I really am not surprised easily. I'm usually quite aware of my environment or an event that might be celebrated. Just seem to read the tale tell marks of a surprise coming. That's why getting caught twice in one day bowled me over.
Chas had been grocery shopping. When he returned and knocked on my door and said he needed help. Chas is in a motorized wheel chair and does need help from time to time. I am only two doors away and can quickly respond. He had asked for my help once today to set up one of his outside plants that has fallen over. A second request was not that unusual. When I returned from getting paper goods at Target (Maria swears they are the cheapest there). Haven't done any comparison pricing so don't have a clue. I'll tell you this, it is closer than WalMart.
I rarely answer the door. I just scream "come on in" or "are you coming in or not." That's my favorite. My upstairs neighbors always says I haven't been invited and I respond that never stopped you before. Not true she never comes in without being invited.
But I digress as usual. When Chas pushed open the door and said he needed help I jumped up to see what I could do. He wanted something removed from is shopping bag which was hanging on the back of his chair. I assumed he could not get turned around enough to reach it. See that ice cream in there? Yes. Can you get it out for me. So I dig through his bag and find the Banana Split ice cream and while I am holding it he drove off without saying a word. You forgot your ice cream. No I didn't. I'm addicted to ice cream and will try most flavors. I'm not interest is spinach flavored chocolate. It has no appeal.
I get a call around 6:00 and can see it is from my upstairs neighbor. Seeing her name I began speaking in some trumped up make believe Asian language. I don't really know any. I keep going and she is trying to talk over me. It's not her. What? I start to listen and it's the lady whose parking space I often steal during the day. Ir's midnight — do you know where you car is? Yes, in the garage. But where in the garage? Memory is jogged and I gasp. In you parking space. I am so sorry. I had plans to move it but never did. It's OK. I parked outside and am leaving first thing in the morning. Just leave it. I didn't want to but I finally did. The upstairs neighbor took her phone back and said, I just wanted to harass you. You did and made me feel very guilty. I would like to promise I will never do that again, but I probably will. Her spot is so close to the door. Now If I can just get my heart back to a regular beat.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
PUZZLE ELBOW
I think I have puzzle elbow. It can't be a tennis elbow, I haven't played tennis in years. It might be arm chair elbow for sitting and watching TV, but I never heard of that before. One friend said it could be puzzle elbow. We tend to lean on the table with one arm while finding pieces with with the other. Made me think. How to I sit or stand when working on a puzzle? Don't really remember and didn't work on the puzzle today so haven't checked it out. I probably just got it twisted while sleeping. That won't stop me from calling it puzzle elbow.
Oh the drama. There is always drama. There has been a lot of talk about the fellow who moved in at the beginning of April. He definitely is developmentally hampered. I young woman came to see him last night. Clem met her at the door and they went up to his room. She came back down fifteen minutes later crying. Clem had hit her. Where? Right across the face. The people in the commons room called the manager who came down to talk to the woman. That conversation is very confidential, but the rumor mills are working over time trying to guess what was said and why the police came, what they did, who did they talk to and was anyone taken away. It's a secret. No one knows. That makes the discussion really outrageous. Clem beat a girl to a pulp. No kidding! How bad was it? She was badly hurt. Black and blue all over. No she wasn't. He broke her arm. How'd he do that? I heard he slammed it in the door. Did you hear the noise at your apartment? No, I must have been sleeping. What time did it happen? Two a.m. I thought it was closer to midnight. No, it was late. What was she wearing. It looked like a nice blouse, but it was nearly torn off her body and she had some blood dripping from her nose. She came in with a coat, but left without one. That's terrible. That's horrible. I can't believe they let people like that in here? The place is going to hell in a hand basket. Makes me wonder how that trip is made.
Whew! The imagination is better than what really happened, I suppose. Her face was slapped. No clothes were torn, the was no blood and no marks. The police did come, but no one really knows why. That has not stopped two from calling the office today and demanding his removal because he is dangerous and they are now fearful for their lives. He may be dangerous. I don't know, but no one wants to wait until the true is known to make a decision. They want him gone. He did not have the right to slap her. I guess they had been in the same housing before. She has the same issues Clem has.
