Random Thoughts: the garbage man (true story)

Random Thoughts: the garbage man (true story)

 

The other day I was pulling out of my development, when I saw a normal sight to most of us. Something that often goes undetected, it was the garbage man. He was on my side of the street getting ready to pull over to his side. He just picked up my neighbors trash and was heading to the next can. As we passed I threw up my hand and both the driver and the man hanging off of the back of the truck waved at me. They did not nod or give a little wave like motorcyclist do when they meet on the road. They both put up their hands and smiled, very vigorously I might add. They seemed to be so happy just to be noticed.

 

I’m a talkative friendly person and the older I get the more outgoing I become. I tip the mailman at Christmas and he seems to be very grateful for that, but when I wave at him I barely get a nod. I wave at my neighbors that are strangers and they either just barely put their hands up or don’t acknowledge me at all. I wave at my immediate neighbors and people that work at the marina and they barely do the same as my stranger neighbors. I admit sometimes people might not see me for whatever reason or their minds are on more pressing issues.

 

I have one friend that works at the marina and he goes out of his way to say hi to me, even yell it across the empty or busy compound. I’m sure he has no idea how grateful I am for that. To know people with a nice humble outgoing nature is one of the great pleasures in life. I could be wrong, but it seems to me that the more a person has the less sociable is the standard. Some people might think low of the garbage man, they work doing a job that most of us wouldn’t consider doing. They do it with a smile, while paying their bills.

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Some of my carpentry work in the kitchen of a log cabin. 2012

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Your three words, my little story: Nora’s words (true story)

Your three words, my little story
Nora’s words: opsimath, hypermnesia & malapropism (true story)

 

Four good friends wanted to quit smoking, so they decided to try hypnosis. Jim and Raymond haven’t smoked since, but Bruce and Christina smoked before they got to their cars.

 

When Jim quit, he gained interest in other areas. He became an OPSIMATH person. However, he wouldn’t have known what that meant, except when he got hypnotized he got HYPERMNESIA. Hypermnesia is the opposite of amnesia, which means he remembers things he normally wouldn’t.

 

He majored in English and learned enough to get by but, he still had problems with MALAPROPISM. Sometimes he used a word, that sounded correct for the sentence, but wasn’t close. He needs to learn a lot more but, as of yet, he hasn’t given up.

Past, present & plans: 8-30 -16

Past, present & plans 8-30 -16

 

Past

 

Dad rented a small garden area from the Morgan’s, just outside from the suburbs of Lanham, Maryland. Whenever us kids heard we were going to the Morgan’s, we didn’t know if we were in for a good ole country cookout and games or to work in the garden.

 

This one particular day it was just me and dad going and I figured we were going to work in the dirt. Once we were there, I was given a huge surprise. A tractor.

 

My first driving experience was on an old Allis-Chalmers tractor. I was sitting on dads lap, while he controlled the peddles. He probably controlled the steering too. I was so proud to be his son.

 

I think dad paid for our garden spot, by plowing and disking the fields. He might have drank a lot, but he sure did work.

 

Present

 

I went to a local Senior Center to get help from the state with my energy bill. While I was there I was given a tour of the place. I was very impressed with the cleanliness and all the activities offered, so I joined free of charge.

 

Pool tables, gym equipment, dining hall and many more. The ones I just mentioned are free as a member.

 

Plans

 

Thursday I’m going to help my buddy work on his autobiography, but before that he wants to join the Senior Center.

Your three words, my little story: Gary’s 2nd set

Your three words, my little story
Gary’s 2nd set: consanguineous, misogynistic and deciduous.

 

All the DECIDUOUS flora will be in hibernation later in the month. That’s one of the reasons why the organizers, thought the colorful fall would be a good time for the reunion. It’s refreshing, picturesque and a bargain to rent the park out in the off season.

 

Most of the family didn’t believe that Jim was MISOGYNISTIC like the rest of the men in their CONSANGUINEOUS family tree. However, Jim, Ernie and Carolyn knew different. Ernie was proud to have a cousin with that many notches on his belt, while Carolyn knew Jim’s morals had changed when he got sober.

 

Parts of Jim missed having a different woman every week, sometimes every night. Then he looks at family and friends, that are growing old and grey together, with their first and only love. Something he never had was a history with that special someone. He often thinks that life would have outweighed all those happy endings.

How ya like my hat? Sombrero

How ya like my hat? Sombrero

 

I finally made it to the motel after a three hour hiatus, caused by not one, but two flat tires.

 

Even though the road was lined on both sides by a mix of pine, spruce, maple and oak, the sun still found its way to my bald spot. It was a scorching, blistering and unrelenting heat and I had no protection for my head at all.

 

Not only was the sun playing havoc on my head, I only had one spare. I already put it on the right rear and moved to the front. I was in the process of taking the right front off, when I noticed a guy standing over me blocking the sun. I said, “Thank God.”

 

“No. I’m Steve.” The guy said with a grin.

 

“Thank you for blocking the sun. Do you have a 275/60R15 tire?”

 

He felt his chest, his front pockets, then his back pockets and said, “No, but I do have a hat for that burnt spot on your head.”

 

“I’ll take it. Can I get a ride to the nearest service station?”

 

“Sure.” I put both flats in the back of his truck and off we went.

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Just messin, paid a dollar for it at a local thrift store.