Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Slice 'n Dice Day

I dropped Mrs. G off for her eyeball job at 10 to 7 this morning. She is having cataract surgery in her left eye.

Please pump good wishes at her. Thank you.

Guilty pleasures dept.:

I'm hardly ever out that early in the morning. No reason to be. So I figured that since I've been busting what's left of my ass clearing snow to dig us in, then same-same to dig us out, and it's gonna be more of the same since it's snowing now and it's supposed to snow for the next week, and since I was already out and about, I might as well treat myself, so I went and did something I haven't done in a coupla years. I actually had pre-planned this and bummed the cash off Mrs. G before we left the house.

I went to Mickey D's and had a Big McStarchbombBreakfast. Quite filling, no worse than I remember it.

The joint was pretty empty. I knew about what I wanted, but I couldn't see it up on the menu. Three different people tried to rotate the menu to "morning" and the dinner picture kept falling out. Two men failed to accomplish the mission. Finally, the counter girl yanked the thing out by its roots and rotated the menu so gramps here could see the shit he wanted.

They were playing 'old people music', which I liked. Elvis, Everly Brothers, Motown, British Invasion. I was probably the only person in there (I actually was the only person in there. On my side of the counter anyway.) who knew the words to all the songs. I put on a semi-deranged look and thanked them for the Vietnam era memories on the way out. Heh. It went right over their young heads.

There's no smoking in Mrs. G's truck, so I finished my McCaffeine outside and burned one. Snowing, no plows working close by, hardly any traffic. Absolutely small-town peaceful and beautiful. A rare sight for me and a moment that won't last long, but then none of them do.

It was a nice way to start the day.

Update:

Mrs. G is home now and everything is fine. Thank you all for the good thoughts.

More small town shit:

At 9 AM I got the call that my rig was ready to be picked up Mrs. G was ready to come home. I got to the ambulatory surgery center and things took a turn for the truly weird and wonderful. The gal who was looking after Mrs. G turned out to be the old girlfriend of a friend of mine who died in an auto accident about 23 years ago. He was a mechanic, a SAAB specialist of all things. Anyway, we hadn't seen one another in all that time, but she recognized me (a face for the ages?) and caught me up on his daughters' lives, whom I remembered as little girls and who now have kids of their own of course, and her own life since. Mrs. G was still getting unwoozy enough to walk so we chatted for maybe 20 minutes or so about all kinds of things, like how I caused the road out to her rural-even-for-around-here neighborhood to get paved*. Thanks for the memories, Susie.

*I worked for the Census in 2000. Susie's neighbors told me to make damn sure they all got counted because they wanted the three miles of dirt road to Russell Valley** to be paved so they didn't have to snowmobile their kids out to Hobart Mills to catch the school bus any more. The road is now paved, the school bus comes, and I modestly claim credit.

**Best I could do. I don't think that's Susie's house. Heh.

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