If anything of a somewhat serious nature happens here, the guesses go so far beyond the true that it gets very hard to sort it all out. Even harder to believe anything being said. They should just ask me. I always know what actually happened. I wasn't there, but I can figure it out. I think there was a shooting. No one heard a gun, but a silencer was used. They haven't found the body yet, but if they were to look in the blackberry forrest in the lot next to us they will find the body was dumped out the window and it still there. I'm afraid to look. I do not want to see a dead body. I hate violence. I think they hauled Clem off and have charged him with murder. The investigation is ongoing — I think! I hope they don't ask me any questions. I might have to say I don;t know anything. If I did that I will be left out of the conversation.
Oh the drama. There is always drama. There has been a lot of talk about the fellow who moved in at the beginning of April. He definitely is developmentally hampered. I young woman came to see him last night. Clem met her at the door and they went up to his room. She came back down fifteen minutes later crying. Clem had hit her. Where? Right across the face. The people in the commons room called the manager who came down to talk to the woman. That conversation is very confidential, but the rumor mills are working over time trying to guess what was said and why the police came, what they did, who did they talk to and was anyone taken away. It's a secret. No one knows. That makes the discussion really outrageous. Clem beat a girl to a pulp. No kidding! How bad was it? She was badly hurt. Black and blue all over. No she wasn't. He broke her arm. How'd he do that? I heard he slammed it in the door. Did you hear the noise at your apartment? No, I must have been sleeping. What time did it happen? Two a.m. I thought it was closer to midnight. No, it was late. What was she wearing. It looked like a nice blouse, but it was nearly torn off her body and she had some blood dripping from her nose. She came in with a coat, but left without one. That's terrible. That's horrible. I can't believe they let people like that in here? The place is going to hell in a hand basket. Makes me wonder how that trip is made.
Whew! The imagination is better than what really happened, I suppose. Her face was slapped. No clothes were torn, the was no blood and no marks. The police did come, but no one really knows why. That has not stopped two from calling the office today and demanding his removal because he is dangerous and they are now fearful for their lives. He may be dangerous. I don't know, but no one wants to wait until the true is known to make a decision. They want him gone. He did not have the right to slap her. I guess they had been in the same housing before. She has the same issues Clem has.
If anything of a somewhat serious nature happens here, the guesses go so far beyond the true that it gets very hard to sort it all out. Even harder to believe anything being said. They should just ask me. I always know what actually happened. I wasn't there, but I can figure it out. I think there was a shooting. No one heard a gun, but a silencer was used. They haven't found the body yet, but if they were to look in the blackberry forrest in the lot next to us they will find the body was dumped out the window and it still there. I'm afraid to look. I do not want to see a dead body. I hate violence. I think they hauled Clem off and have charged him with murder. The investigation is ongoing — I think! I hope they don't ask me any questions. I might have to say I don;t know anything. If I did that I will be left out of the conversation.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
IS THIS JUNIOR HIGH
it's still early in the day and a lot more can happen, but already my blog is full. Let's begin at bread wars. No issues with the other shoppers, it was all an inside job. First, Maria tries to get in the door before me and successfully slows me down giving our competitors a better change at pulling what they want first. This is normal. This time she decided to pull bread for a while before she packed the bread in boxes. She does not trust Gail and I to get the kind of bread she wants. By the time she began packing she is several trays behind and upset that we were piling so much bread that she could hardly move. That's the idea. If she had moved to packing immediately, we would not have been that far in front. Then she began complaining about what free bread we got. Does she not understand the word FREE. With the word comes the implied message that you will get what excess they have, not what we want. She really does know this better than most. I suggested placing an order for what we want them to have extra. It may help. I'm not sure why that raised her temper. Duh!
To many hands available on arrival. A mini war broke out in the commons room between Maria and her predecessor. Agnes knew how to upload and stack the bread and got into a full out argument over how it should be done. A newer lady took Maria's side and esculated the conflict. I thought it was going to break into a fist fight. On the inside I was cheering for one, but kept my enthusiasm to myself. Very wise young man. A change for me, right?
