It Happens...

An interesting tale from yesterday afternoon...

As I walked toward the bus stop at Marshall and Crouse, I had what those in the business call, "A Senior Moment." For about three or four seconds I completely spaced on whether it was Tuesday or Wednesday. It happens.

A young woman approached. She had long blonde hair, probably a sorority girl, and most likely believes that her "special-ness" is gospel. I immediately apologized for stopping her, then asked if it was indeed Tuesday or Wednesday. The look on her face expressed contempt and disgust while trying to maintain some weird air of toughness. 

She then took out her phone and pretended to be searching for the day when she actually was taking my picture a few times. She finally shared that it was Wednesday, I thanked her and was on my way. I could feel her eyes upon me long after we parted.

Just as I reached the bus stop, she passed me on the right with an expression as if she were whistling past the grave yard. I thought nothing of it at the time. She continued across the street and into the smoothie shop. About ten minutes later, a short brunette exited the smoothie shop and walked closely past me on the right. She had an inquisitive smile while staring directly into my eyes. I smiled and then her expression changed to a nice smile.

My takeaways:

1. It's both hard and annoying being the boogie man

2. If you think that all black men are the boogie man, it's because you've made that up!

3. Imagine spending 80 grand to send your child off to university that stupid, misguided, and probably racist?

4. I thought that this new generation was about moving forward?

A Touch Call..

 A tough call...

Two very steep hills converge to my street. There are only 2 houses in my block. The house next door is for sale and empty. At the edge of this double+ lot is a poled street lamp directly on the other side of the street. The light is dim, so the street is very dark at night.

I was awakened at a quarter to twelve last night to what sounded like banging. I got up to investigate and could barely see a man striking the pole. He'd stop for a few seconds, I imagine to catch his breath, and began again. This continued for about 30 minutes. Even though, I could barely see, I watched the best that I could.

He returned at a quarter after two in the morning and continued for roughly ten minutes. He walked down the middle of this street past this house and disappeared down the hill. He was less than average height and weight, with light blue jeans and a black hoodie. The weird thing is that I heard metal against metal, but the pole is wooden. I find it even more odd that he walked up the hill to do this.

I did not call the police.

This morning I went out and took photos of the pole. This was obviously someone in a midst of a mental health crisis. I don't regret calling the police. The pole sits on green space and had he ventured to my lawn, I would have called. As well, a darkened street, a man with some sort of sharp weapon, you can guess the rest...

Kill Them With Kindness

In the grocery store there was a late-30s white man with his son who was less than 2 years old, the boy was sitting in the front basket part of the cart dad was pushing. Not to be unfair but dad looked like a poster boy for a Trump supporting, -ist, bigot; he was pasty, chubby and sneeringly angry.

I was searching for a steak for mother and was out of my element having never eaten a steak in my adult life. The man was looking as well and I seemed to be constantly in his way or, something.

A jovial elderly black gentleman walked up and immediately noticed the giggling boy. It was as if they were old friends. The older gent told the boy how handsome he was and the boy squealed and reached for the man to pick him up. The dad turned purple. If he were a cartoon he would have exploded. The older gent told the boy that he had to go, the boy smiled and waved. The dad looked faint as the man walked away.

Not to miss a great opportunity, I waited until the man with the kid pushed his cart a bit further. I walked up to him and told him that I saw him at the steak case and asked if I could ask a question? I went on to ask if I had purchased a "good" steak and what would he recommend? He was a bit stunned. His eyes said, "Damn, another one. How am I going to hate you people if you're so nice?" He recovered an offered his recommendation.

Kill them with kindness.

Vintage Blazer

Vintage is one of those overused words these days. I always say that, "It's not vintage without a story." 

I found the blazer in the pic a year ago for $1.00 at a local thrift store. It was and remains in amazingly pristine condition. It is actually like new. It was a half size big when I purchased it, but I've pushup-ed my way into a perfect fit.

The interesting story here is that the blazer was originally sold by Wells and Coverly here in Syracuse. Wells and Coverly was a high end haberdashery that operated from 1890-1970. This blazer is at least 52 years old given that fact. 

