there is a handful of humans who think i have it too easy. they believe that the world just opens up before me and provides me undue rewards and riches. these boons come in all sorts of sizes and looks. my assumption has always been that everyone gets these sorts of things. they can be as big as scoring the mother i did and as small as getting the good table by the window. those that don't know me...

like many neighborhoods, ours is tied into a community website. i don't follow it myself, but bella keeps an eye on it in case people ask about house or dog sitting jobs. the other day she sent me this a post someone in the neighborhood made.


gotta say, if more of the neighborhood updates were this entertaining i might actually look in from time to time. and i think it would have been a little better and smarter if he had done the legwork first of finding out who this person was, exacted his revenge, and then made this post. this fellow doesn't seem like he'd be shy about sharing the name of the thoughtless ass-hat. my fear here is that he's giving the person a heads up that he'll be watching now and may have spoiled his chance of catching him/her (and i do hope he catches him/her). although, there's a decent chance the person is like me and doesn't read the site so there's a bit of hope.

another thing. how new are all of these approaches to pet-care and did something specifically usher them in? i mean, when exactly did people start picking up after their dogs. and crating dogs, when the heck did that start? i don't remember any of this when i was a kid. dogs slept all over the house and shit all over town. let's be clear, now that i own a home, i'm glad grown people tend to their creatures almost like they were children. but i do feel bad that dogs can't sleep at the foot of the owner's beds warming their feet on cold nights. i have warm memories of our family-dogs snuggling into me for warmth and comfort on those cold colorado nights. and when i hear people defend the crate-business, it sounds mildly akin to the explanations made for giving young kids phones/ipads--they make it sound like it is for the dog's/kid's benefit but in the end they, the owner/parent, seem to be the main beneficiary. i mean dog houses have been around super-forever, and dogs used them, i get that. the difference between a dog house and a crate is one doesn't have a jail door on the front.

and before you have any chastising thoughts and say well, of course, people have always picked up after their dogs and crated their dogs. to that, i would first say that, well, that is most definitely not the case that people have ALWAYS been doing those things and that the uber-practice had to start sometime and i think that time has been since i was a kid. and secondly, i saw a new/next level of first-world pet-care at target the other day. and that discovery may have marked the precise moment i became a sour old man. at the end of an aisle stood a large, glass-paned, interior-lit fridge that held PET-food. prominently, or rather loudly, displayed as it was, it looked like it contained the cure to pimples, old-age and herpes all in one convenient spot. but it did not hold the cures to all human ills. it held chilled food for peoples' animals. the furrows in my brow surely grew deeper at that moment as i stared at those privelege-lined shelves. i don't remember exactly what i muttered under my breath, but i promise you it was not fit to share.

all of this said, there has been many i time when i had pets, i'd pour another scoop from a giant bag of food into my pet's bowl and thought, sucks to be you bud, as i would hate if i had to eat the same thing everyday. the saving grace--i knew my pet, like many american pets, would have his dish peppered with table scraps later in the evening which he would quakingly engulf at the end of each day and digest while curled up against my back or on my feet as we warmed each other literally and emotionally through the night.

a few of the hand-crafted flyers bella made last night which she plans to hang up on poles and in bathrooms around our community on her day off school today. my memory might not be what it once was but i'm pretty sure i never spent a day off school making and posting signs in hopes of raising people's self-esteem.

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a while back i wrote of gardener bob. since i last spoke of him the hedges rimming his lawn have grown so tall it's hard to see him when he's lost in his ballet, methodically turning his soil and tending his plants. and his shrubs aren't the only thing that have been growing, he himself has become more irascible, so much so that i decided to stop feigning our neighborly dance given his ongoing lac...

for those who asked about girl fighting park (circa yesterday's post). first, you should keep your freakish desires a little closer to your chest. second, i could explain, but i'm certain your depraved imagination can do better than my truth. so let those gelatinous cerebellums dance away divining whatever you wish to divine from a place known as girl fighting park.

twice a year the people in my neighborhood have a parade and picnic. the two anointed dates are fourth of july and halloween. the parade caters to the kids and the picnic to the adults. now the parade isn't exactly what one typically thinks of when they think parade. ours is unique in the sense that everyone, yes everyone, participates in the parade. participation entails walking with all the others through the streets of our neighborhood, starting and ending at the same point. the main oddity is that since everyone involved is actually walking in the parade, there isn't really anyone left to watch the spectacle. of course a few people, a scant few merciful people, sit in front of their homes in lawn chairs, drinking lemonade and cheering us on as we go by. but, truth told the wavers are outnumbered about fifty to one.


the parade troop is comprised of a comprehensive mix. first a fire engine rolls slowly occasionally blasting its horn and swirling the sirens. directly behind this red engine which has the words "let's roll" emblazoned on the side comes our own local marching band where one instrument is a garden hose with a funnel on the end, painted silver. this ambitious group gathers at eight in the morning and practice yankee doodle dandy until show time. the kids ride in or on decorated bikes, scooters and strollers. everyone else walks. and talks. and points and laughs as they see how sophie is dressed or how much alex is sweating. a police car trails the collective crawling at the pace of the slowest tricycle attempting to keep an appropriate and unobtrusive distance behind. i'm not sure if this is to keep us in control or to protect us from outsiders who may see the crazed ritual and take action against us given our obvious imbalance. either way there is a cop car at the rear.


marty and i have lived in the neighborhood almost three years but this is the first year we have been in town for the july parade. we've already deemed all future outings as mandatory. my favorite moment of the day happened as marty and bella approached where i was sitting taking pictures of the scene, bella spotted me and yelled as loud as her tiny vocal cords could stretch "my mommy! MY mommie! MY MOMMIE" and elatedly stretched her arm towards me.