While we were having coffee an age discussion began. Apparently one of the new men is at the minimum age for entry. So, he qualifies. Not good enough. He looks like he could be on the upped end of the scale. But he isn't. That seemed to be a big deal. Go figure. If you are sixteen you can drive. You may not look ready to drive, but the law says you can. The laws says he can live here. Should be the end of the discussion. It's not.
I made more errors on last months newsletter — again. In my trivia questions I had all the answers but missed one question. So shoot me. The calendar looks nice. Man is suppose to look on the outward appearance, What's this about checking for my errors. I am a very imperfect person even if I am cute. I asked my grand son one time what he really liked about himself. He said, I'm cute. How do you know that? Everyone tells me. He is cute and the girls already flock over him. He will be nine in a couple of months and basically unaware of the attention he is getting. That will change.
We have a lounge on the first floor. It has become a growing place of petty contention. One resident has considered this lounge an extension of her apartment. Unfortunately the area includes bulletin boards, sign up sheets and the mail boxes. The assumed owner has been gradually removing all decorations she does not like (basically all of them). Yesterday she removed the final two ornaments. An other person put a bottle of "Pediasure" on the table by the mail boxes. Things people want to give away are placed there for up to a week. Two others decided that since there was nothing on any of the stands or small tables that this item should be placed as an ornament. That was last night. This morning the the give-away was moved to the main building. So three residents have decided they will decorate the first floor lounge and have left for Goodwill to purchase many more items with which to decorate the lounge.
Hold on. The war is just beginning. I must get a small little camera to hide in the lounge so I can tape the conflict. It is going to be fun. Wish I could sell seats to the showdown.
To many hands available on arrival. A mini war broke out in the commons room between Maria and her predecessor. Agnes knew how to upload and stack the bread and got into a full out argument over how it should be done. A newer lady took Maria's side and esculated the conflict. I thought it was going to break into a fist fight. On the inside I was cheering for one, but kept my enthusiasm to myself. Very wise young man. A change for me, right?
While we were having coffee an age discussion began. Apparently one of the new men is at the minimum age for entry. So, he qualifies. Not good enough. He looks like he could be on the upped end of the scale. But he isn't. That seemed to be a big deal. Go figure. If you are sixteen you can drive. You may not look ready to drive, but the law says you can. The laws says he can live here. Should be the end of the discussion. It's not.
I made more errors on last months newsletter — again. In my trivia questions I had all the answers but missed one question. So shoot me. The calendar looks nice. Man is suppose to look on the outward appearance, What's this about checking for my errors. I am a very imperfect person even if I am cute. I asked my grand son one time what he really liked about himself. He said, I'm cute. How do you know that? Everyone tells me. He is cute and the girls already flock over him. He will be nine in a couple of months and basically unaware of the attention he is getting. That will change.
We have a lounge on the first floor. It has become a growing place of petty contention. One resident has considered this lounge an extension of her apartment. Unfortunately the area includes bulletin boards, sign up sheets and the mail boxes. The assumed owner has been gradually removing all decorations she does not like (basically all of them). Yesterday she removed the final two ornaments. An other person put a bottle of "Pediasure" on the table by the mail boxes. Things people want to give away are placed there for up to a week. Two others decided that since there was nothing on any of the stands or small tables that this item should be placed as an ornament. That was last night. This morning the the give-away was moved to the main building. So three residents have decided they will decorate the first floor lounge and have left for Goodwill to purchase many more items with which to decorate the lounge.
Hold on. The war is just beginning. I must get a small little camera to hide in the lounge so I can tape the conflict. It is going to be fun. Wish I could sell seats to the showdown.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
PUZZLING
It seems to have all happened at once. Puzzle problems in all the puzzle locations.
The main puzzle table is in the commons room. Everything was going well on a complicated puzzle with a perfectly white border on all sides. The rest of the puzzle (flowers in a vase on a cluttered table with a very busy drape in the background) was going slow, but going. One annoyed puzzler was sick and tired of the puzzle so tore it up and put it away to the dismay of those still working in it. I guess it never occurred to her that she could leave it alone or go to another room. No, she chose to antagonize many and cause trouble. That's Trouble with a capitol "T" and that rhymes with "me" and that... I have no idea where to go from there. I'll stop. The area conversation is very heated.
