The Car Culture…

Riding my bike to work is just not going to work.  It was a hectic and scary ride down busy highway 29 as cars honked at me and people hollered out their windows for me to get off the “fucking” road.  I realized we live in a car culture with little respect given to bicycle riders.  I felt like the biggest schmuck in the whole world causing traffic problems as I peddled furiously to work this morning.  I also was a sweaty mess by the time I arrived at work and my exertions had overridden my deodorant.  I smelt strongly of underarm odor all morning and was extremely self conscious.  It didn’t help my anxiety any.  It is back to the car culture for me as well tomorrow morning.  I will just have to ride for exercise late in the afternoons when it is cooler.  I can ride down to the park every evening for my sunset brew ritual. 

I ran by Florene’s house after work.  She wrote me a check for the magazines I had ordered George.  I thanked her profusely as they were very expensive.  She was just overjoyed I could do that for him.  George doesn’t read books and magazines seemed like the best recourse as far as giving him something to read on a regular basis.  Mrs. Florene is also cooking me my favorite meal tonight.  I asked her if Kim could come.

“Who’s this Kim you speak of?” she asked me excitedly knowing something interesting was up.

“She’s my new girlfriend,” I told her proudly.

Mrs. Florene just had a fit, fawning over me, and said she would also make her fantastic pineapple upside down cake for dessert in celebration.  I thanked her for her efforts and told her we would be there at seven sharp.  I had gambled and asked Kim at work if she wanted to come thinking Florene wouldn’t mind.  She always cooks for an army anyway. 

I left Mrs. Florene’s house and had a trailer ball installed on my car out on the interstate.  I was surprised at how economical the trailer place was.  I was expecting to spend a lot more money to get that done.  I then drove to the man’s house with the trailer I had found on Craig’s list.  It was perfect for my needs if not older.  I paid him cash and pulled the trailer home.  This will greatly expand my yard care operations in the afternoon.  I will be able to pull my mower to neighborhood’s far flung across our little town.   The trailer even had fittings for my weed eater to be secured as I drove.  It was very nice and I was very excited to get it at a steal.  The man just wanted to dump it for some quick cash.

I have been waffling what to do about work.  It has been so slow lately.  I arrived home and still didn’t have any calls from all those applications I filled out this weekend.  My work history is frankly shitty which is mostly likely the cause.  I have decided just to stick it out with Wal-Mart and concentrate on my yard care business – building it up over many months.  I am just going to be determined and be a hustler and bustler about that.  I also don’t want to start my nine month trial work period.  It is precious really – being able to draw a full wage while still drawing disability.  That is something that should be saved for an emergency. 

Well, I am off to power wash my Benefactor’s vinyl siding.  He rented a power washer this weekend.  He also told me he wants me to power wash his driveway and walks tomorrow as well.  I love this steady work he gives me.  It is much easier anxiety wise for him to call me, than for me to have to get out and knock on doors to drum up work.  I will also have to get busy this week mowing my regular customer’s lawns I mowed two weeks ago.  We’ve got lots of rain and the grass has really grown in that time.  I will write again tonight about my day!

Midnight in the Chattahoochee Valley…

I couldn’t sleep last night after sleeping for about four hours.  I was wide awake at midnight.  I had two Klonopin to take which usually make me sleepy as they are very sedating, but I knew to save them for the next afternoon – ever mindful of that anxiety that always hits the most late in the day.  I got online and applied for countless fast food jobs just for the hell of it – interested in if I would get some calls.  I also applied for a job opening as a grocery clerk at Kroger -- putting feelers out there.  The assessment tests on these online applications were interesting in what they would ask – only a moron would answer incorrectly the questions were so obvious in their solutions. 

I wandered down to the convenience store well after midnight.  The clerk was leaned against the counter looking bored.  Only one other customer was there pumping gas in the parking lot.  He smiled as I walked in saying good morning.  A stereotypical country music song about love lost was playing on the radio sitting on the counter.  I stepped back to the beer cooler to pull out a .99 cent 16oz Steel Reserve – my favored beer these days for it’s high alcohol content.

