subject: wheels and shoes and fun and no fun

They're comfortable. They won't stand another wash, people over 42 tell me to throw them away, but I don't have to tie or untie them. I mean, they fit! Like slippers.

It's been five years since I owned these Chucks. I bought them when they were retro and was greatly surprised to find them then. They're the shoes we kids wore in the early 70's or thereabouts. In the days of the Redball Express shoes, which were guarenteed to make you run faster.

No pump action on these.

So, my retro shoes are now very much in style again , you might have noticed. They're everywhere! In colors you never saw, back when. Mine are admired for being gray and dirty and so, so old. Maybe people think they're the original article.

One more wash? I think not...

Since my work spree ended on Saturday, life has been Rio Grande now for nearly days. However, on my way home that day I honked at a fellow in a wheel-chair. Since, well, I had the right-of -way. I was surprised at myself, but probably not as surprised as he was. And I couldn't hear him but by the facial contortions I guessed he was pretty mad and cussing me out good.

That was like a fast clip from a movie montage of madness, I thought. I'll never forget that face. I'm glad I can't read lips.

It was a deliberately short 'beep', by the way. Sort of like you'd give a six year old on a bicycle when he's not being safe and, if not for your hyper-awareness, you'd have sent him flying fourty feet. With six year olds, I always figure I'm teaching them a valuable lesson, and really lean on the horn, like for half a block. Burn it into their little brains, look both ways, cars are predators being driven by adults driving home worn out from work.

I'm hearing not much listening to my poor room-mate talk to his girlfriend on the phone. Really feeling happy that's not me, listening to her talk about her sinus troubles. He is patient. Tells me he wants this to end---the relationship, I mean---but as of this hour long conversation he's only tried to say goodbye three times, so he's not really started the process. Maybe he is ambivilent. Hell, maybe it's nice. He's reading his magazine at the same time; got up once to point out an article to me about some new model of car.

We're not too well aquainted yet, but I know we'll get along. He's the best roomie so far. The only drawback being, I think he's here to stay.

That is, he won't relapse. The miracle has occured. Zero compulsion/desire to drink or use drugs. You can tell. "We withdraw from such temptations like we would pull our hands away from an open flame." (Paraphrase from the so-called 'Promises', which do come true, it seems. For some.)

Tomorrow I'll hopefully spend less time online and more time visiting. It's a day off, got to remember what I do on days off, particularly weekdays.

At the end of today's best of the week meeting, I told people I'd like for word to get around that I need a tennis partner this Spring and Summer. Preferably someone in their 50's or 60's who smokes, I said. Afterwards, I got invited to play golf. And all I could think was, could I drive the cart, because that's the only part that sounds like fun.

Anyway. Tennis. I have some other tennis shoes. They're ready.