Meanwhile on the second floor of the main building they are working on a 2000 piece puzzle, but the table is too small. They have decided to split the puzzle and work on it on two tables. Since all our tables have round edges, I will be very difficult to ever put it together. Just imagine running with one piece between the tables. Confusing! But it has keep the number of workers to a minimum.
Now to our puzzle of three quilts hanging on a line in front of flowers, a cabin in the woods and snow capped mountains. A challenge but not impossible. I worked on the puzzle for about 20 minutes this morning alone. When one partner returned from the doctors she was very disappointed that I was working on one of the quilts (I like the easiest patterns first). It didn't matter to me so I broke up the quilt so she could do it. Wrong choice. She was even more angry. Women! Only God understands. It appeared to be resolved when I put it back together. I returned for about an hour late afternoon and finished the third quilt. No one had laid out the pieces so I dug around to find them and did it. When the same lady returned again she was angry that i had worked on "her section." You didn't leave a note. It wasn't set apart. How was I to know. You know I don't see very well and would want to do the quilts. (Sure I would, I can read minds). Sorry, I did not know you wanted to do that part. I was leaving the log cabin and lounge chairs for you, The color is distinctive and different from any other part of the puzzle. I hate the cabin. OK, I'll do it. No, I'll do it. Then she began work on the flowers which will be the most difficult part of the puzzle. What just happened here?
I am confused. Damned if I do, dammed if I don't. I returned to my suite, threw myself on my bed and burst into tears. Right! That will be the day a silly puzzle will cause me to respond that way. I am going to go take a college class in understanding indecisive women and the art of mind reading. I need it.
The main puzzle table is in the commons room. Everything was going well on a complicated puzzle with a perfectly white border on all sides. The rest of the puzzle (flowers in a vase on a cluttered table with a very busy drape in the background) was going slow, but going. One annoyed puzzler was sick and tired of the puzzle so tore it up and put it away to the dismay of those still working in it. I guess it never occurred to her that she could leave it alone or go to another room. No, she chose to antagonize many and cause trouble. That's Trouble with a capitol "T" and that rhymes with "me" and that... I have no idea where to go from there. I'll stop. The area conversation is very heated.
Meanwhile on the second floor of the main building they are working on a 2000 piece puzzle, but the table is too small. They have decided to split the puzzle and work on it on two tables. Since all our tables have round edges, I will be very difficult to ever put it together. Just imagine running with one piece between the tables. Confusing! But it has keep the number of workers to a minimum.
Now to our puzzle of three quilts hanging on a line in front of flowers, a cabin in the woods and snow capped mountains. A challenge but not impossible. I worked on the puzzle for about 20 minutes this morning alone. When one partner returned from the doctors she was very disappointed that I was working on one of the quilts (I like the easiest patterns first). It didn't matter to me so I broke up the quilt so she could do it. Wrong choice. She was even more angry. Women! Only God understands. It appeared to be resolved when I put it back together. I returned for about an hour late afternoon and finished the third quilt. No one had laid out the pieces so I dug around to find them and did it. When the same lady returned again she was angry that i had worked on "her section." You didn't leave a note. It wasn't set apart. How was I to know. You know I don't see very well and would want to do the quilts. (Sure I would, I can read minds). Sorry, I did not know you wanted to do that part. I was leaving the log cabin and lounge chairs for you, The color is distinctive and different from any other part of the puzzle. I hate the cabin. OK, I'll do it. No, I'll do it. Then she began work on the flowers which will be the most difficult part of the puzzle. What just happened here?
I am confused. Damned if I do, dammed if I don't. I returned to my suite, threw myself on my bed and burst into tears. Right! That will be the day a silly puzzle will cause me to respond that way. I am going to go take a college class in understanding indecisive women and the art of mind reading. I need it.
