For This I Waited?

I had typed, "This Is What I Waited For?" as the intended title for this post, but then realized that I was ending the sentence with a preposition and changed it to its current form. Things like that bother me. Though I'll often begin a sentence with a conjunction for effect and to punctuate the added thought, and sometimes actually leave the preposition at the end because it would be just too awkward sounding to correct it, when I catch myself I fix things like them unless writing them for an intended reason.

Even there, in offering that explanation of the change in the post title, I lead up to the point I'm about to make which is that I desperately need a vacation - from myself!

Since Christmas, I think, I was waiting for the school year to end so I could start my annual summer vacation. By late March I was practically dancing with eager anticipation of that last day of school. It came two weeks ago, and it went. Now, here I am with weeks ahead of me during which I'll be my own primary companion and I'm finding that what I really need most isn't a break from school, but a break from being me.

I drive myself crazy with indecision among other things. I can sit here at 6:30 in the morning with a whole day ahead of me on which to do anything I choose, and find myself in this very same chair getting hungry for lunch with nothing worthwhile accomplished because I couldn't decide what to do. And when it comes time for that actual lunch? It can be overwhelming a choice if I opt for something other than my big salad. The difference between a cheese steak made from a leftover hunk of London broil and a salami and cheese sandwich would seem to be of apparent earth shattering consequence when it comes to making my decision. Then, as soon as the first bit of whatever I've chosen hits my taste buds, I start regretting that I hadn't opted for the alternate.

It's like that all day when I'm here alone. Not only with indecision but with self-motivation too. I have a number of things I'd like to get done for myself this summer. Yet, with the passing of each morning I find myself on the other side of noon telling myself that it's too late to start and that I'll have a better chance of beginning all fresh and rested tomorrow morning.

To be sure, it's not only myself driving me crazy at the moment. There are things of much more significance the courses of which will be charted over the span of the next few days. I'm playing a waiting game while I'm writing this, and to be certain, I'm losing the game miserably. I want to take a dose of something that will allow me to sleep until I need to be awake to tend to things that will need tending.

My best buddy from high school is now lying in a hospital somewhere in Boston with an annoying problem that seems to have gone into a chronic form. And his spirits are higher than mine! Yep. I need a break from this - from ME for a while.

I saw this little guy in the Wal Mart parking lot a few days ago, and when I got back I looked him up online. Seemingly, he might look a lot better than he performs if this review is typical for his make and model. Unfortunately, it speaks as poorly about the scooter as it does for what "customer service" has come to mean since I was a kid and the customer was always right. In this guy's case the manufacturer and distributor got into it as they often do with each blaming the other and not really caring about the fact that the customer ended up with a defective product. It's like good old Wal Mart not caring at all these days about how long the checkout lines are. Never has "Caveat emptor!" been as poignant an admonition as it is now.

Now...

...what to do after lunch? Oh! Wait...

What IS for lunch?

Rides!

When I was a kid, there were a number of amusement parks within reasonable driving distance. Not that I ever got taken to them often, but now and then as a rare treat we might visit one on a Sunday afternoon, and the elementary school I attended and later taught at had an annual picnic at one, and then another and another as they closed down in succession leaving "da valley" without one of its own. The only relatively small park (compared to the mega parks owned by huge corporations) that's left is Knoebels in Elysburg, Pa. It's about an hour or so away and just about everybody knows of it, so it's the one I refer to when persons who'd never in a million years get onto a scooter ask me what it's like to ride. My stock answer: "It's like going to Knoebels, but you never have to get off the rides."

I thought of that when I was passing by a fair that's going on between Wilkes-Barre and Scranton and decided to stop in just to get a picture. The fairgrounds were open but the only folks in sight seemed to be the ones who were setting up for when it would open later in the day. There didn't seem to be any Paul Blart types around so I scooted right through the open gates and parked the BV to get a shot with the Ferris wheel in it.

On my way from there to the bank I passed by the V.F.W. hall in Dupont, Pa. - one in which I'd played the accordion in a few different polka bands back in the late 70's when they still had local beers on tap for a dime a glass. Too bad for me then because I didn't like beer and preferred the pretentious taste of scotch and water, but I digress. On the side of the building now is a beautiful patriotic mural. I got a small part of it in this picture, posed with the scooter of course, but because of where the sun was positioned I couldn't get more of it without washing out the shot with glare. I'll have to head back sometime to see if the sun is in a better spot to make capturing the full mural possible.

I was going to ride more but got a call to head to the garage to pick up one of the cars that was in for service, and right after I got back to the house married daughter called to say that she and her husband were on their way up for the Fathers' Day weekend. Thus, I'm only riding the computer chair and might squeeze in a little nap before they get here.

A very Happy Fathers' Day to all the other daddies and guys who are just as good as daddies but without the official title!

Best Space (Not) in the Lot

I still enjoy parking the scooter as close to stores as I can manage, usually right around the corner from the entrance.  I don't really seem to get any dirty looks.  It's almost as if the general motoring public expects to see bikes parked on sidewalks.

I suppose I could pretend, if I needed to, that I'm concerned about the safety and well being of the BV and wanting to keep it away from where cars could do it a lot of harm if their drivers aren't careful, but I'd be fibbing.  It's because I'm lazy and don't like walking all the way from beyond the handicap spaces to the doors and back.

Places like Wal Mart and Target keep the electronics where the supermarkets keep the bread and milk - way in the back to force you to walk past a whole pile of crap you don't plan to buy on the way to get to the good stuff.  And Sears I hate ever since they started the commercials about the "softer side of Sears" which meant that they were going to hide all the cool Craftsman tools completely behind the clothing.  Besides, I don't want to buy my dainties in the same place where I get my circular saw blades.  It's just not manly!

Heck!  I'd ride the cycle through the stores if they'd let me.  And they should until they start putting all the stuff I like right up front where it belongs!