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May 15, 2003, Lunar Eclipse Day Yesterday was my last day at NRG. I couldn't get out of there fast enough, but I had to stay an extra hour (unpaid - timesheet already signed for 5pm) to leave my mess of now obsolete (like me) files manageable for the next unfortunate minion to touch them. It was also the day they had the big nation-wide conference call with the employees about the bankruptcy hanging over our heads for about a year. I think they filed the papers, too, but it's not my problem anymore. I hope my few remaining comrades survive and remain in good spirits. Today, I slept in an extra hour, decided to call Lisa about pushing our dog walking appointment up by 2 days, spent an hour looking for the business card I saw again for the first time in a year only last Saturday while cleaning up for the party, finally gave up and wrote an email, remembered that I needed to turn in that last time sheet and drop off my updated resume, took the bus downtown and rode an extra 2 blocks so I could stroll from the beginning of the Nicollet Mall Thursday market instead of bolting through the middle, stopped to watch a "blues-man" and drop my change into his hat, saw 2 NRGinos I never said good-bye to, and had sandwiches with Lisa, all by 1 pm. Went home, prepared a picnic for 2 (me and Bob), did a little work, and Lisa can walk at 6, so no eclipse for her. She likes Lake Harriet, and we keep a brisk pace, with a purprise meeting of my niece Cara, her husband Dane and their little pipsqueak Brigetta. Bob welcomes the short rest. Back to house to prepare for the main event. I take the I-book, 2 egg salad sandwiches, a soda, some strawberries from downtown, and drive over to the north parking lot and walk a hundred yards west and set up at the perfect park bench, Then I write this as the world gets dark about me. My typing has improved immensely in less than an hour. The only cloud in the sky is just in the moon's way, but it is thin and very temporary. I take a few video shots and try to catch some "progress". Bob is so perfectly well behaved it is a marvel. He wanders slowly about like a tiny cow, dragging the retractable leash behind him, in the dark, never very far, sniffing and watching everything, mock-stealth spying on unsuspecting dogs and masters passing by in front of us at a rate of several per minute. I am using a camcorder to record the most dramatic several minutes. We are joined by a gentleman I've seen dozens of times. I ask him his name. John is probably 70+. He pets Bob and makes conversation about my computer, and we talk about the eclipse. I give a Lucy Van Pelt-like lesson about the cloud that keeps moving up to obscure the moon. Oops, the cloud has long since moved on - that's what an eclipse looks like, dummy. In my defense, it has been passing behind a tree for quite a while, so my vision has been obscured. By the time totality is near, all twilight is gone, I finally figure out how to set it on the bench to get a good picture, and my battery runs out about a minute too soon. He's been walking around Lake Calhoun for over 20 years. It takes him 3 hours. He excuses himself so he can finish in a reasonable time, and leaves me to return to the keys. The moon is very dark - a mere haze would make it invisible, but it is perfectly clear. It's about 55 degrees and I packed long pants so I can last indefinitely, though me derrier is a might sore from the wooden slats. People have been looking at this strange sight since I sat down here almost 2 hours ago. What are they thinking now? "What is that up there on a bench - a strange orange sliver casting an eerie glow" on my hands and hooded face, surrounded by pitch blackness on a spooky, red-mooned night. I can't help myself; I'm just here to entertain. What a great day! Why aren't they all like this? Why do we have to spend all our time cooped up in tall buildings with no hustle, no bustles, nothing but hissing and dull murmur of almost whispers? Traffic, crime, stress, disease. And we're the lucky ones on this planet. What a stupid world we created. If we're so sapien, why did we pass this amendment to the version we inherited? Why has it been years since I felt free to relax? Enough frivolity, it's time to get back to some serious business. Saturday, May 17, 2003. Big Neighborhood Garage Sale Day I'm sitting in front of my ex-store, with 5 tables full of quality merchandise and personal belongings, holding my 10th (?) yard/garage sale in 4 years. It all started back in 1999 when Cindy and I decided to sell the house and I held a very successful sale in September. It was so warm and I spent a month sorting and packing, so I held another in October. We had a LOT of stuff, and it was still 70 degrees in November, so I held yet another, and I still had a lot of stuff, and rented a storage unit to hold all the comics, so why not keep the stuff until spring? Well 4 springs later, I still have some of the stuff, plus a lot more that's been added, and in the process of cutting, selling, and throwing, I decided to have another one, along with a hundred other neighbors in the CARAG neighborhood (Calhoun Area something somethin' sumpin). Seeing as how my plan, still very tentative at this point, but the only plan I'm actively working on, involves moving to California, I don't plan on keeping it all around until "next time" this time. (I still have the nice sideboard from the 13th av house, in case anyone would love to borrow, store, have, etc., but not much else worth handing down.) Still haven't sold my aunt Irene's stereo, even with an 8-track. Sunday, May 18, 2003. |
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