Since it was already 88° (at 8:30 in the morning!), I waited in my car with it and the air-conditioning running, watching the bus make its way up Avent Ferry on the GPS tracking system.
An unkempt guy was evidently taking his morning walk, and as hot as it was, he had on a ball cap, a green t-shirt, long black pants, and was barefoot as he walked along the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Surprisingly he bent over and picked up trash, and there was plenty of it, while he walked. And I don't mean he stabbed it with a stick with a nail on the end of it or anything; he bent over and collected it in his hands. Paper, cups, cans...
On the bus, the boy sitting across from me made me think, "Holey knees, Batman."
His black t-shirt had "The Gaslight Anthem" on it, and I made a note to Google that to see if it was a band or an album or what.
By the end of the ride, that guy and I were the only two people devoid of color on the bus. In addition to us, out of the 20 or so people on the bus, the ethnic representation consisted mostly of Asian and Indian, one Native American Indian, and one African-American. Yay for diversity.
When I saw that the temperature was going to be triple digits today, and that's before the heat index, I wondered why it's called, "heat index" and "chill factor," as opposed to them both being factors or both being indexes. As a friend later noted, "You should ask Chief Meteorologist Greg Fishel that. He takes questions."
It was very quiet in the office this morning and I posted this status update (with beaucoup errors in it that I am horrified to only now notice, hence the red edit) to Facebook about it:
Speaking of editing, my work today consisted of a couple of them—one for a director who is devising a checklist of IT-related things managers need to do when "separating" (either voluntarily or involuntarily) an employee from the university, and the other a monthly IT accessibility newsletter published by a colleague of mine.
I also did some work for another colleague on a survey I created for her team yesterday, trying to figure out why the permission I gave her wasn't allowing her to see the survey results. Once I figured it out, I then authorized her entire team to view the results.
I attended a going away luncheon for Jackie, a friend whose Americorps job at the university is ending, which was held at El Cerro at Mission Valley. It was a nice small group, and I met a guy named Van there, who was a handsome, energetic whippersnapper, and he's working on a restaurant venture downtown that I hope to frequent one day.
It's alway great to spend time with Jackie, who was the student leader on my first Alternative Spring Break trip to New Orleans, and Tierza, who was also there and who was my co-advisor on that same trip.
After the luncheon I dropped into the Avent Ferry Technology Center, which is across the street, where I helped a colleague with something in our content management system, and since I had picked up my car before the luncheon, I drove back to work.
On my way home at the end of the day, driving down the road behind my building to where it intersects with Brooks Avenue by the State Employees Credit Union, ahead I saw a lady in a bright orange top about to step into the intersection. But when she saw my car coming, she stepped back toward the curb a little as if she'd decided to wait until I passed to cross the street.
However, as I approached the intersection she walked toward me, looking a little dazed and concerned, and she put her palm up and toward me in a stop gesture. I thought maybe she had been in an accident or something.
As I reached her and while I was rolling down my window, she put her right hand on her heart and extended the other one out to her side, palm facing up, presumably in case the Holy Ghost wanted to land on it, and this is what she said:
- Sir, please I need your help.
- I'm walking around in this heat. (Note: For posterity, the temp outside at the time was 101°)
- I have diabetes.
- I'm not even from North Carolina; I'm visiting here.
- Someone stole my identity.
- I have three kids that I'm trying to feed dinner to tonight...
At this point, a car was trying to turn onto the street that we were effectively blocking, and there was no end in sight to the laundry list of woes that had befallen this woman.
"I'm sorry, I can't help you ma'am," I said.
"Well, you go on with your day and be blessed, then," she said without a drip of sarcasm.
I'm not quite sure which deity was supposed to bestow those blessings upon me or what He or She had to do with either one of us at that moment, but before I could even finish that thought, she had moved over to the car that we were blocking, and started her story (and she's sticking to it) with that driver.
My friend Casey posted a blog called "An authentic vacation," which included a shout-out and affirmation to me: " " Made my day. Thanks, Casey.
This is one of the downsides of digital artifacts. This was in my inbox from the high school reunion website I'm subscribed to:
The problem with this is that "Melvin W. 'Mel' Hunter, Jr., 52, passed away on August 19, 2009 after a courageous battle with cancer." R.I.P., my friend.
I got an email today about a trip that captured my imagination! The trip was described as follows, and the more I read of it, the more I got excited about how cool it would be to go on it:
|45th Country Music Awards|
November 8 -10, 2011
Broadway Across America is pleased to extend this invitation to join us for an unforgettable trip to Nashville for the 45th Country Music Awards. This is your chance to be there for Country Music's Biggest Night as the CMAs are staged in Music City this November 9. Your full-service package includes roundtrip airfare, distinctive 4-diamond accommodations, luxury town car service, premium tickets to the legendary Grand Ole Opry, Platinum seating to the premier event in country music and invitations to the official CMA post party. All this is one of America's finest cities… come and see for yourself! Click Here to find out more about this package and book your reservations today!
Imagine my shock (and disappointment) when I clicked on the link to find this:
I mean I'd jump Tim McGraw's bones as quickly as the next guy, but that's a little steep, doncha think?
I seriously considered going to Trailer Park Prize Night tonight, but in the end, stayed in.