“Slow night?” I asked the clerk as I stepped up to pay and show my ID.

“It’s nice,” he said with a another big smile as he rang me up.

The police were out in force last night being the weekend.  I am sure being ever mindful of weekend revelers and drunk drivers.  I walked up through the extremely poor neighborhood beyond the convenience store.  I passed a house where a man and woman were arguing loudly and violently – no doubt fueled by alcohol on a Friday night/Saturday morning.  The lady stormed out onto the porch screaming at the man that she was going to her sister’s house.  I shook my head in concern and continued on.

The park was pitch black dark when I arrived.  The benches were still missing.  “What good is a park without benches?” I mused to myself aggravated.  I plopped down on the warm cement, donned my headphones, and drank my solitary beer.   I was hoping this little ritual would make me sleepy allowing me to go home and sleep a few hours more before work.

Sunrise found me still sitting in that park this morning listening to the radio.  I had made one more trip just down the road for another beer a few hours earlier – the effects of the alcohol had long since worn off.  Coast to Coast bored me this morning with open lines – paranoid talk of jet chem-trails prevailed.  “It is simple condensation,” my mind screamed listening to these conspiracy theorists proselytizing about the government manipulating our weather and the atmosphere. The government can’t even fix the economy and these goobers think they can control the weather?

7:30am found me sitting over in my father’s kitchen taking my very large handful of morning medications.  I fear my father is going deaf.  The television was turned up so loud as to be disturbing.  I wanted peace and quiet after my late night out.   We talked some about my jobs.

“Why don’t you quit?” dad pleaded with me. “You just can’t do all of that.  You are going to get in a mess mentally.”

“I’ve felt better than I have in years!” I protested defiantly.

“You don’t need money, son,” he told me. “People like you shouldn’t be allowed money.”

“People like me?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“People who are mentally incompetent,” he said bitingly as he ate his strawberry preserves and toast as we sat at the kitchen table.

I sighed as I got up and left when my ten minutes were up without saying another word. We didn’t even say goodbye to each other – him miffed about my working.  I still have a lot of obstacles to overcome was what I thought as I drove to work.  The stigmas of mental illness are so palpable in my family.  I mused this morning that my father was probably much more mentally ill than I. It was like a revelation to me for the first time in years. His need to control things borders on maniacal. 

Magazines for George…

George wrote me today that he could receive magazine subscriptions in jail as long as they weren’t pornography, racially sensitive, or elicit.  He did make a joke about me getting him a subscription to Hustler.  I laughed as I read.  I got online and ordered some gift subscriptions for magazines using my newly acquired debit card.  I got him mainly news magazines such as Time.  I also ordered George a subscription to Model Railroader on a whim hoping he would get interested in the hobby. He will enjoy the photography if nothing else.

I called Mrs. Florene and told her about this and she wants to pay me back for the costs of the magazines.  I graciously accepted as they proved to be expensive.  She was just glad I was able to do this for George so easily with the Internet.  She said she was going to cook my favorite meal next week in compensation.  Ah, fried cubed steak, rice and gravy, steamed broccoli, and biscuits.  I love it!

I have mainly just been mailing George my blog posts, but I wrote a long letter this afternoon with my computer and mailed it out.  I wrote a lot about my fears of failure as far as my jobs are concerned. I am worried any day I will go back to my old mentally ill self when a severe anxiety attack will befall me. I also wrote to George for advice about joining the “social club” that meets in the evenings down at the convenience store.  It will be interesting to hear George’s advice on that in a few days – him being well versed in such interesting fellows. The fringe dwellers as I call them. 

The Christening of my Cellphone…

My very first phone call on my new cellphone was from Kim.  I smiled when it rang as it was sitting on my computer desk after charging. 

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked inquisitively.

“Me and Derrick are watching movies,” I told her. “Would you like to join us for fun, movies, and beer?”

“I would love that,” she said. “But I hate beer.  I will be the designated driver. I might have one glass of wine.”

