duckshots – Page 46 – Lorin Duckman Today

Burlington Bikes Snowed IN

So, how did these bikes get here? Why didn’t the owners retrieve them. Did they forget about them? How do they get around now?

Popcorn Jockeys at Merrill’s Theatres In Burlington

So, did you ever want to make popcorn and sell tickets at a movie theatre? How exciting! You get to see the human condition and watch movies on a big screen. Oh, the indecision at the door when no decision has been made which flick to see. The problems deciding on the size of the popcorn or whether to add salt or that liquid they call butter. And what about Googers or M&M’s? After the movies, you pick up the empty cups and who knows what from the floor and sweep out the bathrooms? You can see the movies for free. And people assume you are a critic, asking for opinions on the story and acting. The down side is that you go home at night smelling like popcorn.

Ice Fishing in Vermont

I don’t do winter, well. Don’t ski. Don’t snowshoe. Don’t skate or play hockey. And I sure as hell don’t ice fish. I tried it once or twice when I lived in Salsibury, VT. My friends took me to their well appointed shack on Lake Dunmore. We drank beer, ate deer bourguignon, cooked to perfection on the site and laughed and told stories. Good friendship. But, every once in a while, we had to go check the lines. I held the flash light. Across the Lake, drivers did wheelies on the ice. We caught a few fish, little ones. The guys cleaned, cooked and ate them. Couldn’t wait to leave, though I admit I did have a good time hanging out.

Race Matters

BURLINGTON VT WELCOMES FALL

Sharon Duckman Plays Pinball at Tilt

Approaching 66, Nov 3, Sharon Duckman has taken up pinball at a bar called Tilt in South Burlington. She will not be beaten or berated. Starting from scratch when your reflexes ain’t what they used to be is a difficult task, but with a glass of wine in her hand and a few tokens, she’s got game.

Burlington’s Firewood Operator, Eric

So, some people need wood to stay warm. Hard to get logs in Burlington. Only business in town. Seasonal work! Could call it an incubator?

Homeless Sleep Where They Can

Last great day, maybe; maybe not.

Jim O’Donnell, hobo with a car. Traveling through Burlington. Knows the street and its people. On his way to Maine. Has bags in his car where he sleeps.

Cheryl’s still on the steet with Ryan. Had her baby. Says she’s homeless and hungry.

Fog today.

All day.

Sam said he came from Maryland. Carried his bike on the train. Who knows? He slept on a picnic table.

Fear of Falling

A knock at the door Saturday brought bad news. Kit Stone, who lives above us wanted to know where Ann lived. Only four units on a floor in Westlake Residences. Hardly see neighbors, except when dumping garbage. Margaret Brown, Ann’s friend and exercise buddy had died from a fall in her condo. ME said she hit her head, fell and suffocated, according the Kit. Sad way to go, for sure. Before her time was consumed by loss of memory, organ eating bacteria, embolisms or gravy like blood. I’d mourn more, but I didn’t know her, except for a few hellos and good-byes. She never wanted to have a portrait. So, I don’t remember what she looked like. And I lived in the same building with her.

So, they tell you how folksy VT is, just a little community of like people living the dream. A way of life, special, they call it. I cannot tell you much about Margaret or about many people. Saw her recycling. Know she had a red Accura. Heard she was a doctor. This State can be impersonal. Lots of wide open spaces, canopied walks and only a few roads. People spend a lot of time commuting and attending meetings. Then they hunt, ski or ride their snow mobiles, if they hadn’t had licenses revoked. Kid’s sports dominate the fall. Festivals dominate the summer. Everyone rushing to go do something, somewhere. Never enough time.

Worry. Right now, I have my health and time. But it could change. I could fall. Need to be careful.

Nice place to do a crossword, eh?

John Lennon in Burlington, again

One of my original guys. He’s back. So am I.

Not his real name, for sure. Had a following. Always a wise statement. Kind. Gentle. Smart.

When I walked the Lake Champlain Boardwalk, on one of our best days of the year, I saw him sitting in the same swing I shot him when we first met, all alone. I remember the guys with him. Three of them; one dead, two alive. And, I know where they are.

He appeared in my first show. Wants to see the photo. I had given him a print; who knows what happened to that? As to the future, who knows about that, either?