, next to her bicycle. I have been there and done that, personally. In fact, this lady would have to tangle with an automobile at least two more times in order to catch up to me, were we to make it a contest. Really, I would rather not. There was a car parked nearby, and a Lansing cop had his cruiser half way into the right hand lane on Saginaw, moving traffic over a lane while he stood next to the young woman laying in the road and made sure she was not run over.

I am sure at this point you are wondering to yourself "Ah, but David, what about that severed bond? What happened to the sense kinship you felt with the young woman?" By golly, that would be a valid question, too. As I made my way past the scene, I was quite happy to observe several things. First, no copious amounts of blood were pooled around the bicycle rider, which I think boded well as to her physical being. Second, she was not flopped on the pavement screaming out her agony to the world, which is more than reasonable when your 30 pound mode of transportation tangles with a 3500 pound vehicle. Also, she was fully conscious, which was also a very good thing. No limbs twisted at awkward angles, no big, ugly, missing patches of skin. In fact, not much in the way of distress at all.

"Uhh...David? That lost sense of kinship?" I was coming to that, in my own sweet time. You see, it was what this young woman WAS doing as she lay on her back at a busy intersection during afternoon rush hour, while a policeman guided traffic around the scene. As she lay in the street, on the warm pavement, what this lady was doing was chatting on her cell phone. And yes, I am aware of what wonderful devices these are in times of emergency. This young woman could very well have been giving an ambulance crew directions to the scene. Or, she may have been telling her mother that she was going to be late for supper. Or, she could even have been phoning her lawyer, and making an appointment for the following morning. What a great time to 'Call Lee Free'. God knows, I have fantasized of tapping into that third choice more than once. However, from the attitude of this young woman, the way she was behaving and the look on her face as she lay there and talked, I find it all too easy to envision a conversation with a friend that began with the words "You'll never guess what just happened to ME!" Really, you could have slipped a ruffled pillow under her head and tossed a comforter over her and I do not believe she would have looked any different than had she been all tucked away in bed for the night. I do not want to make myself sound too ancient, but darn it, when my friends and I got banged up our bicycles we at least had the decency to lay there and cry for a few minutes before we began discussing the wreck.

Cheeseburgers by lamplight

A weekend with my sons, and half the other kids in the neighborhood. My boys spent a nice sized portion of the day in the company of a girl about Barry's age named Briana. Briana is a pretty nice kid, polite and fun to talk to. She also had this idea that having supper with her pals was a very big deal, so while I was getting stuff ready I made sure to toss a couple of burgers on the grill for her, and she sat down and ate with me and the boys. While at the table she was checking out this very old oil lamp that used to belong to my mom. Evidently it was the first one she had seen, so I dug out a lighter and fired that sucker up, and we sat at the table in mid afternoon, eating our cheese burgers by lamplight. I think the word is 'quaint'.

There's something happening here...

Today was one of those days when it is exciting to live within walking distance of a state capitol. Saturday afternoon a neo-Nazi group held a rally on the capitol steps and the entire downtown area turned into an armed camp. I believe every Lansing cop was working today; in addition, we had police on loan from other cities, county cops, state cops, and National Guard troops, all patrolling the capitol grounds and much of the area around the capitol. Many of these people were outfitted with bullet-proof vests, helmets, batons, and some genuinely nasty looking firearms. Trying to drive through Lansing was an exercise in patience, as several streets in the area were blocked off, and you had an excellent chance of ending up stuck at an intersection at any time, either waiting on a group of people protesting the rally to parade by, or perhaps for a string of  emergency vehicles to come screaming through on their way to some urgent destination. I also counted at least two helicopters circling the area most of the afternoon. Anyone attending the rally (which I did not) had to pass through a metal detector and submit to a personal search. I have a handful of bearings in the pocket of my leather, and I am certain there would have been questions concerning those.

After the all the excitement had died down and things were a bit quieter, a group of students from MSU held a "Wash Away The Hate" demonstration and scrubbed down the steps of the capitol, which I thought was a great counterpoint to the Nazi group. For a little while today, with all the people marching around "singing songs and carrying signs", it almost felt as if we were living in 1968, rather than 2006. Amid all the hoo-rah, it is comforting to know that one of our nation's basic freedoms, the freedom of speech, is still very much a part of the American way of life. Even for a bunch of knuckleheads.

The weekend past

Another Easter gone by.

Chirp chirp!

I have to admit, I am impressed. The kid across the street has taught his car how to chirp.  At first I thought this meant that perhaps a Pontiac could catch the bird flu, but I have come to realize what it really means is that he has installed a car alarm in his vehicle, and that I have one more reason to leap for my telephone and punch out the number of the Lansing police with trembling fingers when I hear yet another alarm going off in the neighborhood. What a great thing these alarms are...kind of like a 21st century version of the neighbor's barking dog. I must have heard these things wailing away at least one thousand times since they were invented, and I have yet to witness anyone attemping to steal the vehicle making all the noise. If nothing else, these car alarms give me yet another reason to work for a move from the city to someplace out of town.

I wanna gripe!

Okey dokey! First and foremost, I have been made aware that people actually READ these thoughts of mine. This means I must put some care into insuring that whatever I publish onto the world wide web is not going to land my fanny in jail. Or, perhaps, cause a friend to decide they would rather not BE a friend. Hmmm...I suppose this means anything the statute of limitations has yet to run out on is off limits. Golly, the things I have to decide!

 

Now for the gripe. I was almost run over today at the MLK/Willow intersection by some color blind idiot in a pick up truck. That light had been green in my direction for a three count when this knothead came cruising on through to make a left turn. Of course, the fact that I was on my motorcycle meant he would have had the right-of-way after a 30 count, if that is what he wanted to do. None the less, it seems as if more and more people are regarding a red light as kind of a suggestion, rather than a directive to halt. Not just people in family vehicles, either. We are talking so-called professional drivers here, too.

 

Let me see, then there was the neighborhood boy that stopped by yesterday while I was working on my car and initiated a conversation with me by using the phrase "I heard a rumor..." - oh, boy! Talk about the wrong set of words to use. I explained to this young lad that life was far too short to for me to waste my time on gossip, and that if all he had to do to amuse himself was go around spreading rumors, that he needed to find someone else to pester other than me. I am not sure if I made much of an impression on this kid. In fact, I will bet I became the basis of some fresh gossip at that moment. Ah, well, life continues. Perhaps one of these days I will move into the desert and not have to listen to neighborhood chatter. Also, not be able to walk four blocks for a gallon of milk, as I need to do before the evening progresses any further.