Of Glasses, Old Men & Sisters (post-post)

So in the header for my blog here I do my best to give you an idea of what to expect if you decide to do some rummaging around some strange man’s attic or scream, after such, for help to anyone who might be listening on the front path three stories below to get you out of the shackles and chains (though, good luck with that – these are new double paned storm windows).

I mean, no site worth its salt doesn’t give you some sort of idea as to who or what is behind it and what to expect of its content right? Even if it’s just a pithy slogan.

News sites are good for that.

Washington Post – “Democracy Dies In Darkness” … or at the end of a slinking, weak willed, million dollar pen for an inauguration fund.

“Fair and Balanced / Most Watched, Most Trusted” … always with the jokes and works in progress for them there folks over at Fox “News” huh?

Voice of America “… choke … gasp … Kari … suicidal thoughts … reels … choke … the devil’s handmaiden … Lake …” Ok, that one’s a little lengthy and ungainly.

“This is CNN” … boring and noncommittal has its place I guess.

MSNBC “Lean Forward” … but not too far, leaning forwards or backwards, either way, can be a concern especially when dependent on the winds.

One America News Network … “The Wheels On The Bus.”

Breitbart … “Fuck You Democracy”

And others …

White House News (Propaganda-R-Us) and Travel Agency … “So Many Possibilities” … (that one can change on the fly though, depending on the legality or Karoline’s light ultra or meta ultra condescending mood).

But mine simply lays out for you to just expect things written of my everyday “sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don’t like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that’s just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or story-etic or something like that.”

Well, I have covered almost all of this ground recently, a funny one of a cat named Arthur and a one of just bits and pieces, a few things for Mom (so miss ya my dearest friend … and this one) a couple of new parody tunes and re-posts of older ones, and quite a few poems (poems) and short fictions (short fictions) too.

But the important thing of note here is that I’ve been able to come about all of these pieces while wearing the right pair of glasses, my “close” glasses.

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Lilly the Car has been making some unwelcome sounds lately, like she’s carrying a bucket of steel stones under her belly, which, truthfully, she has probably been sounding alarm of for quite a while now, cries for help, I just haven’t heard them from listening to my damned heavy metal return to old school volume Deep Purple for open windows in nice weather. That rumble of Ritchie Blackmore and the boys might have even contributed to it.

But when I finally turned the volume down I realized, shit, there might be an issue here. My apologies Lilly, you and my mother could surely commiserate on Steve, still, after all these years, never listening to those pleas to please turn that crap down.

So, I inquired of a shop, which was a concern of mine since moving up this way. Could I find a place like Lou’s (from many years down in Beacon) that I could trust? Well Beck (my Sis if you didn’t already know) via my nephew and his gear head friends, recommended a place called Hari’s that I immediately liked it as I couldn’t find it under “Harry’s” with any search. Nope, I just liked it.

Then I asked Beck if she could follow me to drop Lilly off and then give me a ride the rest of the way to my day. Her commute mirrors mine, or can mirror mine in times like this as she works just around the corner.

And that was it, thanks Beck with a wave. But when I went inside to my desk, started the process of a day, I realized that things were a bit fuzzy.

First thought? Oh, son of a bitch, my eyes just got really bad, like seemingly overnight, then I looked at my phone, even worse, as that shit is small and now I was going to be checking on the going rate of pencils. I was suddenly Burgess Meredith in that classic Twilight Zone episode “Time Enough At Last” where he finally gets his wish for people to be gone and leave him alone in a huge library, with countless books to read for the rest of his days, only to then break his glasses.

Then? “Oh, son of a bitch twice!” I’m still wearing my “driving” glasses. There was relief for a moment, whew, I don’t have to make phone calls to the eye doc I also haven’t found yet for a checkup and distressing news.

But now I had to take my wave back and call Beck to ask for another favor, a much bigger one. Your idiot brother left his “close” glasses in Lilly and is instead wearing his “driving” glasses which aren’t worth a spit if, ya know, ya ain’t driving and could she circle back to the shop, Hari’s, and save me?

Though I can laugh about it now, stupid unintentional things that can follow me from the moment I wake to the moment I go back to sleep (though a lot stupid happens then too, just nonsensically and with more color) but it was debilitating. It gave me a greater appreciation for what I do still have, two pairs of glasses? That’s a non-starter of an imposition.

And it gave me a greater appreciation of a sister who surely just sighs often but still loves me anyway … for the most part … I hope.

Well it seems now that not only will I have to shell out a few bunch of dollars to fix that bucket of metal stones from under Lilly’s belly (you don’t want to know the estimate, let’s just say the number is equivalent to that of a ton of bricks) but I will also have to shell out some more for some backup glasses to leave in my always places … just in case.

Ok, now I have covered the “thoughts on getting older” (for recent things) part of my header as well, or more realistically “thoughts on BEING older”.

Son of a bitch, thrice.

(Love ya Beck … Sincerely, your old man brother)