13 August 2014

13 August 2014 – General Journal Entry – thought I’d type one…

I woke up this morning and laid in bed waiting for Todd’s music to blair throughout the house. While waiting I read while still in bed. Miroslav Holub’s The Fly and A History Lesson. Can’t find ’em like that anymore. Insightful. Took a shower, skipped breakfast, grabbed the green saddle bag and rode to work. Oh, after watering a bare patch in the front yard. Coasted down Hillview. Watched red brake lights in front of me. No helmut again. Did not attempt to coast to the usual green mailbox on Black Pine Trail. Looped around on Polaris, passed a beautiful shade tree with no deer resting on the grass this morning below. Dropped down past the law firm on High Park and over to to the Salt Mine. Rested the Sugar against a Flowering Crab, well in the springtime, flowering. Read the paper version of the Journal. Read online versions of the NYT, Bloomberg and the Financial Times. Not much of note today other than the usual stuff of humor, i.e.., Japan’s Central Bank buying ETFs… Is this the future? Spoke with a few folks. Never turned on the lights. Opened the blinds which brings in plenty of light. Looked at Van Gogh’s Sunflowers. Got a large box in the mail which was the renewal of Value Line. Did not open. Went to lunch across the street at a pasta shop with a long time customer. It’s funny how stockbrokers and investment advisors refer to their customers as “clients.” Phony baloney. However, customers who have been in the fold for two decades often become friends. So, I went to lunch with a friend. Listened to sirens on the walk over. Had Cesar Salad and Tomato Soup. He went for the shrimp on his salad. My salad had a little too much dressing, otherwise excellent lunch. I even scored a few shrimp! Talked about this year’s fair. We spoke about the water industry. It was his turn to buy. I thanked him and walked back across High Park to the office. The sun was bright, the sky was blue and it was in the low nineties. Hot, but not humid like Savannah! Bearable. Called someone regarding their message about their first Required Minimum Distribution. Seems all of the Boomers are sitting on tax time bombs waiting to go off. Everything has been tax deferred and is now waiting to be taxed. Are we better off to save outside of a qualified account throughout our lives? Capital gains after all are lower, you know? Called a fund group about a rollover. The paperwork needed a Signature Guarantee, they informed me. I momentarily got annoyed as I had one of these in my office (branch) under the prior arrangement – going back to ’99. Said ok, I’d send it to the back office. Listened to the Czech Children’s Choir. Opened Value Line box. Noted VL’s p/e is at 18 on next 12 months, a recent high. Closed the Value Line book thinking to myself this was the conversation I’d just had which went something like, “Sorry I’ve not been calling lately to buy shares, but things are a bit expensive at the moment.” I think Getty said to buy when others are fearful? 2009? I wrote a thank you note for the lunch. Walked the office mail over to the box at the Pattee Creek Market Place, which I still call “Bi-Lo.” Someone out front at the desk once told me she’s the same way. Looked at a pretty cool motorcycle in the parking lot with a side passenger car. Knobby tires, forest green. Walked around the back of the store to look at the old Duck’s Unlimited project – a marsh. Along the way over I asked a guy standing at the bus stop, “How much is it today to ride the Mountain Line?” “$0.50 or $1.00,” he said. “Probably still worth it,” I replied. The first pond was full, barely flowing and a murky, off color green. The second pond looked like bone dry patches of dirt and dust surrounded by green and in patches brown cattails. I sat on a bench looking at it for a short while. No one was out walking today. I thought about the prior conversation on water. What about the ducks? What is the state of affairs regarding drought conditions in parts of the U.S.? Certainly not an issue at the moment in NY or MI, I concluded. Detroit made the paper with autos under water at the moment. I walked back to the office. A guy in an apron was having a smoke behind Bi-Lo. We waived to one another and I thought of bumming one, though I generally refrain from cigs. I took two continuing ed modules when I got back. One on Communications and the other on Identity Theft. Heard sirens again. Decided to call it a day. Got on the blue Sugar (my first Gary Fisher) which still has Max’s (former mountain bike race mechanic