JEALOUSY
It is difficult for me to believe anyone would be jealous over me, but it’s true. If I told my daughter she would just laugh. In the first few years after my wife died I felt like I needed a bodyguard to protect me. I was working in a very large church with extremely tiny foyers. It has been an add-on to at least two other construction projects. My primary task as the administrator was to build the fourth add-on, a new 1200 seat auditorium. The space was very much needed.
The church had two morning services with almost no space to mingle between services. There were four ways out of the auditorium and all were very tiny. As one came out the best bet was to move on outside. However, it appeared that I was being stalked. No matter which way I left the area, the same woman was at that door to say hi and engage me in conversation. I was very much aware of the stat that most men remarried within a year after the loss of their wife. I had already met eleven of them who all through it was wonderful. They all married widows who had been alone on the average of seven years. The grieving period had been quite different. So was the adjustment. Many of the women had been grief counselors out of necessity and most resented being called by the deceased’s name.
When I told my then twenty-one year old daughter that I was being chased, she just laughed. Who would want her dad? Inconceivable! Admittedly is did sound funny, but did didn’t take long to realize that walking and breathing is a very important piece of the “becoming a hunk” puzzle. I was doing both.
It has not changed, but I handle it much differently. My upstairs neighbor took me to dinner on Saturday night for my birthday. She may have had ulterior motives, but I don’t think so or I’m more naïve than I thought. My lesbian friend argued with my neighbor that I could not go because I had to attend my grand daughters birthday party. The fact that I had accepted the engagement didn’t seem to matter. This friend is really not interested in me other than to be included in any activity that takes me off the grounds. Tow days later she questioned my choice off the menu. I ordered chicken cordon blue. I was told emphatically that it was a fish place and I should not have ordered what I did. I didn’t tell anyone what I ate. Besides it was at a small airport dinner where I assume the main this on the menu is small airplanes. It’s nowhere near the water. I wasn’t interested even in a vintage sandwich.
Another resident questioned me about the event pumping me for knowledge about who all was going to ensure she was not being left out. If so-and-so was going she wanted to go. Yes, people are anxious to get out of here at times, but it was more. A small group of women (officially called harems) attach themselves to men who still have vehicles and walk and breathe. These men are used for transportation possession rights. All deny there is any romantic interest, but the love to be close and even hug you if they think they can get away with it.
I am proud to say that I have the largest harem. I am a hunk (I think that’s the appropriate word). When the occasional meal is served, a place is always saved for me. When I am in a commons area two to four seem to magically appear. Since I go to get bread on Wednesdays, there has been a tradition of giving money to the driver to help pay for gas. Money is rarely handed directly to me. I am approached from the side or rear and money is put in my sweatshirt pocket. They want to touch me. I am hot stuff. I can’t believe how wonderful, sexy, handsome and attractive I am. My daughter would still laugh. But us sexiest men of “The Home” have our image to keep up, you know. Now don’t deflate me!
The church had two morning services with almost no space to mingle between services. There were four ways out of the auditorium and all were very tiny. As one came out the best bet was to move on outside. However, it appeared that I was being stalked. No matter which way I left the area, the same woman was at that door to say hi and engage me in conversation. I was very much aware of the stat that most men remarried within a year after the loss of their wife. I had already met eleven of them who all through it was wonderful. They all married widows who had been alone on the average of seven years. The grieving period had been quite different. So was the adjustment. Many of the women had been grief counselors out of necessity and most resented being called by the deceased’s name.
When I told my then twenty-one year old daughter that I was being chased, she just laughed. Who would want her dad? Inconceivable! Admittedly is did sound funny, but did didn’t take long to realize that walking and breathing is a very important piece of the “becoming a hunk” puzzle. I was doing both.
It has not changed, but I handle it much differently. My upstairs neighbor took me to dinner on Saturday night for my birthday. She may have had ulterior motives, but I don’t think so or I’m more naïve than I thought. My lesbian friend argued with my neighbor that I could not go because I had to attend my grand daughters birthday party. The fact that I had accepted the engagement didn’t seem to matter. This friend is really not interested in me other than to be included in any activity that takes me off the grounds. Tow days later she questioned my choice off the menu. I ordered chicken cordon blue. I was told emphatically that it was a fish place and I should not have ordered what I did. I didn’t tell anyone what I ate. Besides it was at a small airport dinner where I assume the main this on the menu is small airplanes. It’s nowhere near the water. I wasn’t interested even in a vintage sandwich.
