Due to certain tragic events in my family I have lost my funny bone. I have no idea how long it will last. But this will give me a chance to work on some serious stuff and my novel. I will be writing to keep myself busy and will stay alert on the dog walks. I'll take notes and keep an eye on the neighborhood.
Until then my friends.
The garbage man has managed to take a reoccurring role in the neighborhood drama I've created in my head. He is a Friday character as Friday morning is garbage day. My observations have revealed he is a real go-getter.
We live on a corner lot and he parks his garbage truck on the street next to the side of my house. This area is part of mine and the dogs route, nice guy, I wave to him every Friday morning. I can't speak to him unless I yell because the garbage truck is loud. And I never engage in conversation with anyone in the morning so I'm certainly not going to yell, just a friendly wave.
I'm sure this all sounds normal to you so far and it does to me too. Let's get to why I have classified him as a Kookamongaville character. It's the go-getter part that leads to his kookamonga tendencies. Apparently he has a certain start time but arrives early. Why does he arrive early? Well he has to apply his sunscreen. And then he has to do some stretching. Swear to God, hand on the bible he looks like he's getting ready for a football game. Running in place, loosening up his neck and swinging his arms around. This garbage man takes his job seriously and for that I admire him but he still fits well in my neighborhood.
The pajama man gave me a hearty 'Good Morning" last week which makes me think that he probably has a few good years left in him. We haven't been able to get to his street this week because there is a new dog walker that keeps getting in my way. He started down the pajama mans street and with it being a culdesac I didn't want to get trapped with our dogs barking at each other. And I prefer my arms in their sockets.
The Russian woman has me slightly concerned. I've mentioned before that she slowly swims laps around the perimeter of the pool non-stop, but I also run into her about once a week on the morning walk. I don't know if all Russians are taught to march before they learn to walk and it's a hard habit to break once you've reached the free world but she is a marcher. And this week she caused my eyebrows to rise. Dressed in a blue dress with a magenta sweater, tennis shoes and socks, she was marching around my beloved, now closed, pools parking lot. Her arms bent at her elbows moving back and forth in unison. She had her big sunglasses on and a baseball cap slightly a skewed and resting on her shades. She said good morning in her thick Russian accent. I could barely see her face, she's up to something. I will continue to keep an eye on her and eventually work up the nerve to ask her to say, 'moose and squirrel'.
So the garbage man has a guest roll in the on going neighborhood mayhem. Welcome garbage man, you crazy bastard.
A couple weeks ago the condominium people behind my house placed two Pet Waste Stations in their little condo sanctuary. The dog and I walk back there most mornings and I took note every time we past them. I told the dog,
"You know I have to blog about these eventually, right?"
There are instructions with pictures as to how to dispose of dog poop. I've seen these Pet Waste Stations before so it isn't just the condo people that are assumed stupid, it's the whole world.
This morning we past the first one and I decided I couldn't pass by the next, I had to take a picture and it was going to be today. Taking pictures of Pet Waste Stations and all the other strange things I see in the world don't phase me anymore. If someone looks at me weird I just tell them
"I'm a blogger."
They look at me with uncertainty and then look away. So I got my phone ready, because it takes me a while to find the right buttons to take a picture, especially when I only have one hand free.
