| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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the post office is 6 city blocks west, heading uphill (steeply for the first block, then a gentle incline for the rest) against a 30mph headwind. i really go for broke so i can make it there and get my stamps before the next bus comes. i make it all 6 blocks - up to taylor st. - without stopping or being particualarly winded. the post office is actually a satellite office attached to the federal building. the doors have stairs in front of them and i have to make a long trip around to get to them. when i get there, they're locked. i notice a sign that says, "enter at federal building." so i head into the foyer of the federal building. i have to go through a metal detector before they let me in. i've go all sorts of stuff - keys, a clip watch, books, mail, wallet, antacids, lip balm, bus pass, etc. tucked away in various places that i'm desperately (i wondered if i didn't look too desperate) trying to fish out and put into the little basket so i will pass the inspection. i think they just got tired of me and let me through. i get to the post office and crash into the doors - they're locked. a woman who is nearby says they'll be back in a few minutes. while getting a drink of water, i noticed a sign saying "closed for lung 12:00 - 1:00." i can't wait till 1pm, but i decide to wait a little while longer until i have to go out to the bus station across the street from the federal building - the no.7 goes past the federal building. the post office opens at 12:30. a few more people have congregated since then, but they let me go first - i guess because i looked so desperate. i bought my book of stamps and raced out. i waited at the bus stop for about ten minutes before the bus came. i could never have done all that when i was in my 20s - couldn't even have conceived of it. at 40 - living downtown and taking the bus - i get more exercise now than i ever have. sometimes i feel like i'm falling apart, but sometimes i notice that i'm probably healthier now than i've ever been. went to the shop where i work sporadically. the boss's dog, a jack russell terrier named stella, was there that day (as she often is - the store is named after her). the dog threw up 4 times in the course of the day. a new employee named hannah - a 20 year-old college student - was working that day. when she asked me how old i was, and i told her "41", she seemed genuinely surprised and said, "you don't look it!" so that made me feel a little less like i'm dying old man. i got a call from my mother while at work. she had just gotten back to fort worth after a week-long road trip to marfa, texas. some of you may know this town as where the most desolate scenes in 'no country for old men' were filmed - it's been favorite vacation spot for some members of my family for years because of the museums, the art community, the "marfa lights", the observatory, etc. it's really a cool place in it's desolate sort of way. we go to a seafood restaurant and order wine and po' boys - i had mine with crawfish tails, she had the catfish. she told me about going to visit a museum there called ballroom marfa. they walked into the building, thought it was under construction or something, and walked out again. they asked somebody what was going on, and they were told it was actually an art exhibit called "hello meth lab in the sun." they went back to check it out. it was a painstakingly recreated meth-lab house including all the paraphenalia, stains, burn marks, smells, filth, etc - apparently all as disgusting as a real meth lab. now i feel like road-tripping to marfa. |
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what does a meth lab smell like? |
I feel compelled to use this thread to report that my dad died last month. There you have it. |
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Dr. Pepper, I was starting to grow more sympathetic towards you, but that's over now. |
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agatha - i am sorry. |
so this was the appropriate thread to pick. i'm sorry for your loss. |
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agatha, i'm really sorry to hear about your dad. and i'm sorry to hear you've been having a hard time lately in general. and, whenever you're up for it, if you feel like talking about your dad, i'd enjoy hearing about what he was like. if not, that's cool too. i hope things improve soon. i'll be thinking good thoughts for you and the fam. |
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mark, thanks for maintaining these boards. really appreciate it. |
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burping bastard. |
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agatha..be well. |
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Thanks to everyone for your kind words. Pepper, I forgive, although I still have no idea what goes on in your head at pretty much any point in time. |
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i frequently tell her about her time with them, and also things i did with them and its as if she knows them, they are just as real to her as any other friend or family member she sees frequently. |
I didn't really get to interact with my father's parents much before they died, but I love hearing him talk about them. They were really interesting people, and he had a very conflicted relationship with them, but I feel like that makes them more human, for me. I hope that you have some interesting papers/photos/mementos for Cleo to look through, because those really make my grandparents come alive in my mind, even though I didn't know them well in life. |