Another resident questioned me about the event pumping me for knowledge about who all was going to ensure she was not being left out. If so-and-so was going she wanted to go. Yes, people are anxious to get out of here at times, but it was more. A small group of women (officially called harems) attach themselves to men who still have vehicles and walk and breathe. These men are used for transportation possession rights. All deny there is any romantic interest, but the love to be close and even hug you if they think they can get away with it.
I am proud to say that I have the largest harem. I am a hunk (I think that’s the appropriate word). When the occasional meal is served, a place is always saved for me. When I am in a commons area two to four seem to magically appear. Since I go to get bread on Wednesdays, there has been a tradition of giving money to the driver to help pay for gas. Money is rarely handed directly to me. I am approached from the side or rear and money is put in my sweatshirt pocket. They want to touch me. I am hot stuff. I can’t believe how wonderful, sexy, handsome and attractive I am. My daughter would still laugh. But us sexiest men of “The Home” have our image to keep up, you know. Now don’t deflate me!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
ANOTHER BIRTHDAY
I Finished a portrait I did of granddaughter #1, got it framed and headed for the birthday party in the park by the water. The way I hear it, I was the only one cold. A pile of her friends where there for the celebration and they were running around barefooted and in tank tops or t-shirts. I had on a sweatshirt and all weather coat. I wished I had my winter coat, The wind was so strong at times we were chasing paper plates, empty pop cans and napkins all across the park. I was alone on one occasion and just could not run fast enough. I found a birthday card envelop at my car when I left. I was parked a long way off.
I'm old and not nearly active enough to get warm by running around. Basically crawling around does not warm you up. My grandson wanted me to try skateboarding. Right! I am not prepared to go to the hospital with any broken bones. I did go down the kiddy slide. It was so low at ground level I could hardly stand up. OK, that's a joke. I didn't go down the slide it was too high for me, but if I had I'm sure I would have struggled to get up.
I had been trying for weeks to do a portrait of the three grand kids together, but always messed up one or more eyes or one or more of the kids. If an eye is wrong, the whole thing is wrong. I Finally gave up and did a pen and ink drawing. I usually get that better (it's easier), but I had too much ink around their eyes and they looked evil. But the colored pencil drawing is great even if I do say so myself, and I do. The eyes are right, the coloring good. Anyone who knows her would recognize it as her. A neighbor here saw the drawing right next to the photo I was using and was very impressed. I was anxious for her to see it. The invitations requested that presents not be brought. But I'm the papa. I wanted to bring a present. However, I should have taken it to her at home. What I expected would be excitement was embarrassment. Whoops. My bad (the right expression I believe)! I was thinking about me not the possible response of a first time teenager with all her friends around. You would think a former youth worker could have figured that out, but he missed it. I hope she will forgive me sometime soon. And I hope the day will come when she likes the drawing. I really is pretty good, but I said that already. Time to stop tooting my own horn. It is playing a sour note.
When I got home the weather report talked about snow in the area. SNOW! not here? It's May. I don't live in Canada any more. There may not be snow right here, but the rains are coming back and the wind is going to pick up. Time to go to bed and cuddle up in my nice warm blanket. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow, but may sleep in. Naw! Can't do that.
I'm old and not nearly active enough to get warm by running around. Basically crawling around does not warm you up. My grandson wanted me to try skateboarding. Right! I am not prepared to go to the hospital with any broken bones. I did go down the kiddy slide. It was so low at ground level I could hardly stand up. OK, that's a joke. I didn't go down the slide it was too high for me, but if I had I'm sure I would have struggled to get up.
