Tuesday, August 23, 2016

We are never as prepared for adversity as we thought....

  I love to ask young folks if they have a pen knife, for few use a pen knife to sharpen and shape quill pens any longer, but I would bet Thomas Jefferson and George Washington had one.  But I remember playing with Case and Barlow folding knives when I was on recess at grade school. And I wasn't the only boy and there were common sense rules of conduct around the knives. My major problem with folding knives came with a bad reputation for acting tough and fighting - so naturally it was assumed that if I had an opportunity to draw a blade and cut someone I would.  But I was never that afraid nor stupid. That didn't keep me out of trouble for the ease of making me look cruel, stupid and totally dangerous.  The answer from most modern children not on a farm is that they don't have one, aren't allowed to have one or that they don't need one... for various reasons, it all depends on the family.

  Well, I was up early and had a couple of shipping boxes from Cabela's to recycle and the taping was resisting this feeble old fellow, so I went for my knife, one of three I normally carry around. Sorry, you are in the wrong pants, no knives in your pockets... what to do? Could go all the way back into the house and get one of several within reach of this computer terminal, or to the car, or to... they are everywhere except on me beside the trash and recycle containers. The closest stash is the tool shed, but all the good knives are behind all the tools and stuff that we use daily.  Looking inside the closest blade is the two handed machete - okay, I can cut tape with that bad boy. I did and then folded the cardboard so I wasn't packing too much air in the container.  Put the big ugly but sharp tool in the sheath and return to hang in the tool shed. Go get coffee and breakfast and put a knife in your pocket as you continue to prepare to face the world outside this little quiet place.

  Yesterday I had haunted the Exchange looking for shampoo and shoes and a man stopped me and asked if he looked familiar? And did I live on 152nd Street? I told him, 'No, I live on 159th Street Ct E.' and he says he was my neighbor back then when we bought our new homes in 1995. So I spent a pleasant hour talking with him about all the things that have happened to us in the years since.  Very enjoyable time. I really ought to pay more attention to other folks, they moved to a bigger home when the second son was born. But then I would have to ruffle some feathers, and I don't want to bother anyone.  When I was low on one of my medications I called the doctor for a new prescription, but I was told I had to check with my pharmacy since the doctor had given me one in June that had refills. I checked and the pharmacy doesn't have that so I won't get any, one less daily pill.

  I stopped to get a report on all my checking account transactions for this month, I was about two hundred to four hundred dollars different from what the ATM said, which could be a problem if I weren't aware. The clerk printed out the two page report and I balanced my Quicken program and found my errors, which makes me very happy - love pretending I know what I am doing.  Off to visit the YMCA, still can't do more than walk, but I have hope for after the doctor's visit Friday. Spent some time walking, lots of time talking and listening and saying hello. Then back home to wife and lunch and more resting, saw two programs and then went to the Blues don't need to think for music. I am not performing.  The day has gone well, guess I can take my gun off and shower and prepare for sleep.

   There is some feeling that the internet is really bad when users bully and pick on the other users... but that only works when one pays attention to fools. People offend me constantly when they use vulgar and profane language... but I am old and stable enough to ignore their problem, they never notice I don't use it and never wonder why I don't cyber visit their comments more often. But then I am not important in their lives, just a shadow of whom I was once upon a time.  Do good stuff and make me smile for happy. Night!


  1. Glad you're up and around! :-)

  2. Glad you're up and around! :-)

  3. Well, I'm glad you're up and around, too, even though this is my first visit to your blog. :)
    Re carrying knives, I'm 60 years old, and carried pocket knives since I was 13 (in the Scouts; I didn't carry in Junior High or High School, I don't know what the rules were but I figured the "Authoratehs" would not appreciate even me carrying one. I carry a Swiss Army knife, not the smallest one, but a Spartan/Tinker/Tourist, because I like having a corkscrew. My father carried a pocket knife, and his father before him (Grand-dad was a farmer, so I'm not surprised he carried a knife, only that it was a pocket knife). People react oddly when I produce the knife for removing staples or cutting packing tape, or rescuing a pelican from fishing line and fishooks, as if they cannot imagine such a device for such innocuous uses.
    I have to leave it in the car when I go to court, or, to my surprise, to a Yanni concert (Who knew the little old ladies were such a tough crowd?). Once, my brother went somewhere to be part of the crowd seeing President Bush, and not having the experience with metal detectors that I did, took HIS Swiss Army knife along. "Sir, could you step aside, please?" He got it back afterwards, and one of his co-workers asked him, "Why did you take a knife along?" He replied, "I always have it along. It's a tool. Women have fingernails, men don't." My nephew is already "corrupted", and thinks it's kind of cool that Dad carries a knife. He also likes Legos so I expect that now that he's ten years old he'll start taking stuff apart.