20160627 (id revealed)

Not quite the guy you want to see in your driver's side window on a fine Saturday afternoon

You can surprise yourself every

Once in a while as I did last

Saturday in the W117th Giant

Eagle parking lot. The background

Is I drive slower than the thirty

Five for Franklin. It’s my

Neighborhood and I know the

Possibility of kids running out

From between cars parked along 

The north side of the street. 

It’s dangerous enough at thirty 

So I do twenty-five. This can

Aggravate a driver behind me

Who, mindful of the No Passing

Double yellow stripes, may

Register his/her (typically, his)

Irritation by a little horn music.

I’ll usually pull aside and let 

Them pass. Mind you it’s a rare 

Circumstance because there 

Isn’t that much traffic most 

Of the time. That day, there 

Was this BMW seven series who

Blasted me a couple times but 

I had no place to pull aside. He

Then gunned his engine (which,

Surprised me by being so loud)

And roared past on the left, 

Crossing the yellow lines, but

Those are for other people, not

BMW seven series types. The

Advantage proved minuscule

As we were both in the parking

Lot at the same time—he traveling

Toward the store and I traveling

Away from the store but in the

Same lane. A car pulled out; I

Pulled in. I had Loki with me so

I set the front windows to be 

Open a smidge when a large 

Face atop a large body loomed

Angrily at my car window. “I 

Will give you two fucking seconds, 

You pansy-assed shithead to get 

Out of my parking space,” the 

Face announced. I was shaken

But calm enough to counter, 

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak your

Language,” which calmed him

Not a whit. “Don’t give me 

Any crap about my language.

You saw me pulling back 

To let the guy out,” he seemed 

To speak with his biceps

Which resembled small beer

Barrels. When I said I didn’t

Speak his language I thought

He’d catch on about the foul

Mouth but he didn’t. I shrugged

Again and he moved away as I

Opened the door to let myself

Out. I saw he had parked his car

On the other side of the lane

About two spots further. If he

Had been affronted, it wasn’t by

Much. He kept yelling about

My not speaking his language

As we walked toward the store—

He was ahead. I got in a pedantic

Mood and shouted up to him as

People watched and listened. “You

Know you really have to work 

On that mouth of yours. It’s

Gonna get you in trouble one

Day,” I replied in a surprisingly

Aggressive (for me) tone. “You’re

Lucky we’re in a public space.”

“Is that a threat? So far it sounds

Like an assault. Do I have to call

A cop?” By now I couldn’t believe

Mild-mannered I could loud

Sass somebody, scared as I was.

Gotta admit I was shaking about

It through the shopping. Talking

To the policeman in the store

Didn’t calm me much. I can’t

Take comfort in my response

Which bore nothing of either

Satyagraha or Christian respect 

For the offender.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016

20160626 (disposal)

Noon

7 PM

You can see I’m losing ground

If you’ve been watching the 

Blogdate. This is labeled for 

The 26th but it’s really 9 PM

On the 27th. I’ve been removing

Stuff from the house and garage

Mostly taking it to a recycler for

Pennies or donating it to Habitat

For that wonderful “good all over”

Feeling you get when it all 

Becomes somebody else’s problem.

Since I haven’t started into the 

Clothes yet, mostly hardware 

And furniture, it appears we 

Have become a society that

Makes far more wire and 

Doorknobs than we’ll ever

Need. Same goes for kitchen

Cabinets of which I just “Freed”

About seven uppers and one

Rotating base corner beauty

The door of which needed to 

Be adjusted so it would hit

The detent for closure in the 

Center rather than 2 inches off.

I concluded this problem could

Not be corrected unless someone

Propped the door at the exact 

Center. That closed both sides.

How could one get inside to

Make the necessary adjustment?

Only a battery of elves could

Bring this off. I left it to them.

Hauled them out about noon.

All gone by 7 PM.  Like giving

Away the rest of the puppies:

You hope they go to a good home.

Yet there is still a whopping

Amount to sell, donate, or pitch.

And I tire easily. The dog walk

Is a challenge now. We used to 

Walk for miles (never four miles).

When we got home the dog 

Would (not the dogwood) crash

And I’d move on to the next

Job. Now I crash with the dog

Whose doggie-years are like

My human ones. His frailties

Are showing up. His puppiness

Long gone. I can’t even get

My puppiness to show up in 

My dreams. That would be

Some satisfaction. Those 

Memories have to be pried

From time by crowbars of

Recollection, spurred by

Old pictures. Fragrances will 

Bring some back even though

I wasn’t keen on scents in my

Youth (nor sense, either). If the

Body is the tool of life (keep it

Clean here) my edges have 

Rusted and dulled with time

To the point where no amount

Of honing will restore them—

Except for my words, of course,

Which are getting harder to 

Find, harder to join cleverly

To compel an emotion, convey

An experience, discover some

Novelty worth sharing. Mind

You now, it will likely only

Be commentary on what’s

Already out there. The well

May have gone dry.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016 

20160625 (good neighborhoods)

I will be sad to leave Ohio City

Where nowadays we can walk

In the early night without fear

Of being assaulted as I was at

The gate of my own home by

Two thugs at midnight close to

Ten years ago. Today I’m glad

The face-bashing did not scare

Me away. Dinah, my ex, thought

It best to leave the area at once,

Take our loss, and head for the 

Imagined safety of the suburbs.

In the divorce, we sold the 

House we’d tried living in 

Together. She moved on, and

I kept the wreck on Franklin.

As the neighborhood improved

In safety I became more aware

Of the congeniality of the older

Neighbors who humanized what

Could very easily have become

An area on a real estate map of

Profitable construction and

Restoration—soulless, yuppified, 

Gentrified flipped properties. It’s

A place where today you can 

Strike a conversation with people

Walking past your home or out 

On a walk with your dog. You can

Greet strangers and they become

Strangers no more. They’re Arun

And Aya, who reacted to your 

Barking pup, the sentinel of

2908, guardian of the home, the

Fuzzball combo of Poodle and 

Schnauzer who, going east is

Known as a Schnoodle and going

West is known as a Poozner. I

Think it’s neighborly to greet them

And get to know they live nearby

And both work in medicine. I,

Plying my verbosity, probably 

Talked more and should have let

Them talk more about themselves.

Hopefully when I see them again

I will remember something close

To their names and will greet them

Pleasantly. If they cover their ears

With their hands and run away, I’ll

Know I overdid it. But I won’t stop.

I think neighborhoods are made

By people greeting those on their 

Porches as one walks by. It’s good

To ask a stranger, “Isn’t the weather

Just great/awful/too cold/too hot?”

I hope I’ve played a part in making 

This a desirable place to live by

Chatting with store clerks and 

Saying good morning to the mailman.

Part of what I preach is “We’re all

In the same boat, we may as well

Get to know each other.” And nine

Times out of ten the people you 

Meet are fascinating who contain 

Some wisdom we could all profit

By. The grumpy may stay grumpy

But a lot of them, once you open

The door, will relate their burdens,

Go away slightly more comforted.

The old buildings are charming,

Yes. The prices are improving, yes.

But what makes the neighborhood

So desirable is that you can feel 

You’re among friends, because

You are.

C. J.S.Manista, 2016