I had been trying for weeks to do a portrait of the three grand kids together, but always messed up one or more eyes or one or more of the kids. If an eye is wrong, the whole thing is wrong. I Finally gave up and did a pen and ink drawing. I usually get that better (it's easier), but I had too much ink around their eyes and they looked evil. But the colored pencil drawing is great even if I do say so myself, and I do. The eyes are right, the coloring good. Anyone who knows her would recognize it as her. A neighbor here saw the drawing right next to the photo I was using and was very impressed. I was anxious for her to see it. The invitations requested that presents not be brought. But I'm the papa. I wanted to bring a present. However, I should have taken it to her at home. What I expected would be excitement was embarrassment. Whoops. My bad (the right expression I believe)! I was thinking about me not the possible response of a first time teenager with all her friends around. You would think a former youth worker could have figured that out, but he missed it. I hope she will forgive me sometime soon. And I hope the day will come when she likes the drawing. I really is pretty good, but I said that already. Time to stop tooting my own horn. It is playing a sour note.
When I got home the weather report talked about snow in the area. SNOW! not here? It's May. I don't live in Canada any more. There may not be snow right here, but the rains are coming back and the wind is going to pick up. Time to go to bed and cuddle up in my nice warm blanket. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow, but may sleep in. Naw! Can't do that.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
AN EMPTY TIMES SQUARE
I had been sitting in my recliner struggling to keep my eyes open when my phone rang. I have got to change the sound. I nearly jump out of my clothes when it goes off. It is very similar to an emergency vehicle siren. I chose it. It's my fault that it scares me. I just wanted to be different (regression to teen years). Gail was on the other end. There's a bomb threat in Times Square. What? What happened? What channel?
Police evacuated New York's Times Square tonight after smoke was reported coming from a dark-colored sports utility vehicle and authorities treated it as a suspected bomb. The New York Fire Department official found it to contain explosives, gasoline, propane and burned wires. The New York Times reported that it was unclear whether a package in the vehicle was a bomb. The Times reported that a federal official said the incident was not considered a terrorist threat. The Times said the vehicle was a Nissan Pathfinder parked on 45th Street just west of Seventh Avenue. Even with these reports they are saying it is not considered a terrorist threat. They are unsure if the vehicle is rigged to be a bomb. It is all just a precaution. Now they are calling it a suspected car bomb. Don't you love how breaking news is reported.
It is. It isn't. It might be. We now have confirmed information that it is. Apparently they are still unsure. An authority reports that all the ingredients for a bomb are present. Another expert reports that those materials mixed might not even work. NYPD it moving people even further back because of the bomb. No one is sure it is a bomb. All Broadway shows in the immediate area are closed. We have the star of the Broadway hit "Bombs over Tokyo" the gloriously talented and beautiful Pygmy Postelwait to give her opinion of this crisis (yes, we need that. I'm waiting with baited breath. Her opinion is important.)
Reporters now have people who saw the car smoking. Can you tell us what you saw? Yes, I saw smoke coming from a dark Japanese sports car. So you saw a dark sports car! What color was it? Dark blue, maybe dark green, It could have been black.
So you saw a dark red sports car? We have reports that it is a sports utility vehicle. No, it's a sports car. I want to know why the reporter is asking that question. It is on the screen. Turn around and look. Duh! Filler, filler, filler. I have just turned the TV on and they have been broadcasting since at least 7:00 EST. I was just leaving for dinner with Gail at that time. They still know very little, but they are filling the time with innuendo, hints, guesses, non-experts, marginal experts, experts that really know something, but know noting about this situation. Unofficial spokes-people who will not appear on TV or are not authorized to speak continue give their opinions. No group or individual has yet been accused of doing this, but they are beating around the bush about whether our middle eastern friends may have something to do with it. Breaking news. Shirley cannot get into her Times Square hotel and they will not refund her money because the bomb scare is not their fault. Are we sure of that?
Yes it is interesting, yes it is captivating, yes inquiring minds want to know. However, we have now heard 5-6 hours of speculation about very little. I admire the news people in their ability to say nothing for hours on end. They should go into politics. Wait! Hold the presses. They just reported that it might be the vehicle of a hot dog vendor. Pull back the bomb robots. Let the tourists back in the square. Get Dick Clark. Cue up the ball.
