Observe and Report

Yesterday on Facebook, Small Change posted that there was nothing left to write about.

BJ suggested that it was now time to start teaching. Maybe he’s right.

My poetic friend Christine suggested that "there is always something to write about." And to "go outside, observe, then tell. But you have to truly see... (p.s. beer helps)."

Unfortunately for everyone, I drive around a lot for a living and drinking on the job doesn't seem to work. But today, heading north on I-684 I kept looking for something to write about today.

At first, the skies were grey. Shall I compare thee to an old lady's curly hair? The grey eyes of a mysterious woman who works at a coffee shop? Black and white explosions from the History Channel? Was I trying too hard?

I looked around some more.

As I walked into my Rite Aid to see if they needed a beer order (this is NY after all) the depressed teenage girl who works behind the photo counter smiled sadly at me as I walked in. I gave her a nod and she strangely shrugged in response.

As I drove to Cold Spring, NY the Bear Mountain Range looked like an old black man's beard from up close. It was raining heavily the day before, but up on the mountains the rain froze around the branches of the trees, and as the grey clouds were swept away and the sun rained down streaks of highlighter those branches lit up like platinum.

***

But one observation caused by weather isn't enough to justify a blog post. So I kept my eye out.

As I walked through down town Brewster, NY with all my Guatemalan friends, I looked for the only other white guy you would ever normally see in the middle of a work
day who is not mentally handicap. I wasn't looking for him because he was white, though. I was looking for him because he wears a hat like mine, has a trimmed white beard, dresses well, reminds me of Theo Blanton, and smokes the best smelling tobacco to ever come out of a mahogany colored pipe shaped like a question mark.

He wasn't around.

***

The work day ended, as it should, uneventfully. I went into my last stop, a Mobil gas station, took the order from my buddy Axel and convinced him to try a case of coconut water for his store. He smoked his cigarette and said, "it won't sell, but sure Jon, I'll give it a try. How's the car running?"

"Can't complain," I said.

***

When I got home I had a letter in the mail. It's my new insurance card. Yes, I now have health insurance. It's the first time since September 2008.

Sounds like I'm going to have to write another letter to my old friend Scott from Independence Blue Cross in Philadelphia.

Now I just got to find myself a doctor in town to tell me to stop eating ice cream every night.