and buddy) yellow flower stickers on it in strange places. I converted it into a “commuter” ride, basically changing the pedals to flats on one side and clip less on the other. I wish Fisher had not sold out to Trek. I rode back up High Park, across Polaris, down Black Pine and stopped at the intersection with Hillview trying to hold a track stand while watching what was rapidly brewing over Blue Mountain. Lightning was crashing in the area, rapidly coming in from the southwest, Idaho. Riding up Hillview was tedious as I had a pretty good headwind. I managed to make it up prior to the big release. “Do you need a ride or have far to go? This is going to be a big one, a hail storm!” My neighbor, with a concerned look informed me, his blue oxford flapping while hanging out of the back of his grey trousers as he checked his mail. What is it with grey trousers and brown shoes? Molly and I long ago agreed this did not seem to work. “No thanks, I’m you neighbor only a few houses over around the bend,” I said as he turned back towards his home. It was a very thoughtful gesture. Nice to know such people still exist. I glided down to the house passing some garbage that had blown onto Southridge from cans already placed out for tomorrow morning. Thursday is garbage day. It was raining pretty hard now. I booked to the back deck wondering where the three kids were as they were not to be found on the main floor. Two downstairs, one on his tv and another with the dog curled up next to him while he played on the x-box. The third upstairs with netflix on the i-pad. I quickly took down the bird feeder and brought in the tomato plants. Covered up the Thai peppers and the grill. I watched the rain pelt the deck and windows. I laid on the couch realizing I was not going to ride up to Point Six tonight in this baloney. I started James Thompson’s Winter from his Seasons. I prefer the “nature writers.” He was a good one. While sitting on the old chair I listened to a conversation between my wife and daughter about a blue pair of shoes. I said they looked like clogs and I like them. Then it was mentioned they had fur on the inside. That seemed awkward to me so I chimed in about needing socks and the shoes being therefore a winter shoe? No, they’re a year round shoe, I was told. I went back to the poem. The Blackberry rang. “You are not out riding in this lightning, are you?” It was mom. “No, I’m at home now.” “Because you know what happened to your father…” “Yes, mom.” He was hit by lightning on a green in West Virginia during a round, got up and walked off the course. Something like that. The storm let up. I took a photo of an inversion in the Bitterroot below Lolo and south as the light hit the mountain and upper section of the clouds. Got the latest Poetry Northwest and read during dinner Hicok’s Amen, expressing his thoughts on tech on campus – my thoughts exactly. Worth a read. We were on our own for chow tonight. Molly had a soccer meeting. “Let’s take the dog for a walk,” I tried to talk the kids into a quick stroll. Just Wen and I went for a walk. Good thing soccer is so often or I might have blown a fuse. It was the usual scene while walking. Kids were riding skate boards in one section and singing odd songs. Nice to see. Others were playing whiffle ball above the Alliance Church. Wen grabbed an old apple among many below a neighbor’s tree. I wondered if she would choke on it as we walked, but let her treat it as her toy along the route anyway. I eventually got worried and smashed it on the road so she could eat it, which she partially did. Walking back I thought of one night walking with Wen when we laid on the grass on Chief Charlo’s school grounds staring into distant galaxies. That was a late night walk. As we walked by the school today, four crows played on the top of the chain link fence, squawking and carrying on. One flew off not too far below us and Wen went for it jerking my arm and straining her neck against the old leather Dunn’s collar. The dark bird was indifferent. I noticed seven more glancing down from a large Spruce enjoying the entertainment. I thought of the conversation I’d recently had with one of the kids regarding the difference between Ravens and Crows. Their tails, beaks and size. Numbers, etcetera. Ravens are most often not in large groups, wise birds. Back to the house, I’m quickly typing this up like last night’s little poem. Wagner and Rachmaninoff are going on the rotating CD player. Got Conrad’s Youth recently. Guess I’ll wrap up today with that.

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