OK, that was a guess. Back to the the real lack of knowledge. They are assembling the dozens of camera footage from the area to see what they can find. Quick, get Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. She is a whizz at getting into this kind of footage and having an answer within minutes. The crew from 24 aren't bad either, but they are a team. Penelope does this by herself sitting in front of a hundred screens or so. She's amazing. Get her now!
Times Square looks strangely eerie nearly empty. I have been there, but mostly seen it on New Years Eve when pavement was never visible. It is suppose to be filled with people. This may or may not be serious. This may or may not be a bomb threat. This may or may not last all night. This may or may not keep me up. NOT! I hope it is not serious, but I am going to bed. I live in the west. We are more likely to be bombed by Korea. Can't do anything about that. China can solve all these problems when they foreclose on our country and take over.
Police evacuated New York's Times Square tonight after smoke was reported coming from a dark-colored sports utility vehicle and authorities treated it as a suspected bomb. The New York Fire Department official found it to contain explosives, gasoline, propane and burned wires. The New York Times reported that it was unclear whether a package in the vehicle was a bomb. The Times reported that a federal official said the incident was not considered a terrorist threat. The Times said the vehicle was a Nissan Pathfinder parked on 45th Street just west of Seventh Avenue. Even with these reports they are saying it is not considered a terrorist threat. They are unsure if the vehicle is rigged to be a bomb. It is all just a precaution. Now they are calling it a suspected car bomb. Don't you love how breaking news is reported.
It is. It isn't. It might be. We now have confirmed information that it is. Apparently they are still unsure. An authority reports that all the ingredients for a bomb are present. Another expert reports that those materials mixed might not even work. NYPD it moving people even further back because of the bomb. No one is sure it is a bomb. All Broadway shows in the immediate area are closed. We have the star of the Broadway hit "Bombs over Tokyo" the gloriously talented and beautiful Pygmy Postelwait to give her opinion of this crisis (yes, we need that. I'm waiting with baited breath. Her opinion is important.)
Reporters now have people who saw the car smoking. Can you tell us what you saw? Yes, I saw smoke coming from a dark Japanese sports car. So you saw a dark sports car! What color was it? Dark blue, maybe dark green, It could have been black.
So you saw a dark red sports car? We have reports that it is a sports utility vehicle. No, it's a sports car. I want to know why the reporter is asking that question. It is on the screen. Turn around and look. Duh! Filler, filler, filler. I have just turned the TV on and they have been broadcasting since at least 7:00 EST. I was just leaving for dinner with Gail at that time. They still know very little, but they are filling the time with innuendo, hints, guesses, non-experts, marginal experts, experts that really know something, but know noting about this situation. Unofficial spokes-people who will not appear on TV or are not authorized to speak continue give their opinions. No group or individual has yet been accused of doing this, but they are beating around the bush about whether our middle eastern friends may have something to do with it. Breaking news. Shirley cannot get into her Times Square hotel and they will not refund her money because the bomb scare is not their fault. Are we sure of that?
Yes it is interesting, yes it is captivating, yes inquiring minds want to know. However, we have now heard 5-6 hours of speculation about very little. I admire the news people in their ability to say nothing for hours on end. They should go into politics. Wait! Hold the presses. They just reported that it might be the vehicle of a hot dog vendor. Pull back the bomb robots. Let the tourists back in the square. Get Dick Clark. Cue up the ball.
OK, that was a guess. Back to the the real lack of knowledge. They are assembling the dozens of camera footage from the area to see what they can find. Quick, get Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. She is a whizz at getting into this kind of footage and having an answer within minutes. The crew from 24 aren't bad either, but they are a team. Penelope does this by herself sitting in front of a hundred screens or so. She's amazing. Get her now!
Times Square looks strangely eerie nearly empty. I have been there, but mostly seen it on New Years Eve when pavement was never visible. It is suppose to be filled with people. This may or may not be serious. This may or may not be a bomb threat. This may or may not last all night. This may or may not keep me up. NOT! I hope it is not serious, but I am going to bed. I live in the west. We are more likely to be bombed by Korea. Can't do anything about that. China can solve all these problems when they foreclose on our country and take over.
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