Got a car, got nowhere to go
My age is showing. I have the car for the evening, and all I can think about is getting the winter tires installed. Of course, my lack of anything resembling an appointment means that I will not be among the entitled, this evening. Plan B means that I’ll be sitting in the garage very early on Saturday next, admiring the display of mag wheels, trim kits and stereos for cars that need MORE VOLUME. At least I’m not apt to spend any money in their shop.
My spouse is off to the big city, by train for a change. I didn’t stay for the departure scene, given the “rush hour” schedule, but I’ll be there with bells on tomorrow evening. I wish I could take the train for a change. It’s certainly more romantic than a jaunt on a crowded city bus, where seats are always just one person away from full to overflow. I know, I should feel fortunate to even have public transit in a world where so many walk barefoot, but I do pay for the privilege. Yesterday, while “refilling” my transit card, I couldn’t help noticing that the monthly pass fee has jumped from $53 to $71.55 in ten years, with no change in my day-to-day.
Evening TV has been derailed for another evening, since the boys of September now actually play off in October. I’m not particularly interested by baseball on TV; no hot dogs, no peanuts, no crowd to amuse during those dull as dirt moments waiting for the pitcher to do something other than scratch.
