Ok dammit… Since my GD (gosh darn) car can’t seem to make it’s way to the Community Center to work out.. I thought I’d let my feet try… So I walked there… How far you ask? (No Victor, we really don’t give a shit, but I bet you’re gonna tell us anyways huh?)… 2 miles, each way.. Uphill… Ok, somewhere between 1 and ½ to 2 miles round trip. No, it ain’t aerobic probably, or orgasmic… but I did see organic - as in chicky with way too low cut top on bending over raking leaves. Of course I turned my head. No dammit, the OTHER way.
I discovered people’s grass, and treatment thereof, is probably a lot like their personalities. There’s the “I don’t give a shit, don’t get too riled up over much” yard (ahm, that was the very first one I saw, hehe.).. There’s the “Going thru the motions, regular oh regular” yard.. Nicely mowed, some clippings still on the walk, a few weeds, bare spots here and there.. And then the meticulous.. Perfect.. Everything in it’s place…deep, deep green… grass around the edges standing so straight and tall just likea.. Ah, never mind…
I discovered the people in these yards, age 2 to 70, treat walkers differently as well… The guy with the van marked electrician/plumbing/heating/cooling - with the Union local sticker on it - was too busy in his yard world inspecting to give a shit about any happenings around.
The two couples, some sorta different language speaking clan, they kinda perked up when I walked by - but no greeting.. And that’s cool… Wouldn’t it be sooooo cool to speak a second language? “specially at work. With a smile you could loudly state (in Portuguese) “I really, really hate that bitch” (smiling even broader) “and I think her taste in clothes is atrocious.”… or, mebbe (in French.. Of course) “my God my God, that chicky there gives me instant boner..what I wouldn’t give for two hours in the sack with her” and finish that all off with a good ole nut scratch for dramatic purposes…
Oh yeah, the Walk. Motorcycle coming. As my brand spanking new eyeballs focused closer.. HUH? THERE’S A LITTLE KID SITTIN’ INFRONTA HIS DAD ON THERE!… and he was… maybe 3.. Cute as hell.. Drove back by,… goggles, helmet.. Bigass smile… dad had him tucked in fairly safely.. I guess… (Is it still legal - or was it ever - to ride in the backa a pickup truck?)
Group out in lawn chairs on the poorest block en route to the Calorie Community Center… “Hey, how you doing” one reached out with.. “Great.. Thanks.. And you guys?”… “Perfect.. Thanks.”… This was on the way home.. And the gal with the too low cut tank top happened to be amongst ‘em.. Again, I turned my head. (Damn she had pretty eyes too!)..
Dad up on porch… Termite and his Big Wheel.. Kid maybe 2 - on the sidewalk.. A LOUD “HI!” followed by killer smile… “Well HI!”… Ain’t it a pitty that kid’s gotta some day learn partsa life suck… all ‘bout those with prejudice around him… how much people think work plain ole sucks.. Having to watch those loved ones around him grow old and eventually fade away.. Eh, parta life I guess.
Remote control airplane in sky doing all kindsa tricks… I looked for a snotnose teen on the ground with the remote controller.. Nope.. Some dude 50-ish… Way cool man, I don’t wanna grow up either…
It was a nice walk. A medium walk for me. Perfect weather. Perfect scenery. Boobies. Blades. Barespots. Bores. Byplanes. Bystanders. Bubbly ones… By cracky, it weren’t bad.
I see me back in them 36’s ohhhh… mebbe Christmas time…. 2008.
I'm walkin', yes indeed and I'm talkin' About you and me…Walk this way… Just walk away Renee…. Under the boardwalk, down by the sea, On a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be.
Walking is all about dreaming. They say ya need 10,000 steps a day, or sumpin like that.
Speakin’ o 10,000.… one time… no, not the camp thing.. One time.. Two little onere shit brothers (10-ish) were outside at 10:30pm one night.. Tommy? Jeff? The heck you guys doing out at this hour? (Victor, I think you’ve told this…. KMA it’s my blog, if I have, tough!)
Tommy looked up.. Said… “eh, mom and dad told us to go outside and count to 10,000”.. I think they were either really getting on parent’s nerves… or… the house wasa rockin;.. Maybe both.. Hell who knows.
Walk thru life with a smile. I certainly try. It don’t always work, but I’m having fun creating that smile wrinkle on my face. Hell, least when I look in the mirror it’ll be a good reminder.
Loveya, Victurd…
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