This particular bus driver—yes, it's her again—obviously: 1) Just doesn't get hot, and 2) Is completely unaware of (or doesn't care about) anybody on the bus but herself. I am seriously considering either trying to make the 7:45 bus (which is going to be hard for me) or exclusively riding the Wolfline bus until the weather gets cooler.
One problem with the Wolfline bus is that the one that serves my area is not in service starting Monday, August 9, until school starts back up on August 17. That sucks.
In other yenta news, a man boarded this morning with three children, which is notable in and of itself, but what caught my attention was that he had on dress clothes—a white button-down shirt and pin-striped black suit pants—with which he wore black tennis shoes (more dressy than white ones, at least) and anklet-length blue socks. I probably wouldn't have even noticed his shoes and socks, but because when he sat down his pants raised up high enough to show leg with those short socks on, it caught my attention.
A man sitting in the front of the right center-facing seat took a phone call, and although I was about four seats back and on the other side of the bus, I could hear that he had an "island" accent.
Passing my old credit union stop, I noted that, nope, no CAT Method 12 bus stop sign has been erected yet.
I was delighted to learn that my friend Myra is back on campus with a new job for the Shelton Leadership Center over in the McKimmon Center off Western Boulevard. I saw a Facebook status update to that effect, and I e-mailed her about having to get together for lunch soon. She wrote back, and in the course of it, wrote this affirmation:
|I've been reading your blog—fantastic as always. You manage to make me laugh and think about life all at the same time. I'm so sorry to hear about all the losses you and your family have experienced recently. I'm always impressed at the poignancy with which you capture those moments.|
I took the bus over to the campus student center to make a donation to Stop Hunger Now by giving them what I might spend on a lunch somewhere to eat one of the pre-packaged meals that the organization distributes to try and address hunger issues around the world.
There was a man sitting across from me who had the bushiest eyebrows in history—I'm quite sure they intertwined with his eyelashes in a couple of places, and he was one of those people who keep their mouth open all the time. No self-awareness. He kept moving and turning his head (bastard!), so I could only manage this shot, which illustrates the mouth issue, but not the eyebrow issue.
I'm a little ambivalent about the Stop Hunger Now event, as I only had about 30 minutes, and I thought I was going to go in, give my $10 donation, and eat a quick meal. Instead what happened was that the food wasn't quite ready, and they gave a presentation about the problem of world hunger and about the organization Stop Hunger Now.
Don't get me wrong. I'm obviously interested in the problem of world hunger and I love the organization that did this and why they were doing it. I just hadn't planned the time that it ended up taking to do this, and I had to be back to my office for a 1:00 meeting. I do think this two-minute video they showed is worth watching:
Dancing was an absolute tragedy tonight, so much so that I'm thinking about taking "a sabbatical" from it myself (à la Carl) starting next Wednesday.
Neither Carl nor Bill were there tonight, and the place was dead early in the evening. At the bar to get my first drink, a guy to the right of me was pleading with Jim, the bartender, saying, "Just one more. I'm not driving man. I walked here." He didn't seem drunk to me, but I was wrong about that.
About ten minutes later, the guy fell off a barstool he was sitting on and hit his head on the cement floor. Jim came over just to make sure he was still alive, and the guy kept saying, "I'm all right. I'm all right," as he got himself up. Once he did, Jim asked him to leave.
Later on, I went up for my second drink, and it was still empty in the place, and Jim said, "I just threw somebody else out of here."
"You did?" I asked, surprised, as I hadn't noticed anyone come in drunk or loud or anything.
Jim said, "Yeah. It's this guy who comes in here all the time, but he never buys anything. I asked him, 'You gonna buy anything tonight?' and he said, 'No,' so I said, 'Get out, then.' I ride two hours to come here and bartend on Wednesday night. I live in Wilmington. I can't come all the way here and not make any tip money."
I was just speechless, and I thought, "This place is fucked up." Gotta make some kind of decision before next Wednesday.
I had an exchange on a friend's blog about obituaries, which ended up in my digging up two of my most favorites. Long-time readers will already be familiar with these, so you're done here for today. :-)
1929 - Aug. 7, 2008
Dolores Aguilar, born in 1929 in New Mexico, left us on August 7, 2008. She will be met in the afterlife by her husband, Raymond, her son, Paul Jr., and daughter, Ruby.
She is survived by her daughters Marietta, Mitzi, Stella, Beatrice, Virginia and Ramona, and son Billy; grandchildren, Donnelle, Joe, Mitzie, Maria, Mario, Marty, Tynette, Tania, Leta, Alexandria, Tommy, Billy, Mathew, Raymond, Kenny, Javier, Lisa, Ashlie and Michael; great-grandchildren, Brendan, Joseph, Karissa, Jacob, Delaney, Shawn, Cienna, Bailey, Christian, Andre Jr., Andrea, Keith, Saeed, Nujaymah, Salma, Merissa, Emily, Jayci, Isabella, Samantha and Emily. I apologize if I missed anyone.
Dolores had no hobbies, made no contribution to society and rarely shared a kind word or deed in her life. I speak for the majority of her family when I say her presence will not be missed by many, very few tears will be shed and there will be no lamenting over her passing.
Her family will remember Dolores and amongst ourselves we will remember her in our own way, which were mostly sad and troubling times throughout the years. We may have some fond memories of her and perhaps we will think of those times too. But I truly believe at the end of the day ALL of us will really only miss what we never had, a good and kind mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. I hope she is finally at peace with herself. As for the rest of us left behind, I hope this is the beginning of a time of healing and learning to be a family again.
There will be no service, no prayers and no closure for the family she spent a lifetime tearing apart. We cannot come together in the end to see to it that her grandchildren and great-grandchildren can say their goodbyes. So I say here for all of us, GOOD BYE, MOM.