It's A Beautiful Day

....in the neighborhood. Or at least it was.

I nitially planned on writing this after I came back from my run. But the run bruised my body more than I expected. I was still proud of my shape, round as it might be. But once I walked through the door, my body seemed to respond with relief and released whatever fury it had held back. I felt like I lost five pounds in the shower, just by eliminating the grime that accumulated after running it unexpectedly humid weather. The Gatorade was finished in a matter of seconds.

Today was probably the best day that I have gone running. The sun wasn't too hot. Nothing was off base. At times I felt as if I was starring in my own Nike commercial, proud of my form. Oh but my fellow pedestrians were kind of annoying. This isn't even a big town so I thought people would be more friendly like they are in the town where I went to school. Even though they're racist, they still gave me a smile and a nod. These guys got out the way like I had the plague. Maybe the black guy running so hard, and seemingly with purpose set something off for them. You would think it was a real city.

But as I walked home after purchasing my replenishing liquids, I heard a child over my iPod. As I looked to my left there was a little girl who had spotted me far down the block and was saying hi. I initially was tempted to walk past. No need alarming mom about the random guy walking. But she kept saying it and looking at me. So I waved back and said hi. And she kept saying it. I waved again. And she said it again. This time I smiled and said bye and continued walking. A child shall lead them huh?

And kindness usually comes from the most unexpected places. Though the neighbors across the street are kind of eccentric, they've always been nice. Though aloof at times - like when he has full on conversatios with his bird - he has been considerate and generous. He alerted us to suspicious picture takers, signed for a package when we were all away, and even helped them move in a couch. But I guess lately he's been getting weird and his next door neighbor dropped off some material with Uno after she went snooping. Seems our buddy has some things on his record, most traffic violations and a little theft. His most regular friend is also a sex offender. But both of their crimes were either when they were adolescents or really young adults. If they really wanted to take stuff they could have done it already. And they've been nothing but nice.

So if you're looking for evidence that the human condition isn't completely helpless, I guess we need to look to children and ex-convicts more often

This Morning

Our top story this morning is the appearance of a stray black dog on the porch this morning. As I was reading my book, I heard my roommate leave for her appoinment with the doctor. After her initial footsteps were gone, I heard some lesser footsteps. I assumed that it was just the particular way the wind was whistling through the trees and returned to my reading. But the glint of something moving caught my eye above the book, and there was a new stranger. He walked the length of the porch and came towards me. He stared me dead on, moved slightly towards me, then turned and went. He then went round the corner and was gone. I was so baffled by the chain of events, I stayed glued to my seat. I tried to resume reading, but needed to rise to make sure what I had viewed was not an illusion. I rose and rushed to see if I could catch at least a glimpse of the dog. Imagine my surprise when I saw nothing!

But he emerged from behind a neighbor's bush and normal breathing returned to my system. As homeostasis returned, my paranoia still did not relent. I thought somehow I viewed it as a sign. Should I get a dog like that? Does a black dog predict something more omnous? Sleep deprivation makes one silly. Maybe divine providence was guiding me along the path in some way.

So as I was talking to Doodlebug, my newest friend six hours away in a country where the young are so mighty they beat Brazil in football matches, I was searching for any symbolism regarding black dogs. Churchill once referred to his own depression as his "black dog." It also was a hit for Led Zeppelin in the early 70s. The Wikipedia article alleges that either the sexually suggestive anthem was titled for a loitering black dog in the studio or might be more of a secretive invocation to a divine being due to its similarities with a novel's name for a club of occult.

Yeah I'm starting to lose interest too, though I was feeling kind of spiritual at that moment. In my second trip to the porch once Doodlebug was kicked out, I viewed my neighbors playing catch in the street. They are in their mid 30s - early 40s yet in the middle of the day, they were in the middle of the street playing catch. While I admire the carefree attitude and playfulness at such an age, their regular dallaince with permanent transience is troubling. If I can somehow stack some paper so I can support my whims and fancies, that would be lovely. But I suppose I will hustle as hard as I have to so my wife and children can everything they need and lead the life I wish to have. If I can't live it for myself, at least I can live it through my family.

Okay I need to write my e-mail. I missed writing on this thing so I dropped something super quick.

Lord Don't Let It

Now that the sun is actually giving us natural heat on a regular basis, my neighbors have started to show their faces. The Hispanic family to our left has been working non-stop to make their dwelling as presentable as possible for the prospective buyers they intend to woo.

But across the street lives a man who is believed to have lost his driver's license and lives with his grandmother. This theory is not eliminated when you perceive this individual. Never seen him not in a sweat suit. Usually smoking. Dirty hobo hair grooming tricks.

Anyway, dude just came out of his house with a buddy I've never seen (same middle aged looking white pasty man with too long and greasy hair held down by a painter's cap). They look like extras in Clerks III. Or they might hang out with Napolean Dynamite's uncle. That's not the kicker. Are they not now in the middle of the street with one of those Nerf footballs that whistles when you throw it right? Are they not having the time of their life?

As I amble around the house in idle waiting, I don't ever want to end up like that. So the first step in my feigned production is this blog. The transient lifestyle is not for me