I smiled and told her how excited I was for her to be coming.  We talked a long time about work – a common subject between us.  She still makes jabs about me having the easiest job at Wal-Mart. She says I get paid for hanging out in electronics. 

“But it is a very hot job!” I protested as I laughed jovially. 

“Oh, you work mornings when it isn’t that hot,” she said goodheartedly. “Quit your bitching!”

I told her all about my best friend, George, this afternoon who is in jail for a DUI I said.  I told her about what an interesting and good guy he was and about him possibly coming home on parole in October.  She said she couldn’t wait to meet him.  I explained to her about him being a fringe dweller and what fringe dwellers are. 

“He can be crass at times,” I warned her. “George’s strong suit is not social etiquette.”

She laughed and then we got off the phone after finalizing our plans for the night.  I am just going to pick her up at her house and she will ride with me to Derrick’s apartment.  I hope Derrick doesn’t mind me bringing a friend.  The more the merrier is what I always say.  They both knew each other from work already so they have a rapport.  

The Mountain Bike Rides Again…

Do you think I will be able to do it?  To bike the three miles to work every morning and home at lunch?  I will probably get lazy and quit, but I am going to give it a good try.  I mainly want to save the wear and tear on my car.  It seems my car is going to have to last me many more years – dad having decided to hold off on buying new Hondas for a while yet.  I will not be getting my mother’s Honda Civic for the foreseeable future.  Charlie keeps pushing dad to do this, but dad doesn’t want more car payments.  The payment on his BMW is exorbitant. 

I got the tires on my mountain bike fixed this afternoon adding new tubes.  I pumped them up with my fingers crossed and everything seems fine.  I did a little maiden voyage around the block and it felt good to be back on a bike.  I need a new larger seat, though, as the current seat hurts my boney ass. It is a really nice Schwinn bike and I hope to put it to good use in the next few months.  It is much more economical than a scooter and it is paid for lock. stock and barrel. 

Fringe Dwellers…

There was a very slight and shifty looking fellow frantically panhandling in the parking lot this morning.  I watched with interest as many customers turned him away.  “There has got to be an easier, softer way to make money,” was what I thought. “Less demeaning”  I was gathering some carts when he stopped to talk to me.

“Are they going to run me off?” he asked, worried, seeing my Wal-Mart smock realizing I was an employee.

“The security guy will eventually,” I replied, warning him.

“Have you got five bucks I could have?” he pleaded. “I am trying to get up the money for a new battery for my car.  I am stuck in the McDonald’s parking lot up the road.”

I pulled out my wallet and gave the man five bucks even though I knew the line about the battery was a farce.  I’ve heard that very same line before.  I wished him the best as he scurried into the store to do what I assume was to buy some beer.  I realize most people who panhandle have addictions, but I felt it wasn’t my decision to decide if this man could have a drink or not. Too many times in my adult life I have been told by my father what I can and can’t do so I had some empathy for the fellow.  I actually wanted him to be able to enjoy a few beers.  I know that will be wildly unpopular, but that’s how I felt at the time this morning.   Better to give him the money than for him to shoplift or steal to get the beer was what I thought. 

I find these kinds of people fascinating.  They are not the safety conscious milquetoast middle America that live boring lives.  I call these people fringe dwellers just like George and the gang were – living on the fringes of society.  That’s why I am so keen to become part of the “social club” that hangs out down at the convenience store drinking wine, smoking, and chatting every night.  These people live colorful and vibrant lives that is also good fodder for the blog as far as tales go.  I like to call it research as far as the journal is concerned.  I want to chronicle these people’s lives in words for prosperity and interest.  My experiences with them will also enrich my life I hope as I explore other lives, race relations, etc.  And maybe I will learn a few lessons about life along the way as well.  Like the adrenaline junkie who jumps out of airplanes to skydive, I find myself wanting to take chances and be aggressive with my life for a change.   Far too long, I’ve sat at home scared of the world outside my front door – scared that my mental illness would flare and I would get in a mess.  Better to flare than miss out on life as I have for years I have learned. 

