Don't think of them as stars

 but tiny air holes in the lid.

Under Construction

 Pardon the extended absence,  Computer issues have been resolved.

Thoughts from the edge

 

There are some aspects of my life that only take place at the edge of the page.  The problem with that is that I can’t see what is happening in the center.  It feels, at times, that someone is out there changing the rules, and by the time the information gets out to the edge - all I get  to hear is the recording, “I’m sorry, our office is currently closed.  Please call back during normal business hours.”

It seems the rules should state that you put that kind of information at the beginning of the recording, and not after you’ve just had someone spend 12 minutes going through the push one for English, press 2 if you want Accounting, press 3 if you’re making changes to your swimming stroke, and 4 if you received a fine for cleaning your fish on the picnic table.

There’s a reason you are experiencing higher than normal call volumes.  You stink at Customer Service.  But that isn’t what I want to talk about.  But wait, before we leave the topic of Customer Service, would someone please explain to me why everyone in India is named Bruce, or Jill?  You’re really not fooling anyone.

Okay, getting back to my perspective from the edge of the page.  For one thing – it is quiet out here.  I don’t mind the quiet, in fact, it’s kind of nice.  And not being the main character takes all the pressure off.  There is never a need to worry if the paragraph has been properly indented, or if some plot twist suddenly throws in a fish on a picnic table.  Not my problem.

The scary part is that being out at the edge like this, it isn’t going to take much to push me over.  I mean, if I haven’t the old values to hang onto, if someone keeps changing the rules, then what am I to cling too?  The “Norm” has disappeared.  Youth and technology have taken the lead, but without anyone steering the ship. 

I’m just saying, the sign clearly states; Don’t clean your fish on the picnic table.  Reason and common sense tell you there will be consequences.  And even ignoring the consequence of a fine, think about the poor Indian family.. Bob and his wife Mary pile the kids in the car for a nice day at the lake, only to discover flies and fish guts under the nice tablecloth they’ve spread out. 

See what I did there?  I didn’t have them discover the flies and fish guts as they walked up to the table, but I had them spread out their nice tablecloth over the files and fish guts.  That’s what I mean by – changing the rules.  It’s unsettling.  It is wrong.  But that is what I am seeing out here at the edge.

Was the uniformed officer color blind?

 Working backwards...

The detective noticed a crushed-out cigarette in the ashtray.

From the lipstick residue he assumed the smoker had been female.

The amount of cigarette left unburned suggested the smoker had been in a hurry to leave.

The dark shade of lipstick, as well as the brand of cigarette told him she was a tall, brunette, had expensive taste and liked to dress well.

He noticed that the uniformed officer making the chalk outline around the body had somehow put on mismatched socks this morning.  The sock on the man’s left foot was obviously not regulation.

The detective would have to include this in his report, even though he knew the uniformed officer would be written up for the infraction.

The body on the floor was that of a tall, well-dressed brunette.
She seemed to match the detective's previous assumptions. 

On the last page of the detective's report he noted that even though there were No Smoking signs in every room of the museum, there were also pedestal ashtrays for the convenience of the patrons.   He found this to be odd, and was concerned that it sent a mixed message.

It was the detective's partner who was presently questioning the young woman who was standing over the body with the smoking gun.  He knew they would compare notes later.  He didn't want to just assume that she was somehow involved.

Things not listed in the brochure

 

There comes a certain insignificance with old age,

No longer the target of Madison Avenue,

Driving a car only accentuates how much we are in the way

Tropical destinations evolved into the closest hostess stand to your house,

Hobbies give way to the search for a decent doctor,

Priorities are adjusted according to restroom locations,

Menus are studied, instead of racing forms,

Memories of childhood become enhanced,

Fighting for what is right becomes someone else’s job,

We forget why we started this list…

 

I'm thinking.

My Fate - it changed.

 

I never thought I’d find myself in a Petri dish with some giant eyeball peering down at me through a microscope.  I’ve become the subject.  Me.   Which is odd if you think about it.  I mean, I have no culture to speak of.  I know which fork to use if there aren’t too many.   As I live for the moment, it’s always the dessert fork.