Concrete Images

I went out today looking for one thing, turtles, but they'd hidden somewhere in the creek bed. However, I did find children's chalk drawings on a sidewalk and a brand new hole in the ground that I just had to inspect. The drawings tell me there's a kid in the area with some talent while the hole revealed the textures left behind by the backhoe and the sand dumped in to cover the gas valve that had been replaced.


There were two people making art today: the kid with the chalk, and a man who scribed textures into  the cement with his backhoe.  

Hard Rockers

Last Saturday, I met a friend for breakfast at a nearby chain restaurant. We'd earlier dismissed others in their turn - "that's crappy," "that sucks" and just plain "yuch." We didn't want "Mickey D's" or the area "MediCare Lounge." 

While the only other choice was itself not a site for cuisine, it was something we could agree on. We both love tchotchkes (not to buy so much as to look at) and the restaurant has an ersatz "old country store" crammed full of little toys, decorative items, clothing and my favorite candies, "King Leo" peppermint sticks. One of my purchases years ago was a stuffed plush opossum with a naked pink tail and little ears. It grossed me out so much I loved it. I took it to the boat where it was put on a shelf, its tail draped artfully over our bed's headboard. 

One of the store's trademark items are the rocking chairs shown in the top picture. They can be had painted in one's school colors, or with a design scheme to honor the various military branches. In the evenings around dinner time, people will sit in the chairs, visiting, waiting to meet friends and family for dinner. As you can see, the rockers are linked together with steel cable to prevent theft. So, if you and your family want to rock, you'd better do it in unison.

All chime in and

Rock on, baby!

\

So Blue, So Cool

The combination of heat and humidity today made today's temperature feel like 115 degrees. I went to the pool, stepped off the side into the water and was enveloped by its blue coolness. I try to make it my rule that, once I am in the water, I do not stop moving or touch the sides or bottom. This might make me the Michael Phelps of treading water, but with so many other people around it's hard to swim lengths. I swam, treaded water and watched the trees undulate in the breeze for an hour while about a dozen teenagers laughed. splashed and ran around nearby. Either way, we all enjoyed ourselves, irrespective of the heat.

On the other hand...

Help meee!! Pleeez! I want to go home! 

Lazy Sunday

Ah, yes, it's humid, hot and I can hear the sounds of chatter in the distance that can only mean that a softball game is in progress. The metallic *PING!* of the aluminum bat against the fluorescent green hide of the ball confirms it. From the presence of men wearing various colors of T-shirts, it seems that a small church league tournament was being played. 

Both of the park's diamonds were in use and there was a healthy smattering of wives in attendance, cheering on their men. The spectators sat on bleachers or camp chairs shaded by trees. The man in the top picture had stopped with his little boys to watch from a left field bench, taking a break from their bicycle ride around the neighborhood. 

There wasn't a scoreboard in sight but while the game was informal, you could tell from the postures of some of the players, long-remembered habits and drills learned as school boys were being lived out;  in their approach to the plate for their turn at bat, the way they trotted around the bases, how they scooped up a ball and threw it to a baseman, it all came back to them for the afternoon. And for a while, in the hot summer sun they were living their dream. 

                                         

You Make Me So Happy

When your birthday comes I'm gonna go buy you a truckload of smiles.
And a tubful of sunlit pink kisses.

Are You Ready for Some ...

Oh, never mind.

There seems to be rampant opportunity here for a number of wordplays ... and as each day passes that the owners of a certain group of teams (eleven men to a side) can't reach agreement with their employees (said men), it seems as though wordplay is all we're going to get. 

Can you say impasse?

It's possible we're not going to get our winter ritual of watching groups of rather largish men, made to appear even larger by their use of armor, as they in turn throw, carry and chase a brown turd-shaped missle up and down the field.

Could we assess a delay of game penalty?

Is there a "Fantasy Lock-Out" game available to those fans who would otherwise have chosen up their teams, allowing them to bet on theoretical scenarios? The winner would be the man who comes closest to the actual outcome of the negotiations. No matter which side is chosen, owners or players, the only losers will be the fans who pay for the tickets, buy the flat screen TVs, the replica jerseys for their kids (at least, that's their story), 

et cetera. 

Add to that the  ticket takers, the hot dog vendors, 

the sellers of over-priced beer, the people who clean up the mess afterwards, and you have a lot of people who're gonna lose out because a bunch of wealthy men want to remain, and become, even more wealthy.

Isn't that an offensive foul?

The biggest building on the Indianapolis skyline is not a factory, hospital or office building. It is a stadium built largely with tax revenue from the citizens of Indiana and the convention-goers who visit us. 

The aforementioned wealthy men have little or no stake 

in the success of that building. They could care less.

How about unsportsmanlike conduct?

Oh, yeah, this is supposed to be Speedway Daily Photo. The above picture is of the other end of the strip mall I showed a couple weeks ago in another post. The top picture, of an athletic shoe display, was taken outside a shoe store just down the way a bit.

Let's just say I was a mite offside.

It's A Plot!

My neighbors ought to know better. 

They would fight any sort of addictive substance in their area, 

so why do they insist upon planting plots of color where I can see it?

Don't they know they run the risk of finding me rolling in ecstasy in their yards, the shutter of my camera going off uncontrollably?

Oh, the red! Oh, the purple!

Oh, the green and yellow! Do it to me again! 

Color, color, color! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Sigh ... I'm done now.

Want a turkey sandwich?