My friend George Solomon died. The death notice said suddenly, but I would say he saw it coming. Rushing here to there. Driving like a maniac. Wolfing down meals. Not paying attention to his weight. He wanted to live his life his way, death be damned. Sadly he won’t see his daughter’s nuptials, but he did live to see her become engaged.
Bicycle rides in and around Burlington don’t require off road searches for places to pee. Most parks have pissoires, clean, very clean pissoires. This one at Oakledge Park allows bathers a chance to shower and change at Blanchard Beach.
Paul tells me he had another life. We have all had another life, at least those of us who tried and failed. He says he was a photographer. Where his work hangs or sits, who knows? He told me yesterday, as he sat on the pavement outside Rite Aid in the rain asking for change that his wife died unexpectedly. BFP called Paul and his friends aggressive panhandlers. Clearly, the business groups don’t want him or his kind around. They removed the bench from the College Street bus stop. Allegedly, Paul moved it back. Got to have some place to sit, eh.
I watched the police action that took one of his friends off the street. No idea what was going on. At least the guy in custody didn’t have to deal with the weather. Paul looked like he had enough, as he walked away freely. I gave him a couple of bucks and some change.
In a way I felt disappointed, but that is baseball is it not? Sandy Koufax could not find the plate in his early years. Of course, Sandy was brought up because the rules on bonus babies required that they be with the home team. Nowadays, phenoms, as Steven Strassberg has been called, can find themselves in the Show to fill seats in a stadium in a non-baseball city with lousy weather, mediocre talent, and a poor record. “First in war. First in Peace. Last in the American League.” He could, on the other hand, be the real deal. Last night, he wasn’t. Moreover, he showed he might not be.
Lena took gas, according to George. She discovered her husband played around and took her own life. She lies in OZ’s hallowed cemetery.
Very hard explaining to UVM students studying death and dying the Jewish way that the religion prevents suicide victims from burial in consecrated ground without knowing how or why she got there. Someone wanted her beauty to live on, putting her image on the stone.
Stan died at 78. My friend Brien Stevens said the good thing was he had a heart attack and went fast. I said bad thing is that he is not keeping old trains, old buildings, or old baseball players alive anymore.
Hard to believe, but we felt the effects of an earthquake in Burlington just after 1:00pm. At first, we didn’t know what it was. The doors rattled. The glasses clinked. The ceiling creaked. Had one when we lived in Manchester in 2002. Lasted for 20 seconds. No apparent damage here, but 5.0 can put a charge in ya. They say it came from Ontario. A few weeks ago, they sent us smoke from forest fires. So much for our friendly neighbors from the North.
Fundraiser for new Skate park near the Moran building. DJ from90.1. Sponsored by the usual suspects like JDK and Burton, the skaters competed in varying age groups for glory and gifts. Price Chopper donated hot dogs. Some company sent that caffeinated green juice which in my era was called “pea juice,” albeit without the kick. The teachers at school and counselors at camp served it in those paper cups that looked like a pleated skirt.
Not funny enough. Dated. Lazy. Feminist slant without explaining where it was coming from or why. She had some ready to do local humor from the stupid runoff elections that were recently voted down to the farmers market, which she says she is a fan of, which was packed with girls covered with ink on Saturday morning, and didn’t touch it. Just the same bull about how cool Burlington purports to be which it isn’t, though it isn’t bad, so long as you don’t really ask what is going on.