Friendships Forming…

I find now that I am out of the house and working that I am meeting so many new people.  There are so many social avenues opening up for me which a few weeks ago would make me shy away in social horror.  Our Wal-Mart is a very, very big place full of customers and employees – lots of people talking and interacting.  I had hopes with my ventures in Alcoholics Anonymous that I would have similar experiences, but I did not.  Alcoholics are strange creatures – often loners.  I found that you would have to attend meetings for months to be accepted into the club – as if to prove you are no longer drinking and are safe to befriend.  So many people come and go out of those meeting halls it can be dizzying to form relationships in my experiences with the program.

Derrick and I have become great friends over the past two weeks.  We both share a keen interest in all things electronic.  I look forward to our daily chats about iPhones and LCD televisions to Blu-Ray players.  All things I love and am keenly interested in.

Today, the ever androgynous Derrick asked me if I had seen Toy Story 3.

“I’ve never seen any of those movies,” I replied. “I found it hard to sit through a full length movie for years due to my stir craziness.”

“Oh, you would love them,” he said. “They’re not just for kids.  Let’s rent 1 and 2 this weekend, grab a few beers, and watch them on my big screen television.”

“I would enjoy that,” I replied.

It felt so good to have a friend – to do what “normal” people do.  To get together and watch movies.  To talk of shared interests with a passion.  I think my returning to work has been the best thing to happen to me in years.  Who would have thought I would now have an average normal guy for a friend and a possible girlfriend?  It is so exciting and invigorating! I would have never thought I could be social, but by facing my social anxieties, I am finding it easier every day. 

The Agenda for the Afternoon…

I have decided not to buy that scooter much to my own chagrin.  I just can’t justify spending $750 dollars on a motorized vehicle when I have a perfectly good and even more extremely economical mountain bike to travel to and from work with.  It is about three miles to work and I think I can easily peddle that far if I leave on time every morning.  The catch?  Getting my years unused mountain bike back in service.  It needs new tubes for the tires and I am hoping work will have them.  I bought the bike at Wally World years ago with a savings bond that my then living grandmother gave me.  So getting my bike back in action is part of the agenda for the day.

My benefactor has run out of things for me to do until he rents a power washer for me to wash his vinyl siding.  I think I will hit the neighborhood once again “networking” to try and drum up some more regular customers for my yard care business.  You will find me slowly toodling around the neighborhood this afternoon on my now quiet riding lawn mower.  There were so many houses I tried last week where no one was seemingly at home.  I will try them again today. 

A Good Day Dawns...

Another enjoyable morning was spent down at the railyard.  I walked far down the tracks to the bridge spanning the Chattahoochee river.  The smell of the river water was acrid as they were generating electricity up at the dam.  This bridge was built in the 1920s and it's starting to look decrepit.  I tried to imagine all the countless tons of train that have gone before me over this bridge.

I left the tracks and walked over to Rodger's Barbeque.  Some of you may remember I used to have a tab at this restaurant.  I still had $14 dollars left on my tab.  I got a pound of barbeque and a pint of Brunswick stew.  I walked back over to the bank to sit and eat.  The day was just gorgeous.  Warm breezes and bright blue skies.

I had left my bike chained up at the shopping center on one of the posts out front.  I crossed my fingers it would still be there and it was.  I climbed aboard and headed home.   

My Chariot I Ride...

Rode my sparkly, new Scwhinn mountain bike into downtown.  Spent some time browsing in the shops.  I thought it was neat I rode from Alabama into Georgia on a bike.  Shopping seems so foreign to me now, though.  I stood as I looked at prices and they all seemed like hundreds and hundreds of dollars.  I only had a few measly bucks to my name leftover from my trip to Chuck's Barbeque.  My journey ended at Fred's dollar store in the shopping center.  I bought a pack of $1 dollar Benadryl to tide me over until Dad comes tonight.  At least I have my Soma. 

