Wednesday 19 October 2011

Not That Keen On Spice

It’s an odd little world that we live in. Nothing is quite as it appears and strangely enough it doesn’t appear the same to everyone.

I ran into my friend Mars and his wife Alex today. I hadn’t talked to them for quite some time, so I kept them talking and talking and talking while they were holding their grocery bags. I kind of felt guilty, but obviously not enough to shut my mouth. We talked about their cycling trip this summer and their new trikes. Every now and then you look into someone’s eyes and can tell that they are in love. Mars and Alex had that look when they talked about their trikes. The way they talked made me want one. I don’t know if I want one enough to actually buy one, but I may think about it. I may try to find one on this website, , I have the tandem.

So, back to topic. We were talking and I mentioned Hawaii. Mars said that he hated Hawaii and I guess, looking at the dumbfounded expression on my face he explained. His reasons made sense and gave me an opportunity to look at something from a different point of view. They say that one mans garbage is another man’s treasure. I am thinking that it is still garbage, but the second guy is a horder like me and will take pretty much anything. I have been working at a construction site off and on for the past few weeks, and I am stunned by the things that get tossed out. I have to continually tell myself to “put it down, it is garbage and it isn’t yours!” I haven’t always been successful. I scored a used drill bit and a two inch piece of copper wire today.

One year when I was a kid and went with the family to Florida, we stayed at our regular motel and just down the beach a marching band was staying at another motel. I guess they were down here to play at the Orange Bowl game, or in the Orange Parade, or maybe the Orange “who gives a crap” thing. The first day down there, we were walking along the beach and lo and behold, what should appear but a marching band playing the theme from Hawaii Five-O. They were really good! We stood transfixed, until they marched out of sight. Pretty cool!

Then, they marched back. Then they marched away again. Here they come again. Thank god they are gone again! Shit! They are coming back again. This went on for a week and a half. If I could have driven a bus onto the boardwalk and crushed the band and their instruments, I would have counted the forty consecutive life sentences to be worth it. I stuffed cotton balls into my ears and it sort of muffled the sound. I really haven’t been able to stand the Hawaii Five-O theme song since.

I guess too much of anything is...well...too much. I know people that think my hatred for garbage men and bus drivers is unfounded, and I have heard that some people even like the garbage scum and transit terrorists. I guess variety is the spice of life.

I’m just not that keen on spice.

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