Today, when I walked in to see the counselor, I handed her this card. She’s accustomed to my sense of humor and laughs authentically when I catch her off-guard. I was incredibly lucky to randomly find her.
There’s a punchline to this. I told her that I came up with the perfect tagline for her as-of-yet written proposal for workgroup mental health discounts: Crazier By The Dozen.
“I’m not sure prospective clients would understand the humor.”
Today, I climbed a tree and sat in it, probably higher than I should have. While I was there, I attached a surprise to one of the branches. Below, people ambled by, unaware that a middle-aged man observed them from above, half-laughing at the absurdity of it. Since losing weight, I’ve climbed several trees. When I climbed down, I wrote a message on a pink index card and propped it against a brick sign. A man walked over, curious. “That’s nice,” he said, as he read the card. In a lemon moment of overconfidence, I hugged him, and he laughed. I briefly told him that I put such cards all over. I also pointed a few feet away, to a rock that had a previous day’s message written on it. He laughed again. “Interesting. I never thought of that.” As he waved and walked away, I said, “You won’t be billed for the hug.”
PS Yesterday, I took a pristine new piece of thick chalk and wandered around, writing messages on the pavement. Some were cryptic, some were specific. A pair of women noted that I was writing. I watched them walk in an arc to read my musings. For my last one, I wrote, “Who is the guy in the green jacket following you?” I walked quickly away and turned once I was out of their line of sight. As they reached the last chalk message, they both immediately turned to scan the path behind them. No green jacket-clad man in sight, of course. And then they laughed. I wonder what they made of it.
I’ve joked for years that if I ever need dentures or implants that I’m getting BLACK teeth. It’ll be awesome and perhaps scary. Now that I’m dabbling in the infamous rap genre and will have a suitable dark grill to highlight my talent, I’m considering using an artist/stage name I devised several years ago: Charcoal Grill. ..
PS I’ve pretty much got the 50+ rap market cornered here. .
The mural project on the (house) on Holcomb street is coming along well. I’m envious! It’s going to be spectacular.
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As I walked back through Turnbow park in Downtown Springdale, a young man wearing a nondescript uniform stood by an access panel on the perimeter of the walkway and flowers. He fiddled with the controls. When he turned, he said, “Tell’em to move.” He repeated it, but only I could hear it as I walked past. About thirty feet ahead, two more workers stood near the grassy section opposite the bike and coffee shop. I couldn’t tell what the box was on the ground near the closest worker, but I deduced that they were supposed to be working in concert with the man I was passing. There were people on benches and at the tables, scattered around, eating and drinking. On beautiful days like today, it’s an ideal spot, especially before summer comes to cook heads exposed to the sun. Two older ladies were approaching the other two workers. I wish I had my phone up, as the camera app was open. As the man behind me said, “Tell-em to move!” a little more loudly, the sprinkler system they’d been adjusting whooshed to life, giving the two older ladies a quick startle. I turned, shrugged, and laughed as I nodded to the man adjusting the control panel. “Good job,” I told him.
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The mural across from the Chamber of Commerce is coming along well, too. Downtown has a lot of activities tomorrow, including square-to-square bike rides.
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I took a picture where Water street abuts George Park. I was facing what used to be the Layman’s block. It’s fascinating to stand in open urban spaces, especially where such space hasn’t existed for decades. The sun was phenomenally bright. It might not have been good to have opted to walk wearing all black.
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I walked around a few buildings that I haven’t in a long time; in part, this was because I try to avoid looking like a prowler when I criss-cross the urban landscape in the dark. As usual, I saw people, places, and things that were interesting.
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To my surprise, I got BEHIND the fence, somehow. As I’ve learned, though, if you look like you belong, well, you belong wherever you are.
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I took many other pictures. Because the sun was so bright and because I’m a terrible photographer, most resulted in dark (or overly whitish) blobs. One of the pictures I hoped would be great was of a woman who was staring at me in a strange way as I stood by one of the buildings. So, I snapped a picture of her and she sped off. I laughed.
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Watching him play the guitar made me REALLY want to learn to play. Not for my own sake, but so that I could teach him how to do it correctly.
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It’s not my idea, but I agree that the bomb squad should run away from every properly defused bomb. It’ll make great footage and give spectators something to laugh and talk about afterward.
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I am 100% certain that TikTokers are using my old lists of jokes and ideas for videos.I just watched another one using the idea of wearing a ski mask to bed at night to confuse would-be robbers.
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The problem with having a collection of sidewalk chalk is that everything easily becomes a canvas. Whether intended or not.
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I have a co-worker who is 60+. He’s in great shape. A few weeks ago, someone asked him to run the Hogeye Marathon with him. My co-worker ran EIGHTEEN miles on his first day of training. I asked him, “You do know that the race is ONLY 26+ miles, right?”
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The Hogeye Marathon passes through my neighborhood. On the other hand, it is no accident that even visitors are smart enough to RUN through East Springdale.
Some milestones are preposterous. The one I reached today is both ridiculous and noteworthy: I bought new underwear. It’s not a life event, the act of buying new underwear. But it can make you feel markedly different, especially if you fail to put on pants while wearing them. It’s best to skip over any accidental mental image the last joke might have inspired.
Not to be stylish or because my other underwear was old and worn; quite the contrary. My last set of underwear was remarkably new, at least on a timeline representing men’s underwear. There are two types of men: those who need stylish and updated underwear and those who change underwear with each new president. (If they’re lucky.) As I do with my socks, I buy an entirely new set when I buy them, discarding all the old ones. It’s quite the ritual, one that people mock until they try it.
It hasn’t been that long since I replaced all my underwear. I did it because I had lost so much weight and size that I floated in them. The same is true today. I put off buying another set, as it seemed stupid and wasteful. (But not ‘waistful.’ Ha! I just added ‘waistful’ to my dictionary.) For reasons unknown to me, a woman at work said, “Hey, you look amazing!” as I retrieved a diet soda from the case. We briefly chatted, and I shared my deep secret of weight loss with her. (Don’t open your mouth so often.) She told me I was starting to look invisible, and she wished me luck in the future. She’s older, so she well knows that the yo-yo effect is no laughing matter, especially as we age.
Almost all my clothing is different now, over the last several months. It didn’t occur to me that I might need to downsize underwear twice during the process.
The picture on this post is of me wearing another vest. This one makes me look a bit pastorish for reasons that are hard to pinpoint. (I added ‘pastorish’ to my dictionary, too, because I am one of the millions of owners of this language we share.)
It’s hard to believe that I had trouble tucking in my shirt six months ago.
It’s even harder to believe I let myself stay fat for so long. I’m still processing why that was the case.
But for today, it’s new underwear – and bragging about it on the internet. Some people run marathons. The rest of us take our small victories where we can get them.
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“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” ― Mark Twain
The algorithms at work on the internet know way too much. I googled “Interesting things to do in East Springdale” as a joke. Literally, the first thing that popped up was an ad for funeral services. Note that even the maps of this part of the town convey a very specific message…
It was love at first sight. He stood between the well-stocked aisles, mouth agape, shocked at the beauty in front of him. He had successfully ignored the growl of hunger inside himself for what seemed like days. A woman stood to the side, wearing blue jeans and a long-sleeved blouse, a smile as big as Christmas on her face. She wore simple casual white shoes. More importantly, a wall of chips stood behind her, a collection of colors and flavors as diverse as any he’d witnessed. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on those chips, his fingers covered with a variety of flavorings. If only the woman would get the hell out of the way so he could get started.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 