I left downtown and stopped in the railyard one more time.  A huge CSX crane was unloading an old Seaboard Coastline boxcar at the railroad museum.  I gawked as that spindly crane carefully unloaded it's cargo.  I clapped as they righted the boxcar upon it's trucks on the track.  The museum's menagerie of old railroad equipment continues to grow.  I don't know how this museum supports itself, though, as no one ever visits. 

I dread work tonight.  I am supposed to organize all the paperwork for our home healthcare operation.  I actually volunteered, but didn't realize what I was getting into.  I may be at work until after closing.  That's okay.   My father stays until nine every night anyway.  I hope he is in a good mood and I can spend some time with him -- quality time.    

Railroading Man

Spent the past few days obsessed with my Model Railroaders. Sunup finds me in my Lazy Boy reading, and sundown finds the same. Little empires are built in my mind as I daydream and enjoy the artistry of others. Rosa is wondering when I am going to tire of this phase I am going through. I've been so obsessed that my usual pastimes of blogging and writing have fallen to the wayside.

This afternoon I broke away from my magazines long enough to get my mountain bike roadworthy again. The tires were flat and the chain and gears needed oiling. I felt like a little kid again riding through my neighborhood in the cool evening air tonight.

I was standing out in the back yard putting my bike under the basement when Rosa called outside tonight. She said she had supper ready. She had fixed an easy supper of grilled cheddar sandwiches and some vegetable/beef soup I had frozen that she thawed. It was a delicious supper befitting this cool, almost fall-like evening.

I also talked to Dad on the phone this evening and we are going to drive to Riverdale, Georgia to Riverdale Station. A great little model railroading and train shop specializing in trains from the south. He said I could pick up some supplies and kits I intend to build. That gave me something to look forward to.

A Wail in the Distance

The tracks stretched out before me this morning like an endless trail -- a trail of wanderlust, journey, adventure. I intently watched the signal down the tracks for change. Soon, it changed from green to yellow signifying a train was on the way. The distant wail of an air horn could be heard far down the tracks beyond the bend. I placed my ear upon the rails like I always did as a child in this very same fashion to listen for the characteristic clickety clack of steel wheels upon steel rails over expansion joints. I grew excited and walked over to sit upon the bench behind the bank to enjoy the passing of a freight.

Ferret told me the other day that he hates these trains. "They keep me up all damn night," he said. Ferret's campsite is only a few hundred yards from the rails. I, on the other hand, revel in these great mechanical beasts. Often, I will lay in bed with Rosa by my side as I listen to that mournful wail of a freight train passing far downtown on the tracks, sleepless. It evokes fond childhood memories of my love for trains. It also stirs within me a deep loneliness and an unsettling feeling -- an urge to strike out and explore the rickety, ramshackle backsides of small towns in the South. I once hiked these rails to God's country a few summers ago and it is in my blog archives somewhere. The was a grand, but uncomfortably hot adventure.

We go today to buy Rosa a bicycle and I am excited. Rosa has some misgivings about it, though. She thinks she is too old to be riding a bike and will feel uncomfortable doing so. "The only people that ride bikes around here are you, poor black people, kids, and those exercise obsessed yuppies with the expensive road bikes and back spandex shorts," she told me. I tried to encourage her to break from conventional thought and for us to enjoy some rides together. She would be able to ride over anytime she wanted to see me and I was unable to go pick her up.

"Just think of the good times we could share," I told her enthusiastically, trying to share my love of bike riding.

"I guess," Rosa said. "It is still going to make me feel weird. Besides, those bike seats hurt my butt something terrible."

I laughed.

"We will buy you a more comfortable seat."

I am so excited about today. Today I will enjoy the simple things. I will look up for the moon, stand in a spotlight of sun, and I will inhale with a purpose. I'll notice the breeze through my clothes, in my hair, through me. I will slow down and enjoy every pleasure today has. This day is going to be delicious.

Destination Unknown

It was well after midnight when I awoke, without sleep, and headed out for a night bike ride. Life's soundtrack was Joni Mitchell's Night Ride Home as I peddled the streets of this late night deserted town. These early mornings are when I feel most at peace -- the town's denizens fast asleep. I can put the previous day behind me and revel in the day ahead.