It was a different time. Clothing was made to last more than a lifetime. These days we are very lucky to find clothing that lasts a couple seasons before falling apart or looking shabby.

The Wells and Coverly building still stands in the center  of Salina Street in downtown Syracuse. Today there are three small shops on the main floor of that building. I believe that the upper floors were turned into ballroom event spaces a few years ago.

Go get you some vintage!

All Before Lunch...

How's your day going? Great.
Mine? Well...

This morning, I walked two blocks down my great hill and realized that I had forgotten my phone. I went back to the house. I finally found the phone on the floor. The on/off button on the case had broken off. I've no idea when this happened. No matter, I just removed the case, tossed the cell into my bag, and was again on my way to the bus stop.

Of course, I had missed my regular bus, but I only needed to wait 20 minutes or so for another.

At the bus stop there was a low hanging branch swaying in the breeze.  I thought nothing of it until the leaves brushed against the back of my arm. That's when I freaked out. Someone had apparently gobbed on the leaves of that branch, and the mess transferred to the back of my arm. I was wearing short sleeves. I used my pocket handkerchief (every gentleman carries one 😉), to clean. As a card carrying germaphobe, my only option was to return to the house and shower. "Mama, I scrubbed my skin until it bled."

I dressed and tried again. Instead, I stood at the next corner.

I made it to the bus hub without incident. I transferred to the next bus. About five blocks from my stop there was a very loud noise. At a new dorm construction site, the driver of a 16 wheeler flat bed (used for carrying construction materials,) did not notice the Honda Accord on his blind side. The Accord was totaled, its driver trapped inside but fine.

The flat bed driver jumped out of his vehicle, walked over and said a few words to the Accord driver, then freaked out about 5x as bad as I had earlier. He shouted, "I ain't done nothin" wrong! He paced in circles seemingly pleading his case to himself and the world. His neon shirted coworkers gathered around to survey the damage. No one comforted the trapped driver. Then, the ranting driver opened the passenger door of the Accord and sat inside for about 30 seconds. I'm going to go ahead and assume that he was asked to leave. 

My bus driver, went to check on the Accord's driver. The flat bed driver started shouting at the bus driver. He was trying to make the accident her fault ignoring the fact that the accident crossed the bus' path as the bus was stopped at the traffic light. The angry man took pictures of the bus and driver. She told the man that he could take as many pictures of her as he liked, but she didn't get why?

My bus continued on our route, after the driver called her supervisor. 

My stop.

I walked a block over from my stop to get an iced tea from the grocery store. I stopped in the men's room near the exit. As I stood at the urinal doing my business, a loud man exited the stall. He didn't stop to wash his hands. He instead interrupted his cell conversation to compliment me on my pants, and asked where I got them? I tried to ignore him. He asked again. "Dude, I kinda have my hands full right now," I sarcastically told him. His laugh was scary loud. He complimented me again and left.

I exited the store noticing the beautiful sunshine and warmth. Perfect weather t'was.

4 blocks towards campus, an undergrad guy in a brand new Jeep which apparently did not have either working signal lights or a horn almost flattened me. The driver smiled and said, "Watch where you're going, dude."

All
Before
Lunchtime. 

The Break-up

A mid-40s couple were standing behind me at the bus stop at the hub. They were both about 5'6" tall. She was attractive and nicely appointed, and he was wearing a new white hoodie and tan pants.They were breaking up, again? She carefully outlined every twisted thing he had done. He'd thrown bottles at her front door because she wouldn't let him in. He loved the bottle more than she. He'd stolen and lied again and again. He was often angry and unreasonable.