Yesterday was a busy day. I was thinking this night as I peddled through town how I like for my days to be filled with activity. The days my social anxiety overwhelms me and I stay sequestered in my home can make for some long days indeed. I try so hard not to be the hermit that is my natural inclination.

Yesterday evening ended with my mother staying over for about an hour just to spend time with me. It is so heartwarming for me that a family member enjoys my company so that they would drive over and spend such a length of time caught in my mundane small talk. Mom was shaky last night worried my father was upset with her, though. I realize I can play the role of her psychotherapist some days. Like upon Freud's couch, she sits telling me all her problems as I analyze them and give her a pep talk. It is glaring how much of a child she can still be at sixty years old.

That's my goal these days -- to grow up. Far too long I was held captive in the mind of a child. Adult emotions. Adult Feelings. These are all my grandest aspirations. It took me getting sober to realize this. I've heard the old expression of being an adult child of an alcoholic, but how about being an alcoholic adult child? With baby steps, I tackle this undiscovered country that is becoming a man. Rosa notes it best when she tells me, "You're someone I feel can protect me and make the best decisions for our future. You are an equal companion." My ex-wife would probably scoff in horror at Rosa saying that, marking the fact that I was like her child when we were married. Rachel, people change, learn, and grow up.

Rubber Upon Asphalt

Black rubber upon hot, gray asphalt was my view in front as I rode my bike down to the rail yard this afternoon. Thunder rumbled all around me like great gods bowling in the sky, but it never did rain. I was feeling far too hot and lazy by the time I reached the rails to peddle any further. I hid my bike in the brush beside the tracks and just walked. Down past that old cotton mill I traversed as the sound of a far off train horn wailed. It would soon arrive to find me well off the tracks to watch as the engineer waved. I waved back like some 8-year-old overjoyed at the attention. Off to Atlanta, the train was headed, laden with a 50 car load of coal. No doubt to power the hundreds of thousands of homes surrounding that huge city.

I love days like today when I don't have a care in the world. I get to relive my favorite moments from childhood and gather my thoughts as I think and talk to myself. My greatest elation and deepest fears are worked out on my walks upon the rails. I will have these vivid conversations within my mind of how things are going and where I want them to be in a month or a year. It truly is the best form of mental masturbation I have found.

This afternoon, I arrived home hot and sweaty and climbed into a lukewarm shower. It felt wonderful and I love that smell of Irish Spring soap after emerging and toweling off. It will waft out of the bathroom of my small house making it smell so masculine, clean, and fresh. I put on some clean clothes and stood out on my back deck smoking a cigarillo to be greeted by Joyce. She said she was feeling much better today and asked me a hundred questions about making money on the Internet. She works for her church two hours a day and the stress, she feels, is too much. "First, you have to have a computer," I said stating the glaringly obvious. We both laughed. "Second, it takes a great deal of luck as well," I told her. "As with anything, you get out of it what you put into it." Joyce then asked me if she could come over later in the week for me to show her how. It will be a lost cause, but I told her I would. Joyce told me her computer was running Windows 98. I almost choked on the pull of smoke from my cigarillo as she said that. "I only use it to play solitaire," she said.

Biking through Town

It was a very cold morning, but the day has warmed up nicely. I decided to get my bike out of the garage and go for a ride. I first rode down to the old deserted railroad engine house and watched a few trains pass. I sat on the bench behind the bank. It reminded me of all the times I did this as a child on this very same bench.

I then rode over to Sara Jay’s eatery. They have this foot long chili dog and French fry platter for $3.99 that I am addicted to. I love my chili dog with extra onions and mustard. They always fix it just right at my request. After eating, I sat for the longest time drinking tea, smoking cigarettes, and people watching.