He softly begged her forgiveness and she wouldn't have it. He spoke so softly that I couldn't hear 95% of what he was saying. She could hear him. "What we might have had is done, completely done." She sounded as if she had viewed many an old movie. I also figured that she was now stage present like an understudy who had patiently waited her turn. She even wore a scarf that she adjusted over her shoulder even though it didn't need it. He had presented her with a gift in a brown paper grocery. She took it and immediately gave it back. She told him to give it to his roommate. What was it, a steak or something? Again, she offered reasons why they were through. With each denial she moved closer to me. I could smell her perfume and feel her breath on my neck. I inched a little forward, as did she. I was going to be standing in the bus space soon. He offered the bag again. She took it and held it. I glanced back and she had move over to the right behind me. I pretended that I was alone standing there. I could feel both sets of eyes upon me. She returned the bag to him again. I could feel his sadness. She moved closer to me. "Gotdamnit,.My name is Les and I ain't in this mess," I thought! I inched forward and looked over at the big hanging clock... The bus was late! Five minutes later the bus arrived. Two passengers got off and the driver beckoned me on. The woman trailed so closely behind me as we boarded the bus that I almost tripped. She immediately saw a former co-worker sitting in the first seat. They greeted. He was warm and friendly, not at all creepy like her begging beau. The former co-worker looked to start a conversation with the woman, his eyes sparkled. The woman stood at the rear side exit behind me. Her soon to be ex stood next to her. The bearded man smiled at her as his eyes gazed the begging beau. Then, the man's face was saddened as he looked down at his phone. He looked dejected. Perhaps, his name was Les as well? They made me uncomfortable standing behind me. The woman every so often said "No." I still could not hear him. What if he's some nut case? I looked about for another seat. but didn't want to be obvious. Instead, I rearranged my groceries in my bag in that it was pouring out. Finally, about a mile and a quarter from downtown she pulled the buzzer. I watched them walk away in the rain, she hurried and he tried to keep up still holding the brown bag as if it were of most importance, delicate. I sighed. She's going to take him back.

NO thanks, I'm good...

 

Earlier, I went food shopping at Wegmans. There's a bench like the one in the picture above at the edge of the Wegmans store and the gym next door. I decided I need to sit down, in fact my back was begging me.  Unfortunately, there was a woman seated in the middle of the bench smoking a cigarette. The best that I could tell she was most likely in her late 30's. She wore one of those nylon night bonnets, a black parka, and she had a tattered small rolling suitcase. She also had a black tote bag sitting on top of the luggage. I assumed that the woman was homeless.

She was friendly. She said "hello,"and tried to make small talk. She said that she was going to get a shower and find someplace nice to eat. I'm not really a restaurant person so, I had no suggestions for her. She thought that Cracker Barrel might make a good choice. She said that she had heard that they had good food. I agreed not knowing if she was correct or not.

A woman of maybe 50 walked up to the seated woman. Propped against the wall, I glanced over while eating an unexpectedly nice Keto Wise™ crispy caramel snack. The woman was wearing a pink Wegmans polo shirt and name tag. She asked the seated woman, "Are you the same woman that was out here this morning," (It was now a quarter to two)? She added that she wanted to give her the food in the picture above because she thought that she might be hungry. "Oh, no thanks, I'm good. I can buy my own food. I got a job." The store woman added, "They give it to us every morning and I just thought that you might like it. It doesn't cost anything,". The woman seated repeated that she was okay and could buy her own food. The Wegmans' employee seemed very uncomfortable, she didn't know what to say. She awkwardly apologized to the woman a couple times, and then decided to just leave the food there because "Someone might come by who wants it, who is hungry." The employee seemed embarrassed as she turned and quickly walked back to the store. I imagine it was the first time anyone had turned down her kind gesture?

After the employee was out of sight, the woman turned to me and asked if I would have taken the food. "You just don't know about people these days. Do you think it was safe,' she asked? I told her that she should have accepted the food, put it in her bag for later. It was hard to imagine that it would not be safe coming from an employee of the store who had just come out to help. She seemed a little surprised by my answer and seemed to be reconsidering. "I'll just leave it here for somebody else like she said," she offered. I told her that was a good idea. She added that she had a job and couldn't wait to get back there on Tuesday.  

In a very sad way holidays are a great inconvenience to the homeless who have a daily routine of survival. I imagine this woman worked full time as many homeless people do, and in addition to the money, the workplace provided shelter from the elements, safety, and relief from the boredom of being on the streets.

"Well, it's time for my shower and to go get a good dinner," she shared. I wished her luck and a great dinner. She smiled broadly and then stopped in front of the gym whose door was ajar. I could hear her cheerfully ask the desk attendant if she could use the shower. He told her "Yes.'

She thanked him.