I enjoyed hearing other people’s conversations around me. One fellow was going on and on about all the rental property he owns. He was definitely bragging. Another lady was talking to a friend about her Christmas plans over some cheeseburgers and fries. People would come in and order and the waitress would holler out the order to the cook across the restaurant. You could hear the grill sizzle as more burgers were put on and the roaring bubbling of cooking oil as more fries were lowered in their basket into the hot oil. I enjoyed the ambiance.

I then left the restaurant and rode over to the Piggly Wiggly to get chocolate milk. George was no where to be seen, but Slop, Weasel, and Cap w/Tag Guy were there as usual. I sat down next to Slop on the bench in front of the Piggly Wiggly.

“You seen George?” I asked him as I sat down.

“He be down here earlier this morning,” Slop said. “He brought Juanita to buy her groceries.”

“If you see him again, tell him I was down here looking for him,” I replied.

“Weasel be talkin’ bout you,” Slop said trying to instigate an altercation.

“What has Weasel been saying?” I asked.

“He be sayin’ you were a faggot and give the best blow jobs in town,” Slop said as he giggled like a small child.

I laughed out loud and was intriqued by this bit of false gossip. Slop had thought that this would anger me and I would have had a go at Weasel. Sometimes, being around these guys is like being back in high school again; all the silly gossip, backstabbing, and drama. They can act like teenagers.

“You tell Weasel I want his hot, throbbing cock,” I replied.

Slop giggled some more and assured me he would tell that to Weasel. I then got back on my bike and headed for home. As I rode by Weasel standing down next the dollar store, I gave him a big smile and a wink. He looked thoroughly revolted. That gave me a big chuckle. I can play their silly games as well as any.

Bike Rides of Bliss

Early this morning I got on my mountain bike and rode down into West Point, Georgia. I traversed the bridge over the Chattahoochee River and stopped at the local convenience store. A policeman walked out and commented on my Auburn football t-shirt…..

“We are going to beat ya’ll next year!” He said goodheartedly as he laughed.

I assumed he was speaking of Auburn’s archrival Alabama. Apparently he was an Alabama fan. I laughed back and told him to have a good day and spoke a hearty “War Eagle” (our battle cry) in reply as he got back into his patrol car.

I walked in and bought a cup of coffee and a honey bun. I then sat down outside on the curb enjoying my purchase. I watched as the sun’s first light began to brighten the land and a small southern town once again came back to life for another day.

As the sun rose higher and my coffee turned cold, I climbed aboard my bike and once again made my way back towards the river. I spotted Dumpster Diving Dan busily feeding the seagulls in the parking lot beside the liquor store and headed that way. I greeted him and watched as hundreds of voracious seagulls greedily snapped up his offerings of stale bread. They squawked loudly and scrambled amidst each other in this great mass of grey and white. I then made my way home and took a long, hot shower.

What a great way to start your day with exercise and interesting moments!

Happy Trails

Had a great outing yesterday. My legs are awfully sore today though and are balking from my exertions. The odometer on my bike says that I rode over 12 miles. At one point I stopped by a large pond taking in my surroundings. It was a beautiful day with the sun high overhead and a gentle breeze. The temperature was comfortable and not too hot. I could see the bream and bass swimming at the ponds edge. I sat and munched on some cheese and crackers taking long draughts from my water bottle while listening to the weather band on my radio.

Today is the start of my dreaded final exams. I think I am ready as I am ever going to be. I will just go in and do my best. One more week to go and I will be finished for the summer. I cannot wait. I have some interesting and exciting plans for this summer. I cannot wait until the days really warm up and the afternoon thunderstorms start to pop. Ah, summer in the south.

Country Trails

Enough studying! I have studied till my brain is numb. I am just going to walk in class tomorrow and take my finals and be done with it. Today shall be a day for enjoyment and fun. The weather will be beautiful with a high of 78 degrees.

I pulled my mountain bike out of the garage after a winter of disuse this morning. I oiled the chain and pumped up the tires. I also packed my day pack with snacks and bottles of water. I am going to head out spring road and hit some country trails today and get some exercise. I will write about my travels later today if I feel like it when I get home.