Layng quietly in fields

Layng quietly in fields
Glstening lights

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Kindness can be hard to find.



Today's Tids Issue 4,294
Nothing essentially changes:

I’m declaring today a National Holiday, and it’s not for Clemson, or anything the government is up to now in or has done in the past. It’s just a holiday for beautiful life itself. That’s all,

So, in reality, fun is better. Last night Clemson coach Jaba Swinny's fun filled philosophy soundly squished the business-like dour team of Lou Saban. Laugh, but thrust a big elbow.

Correction: Yesterday I mistakenly said that Kevin Spacey would be on trial in Nantucket at the courthouse Edgartown. Of course, everybody including me knows that Edgartown is on Martha’s Vineyard. In fact, I was just in Nantucket and in the past have eaten at the Club Car restaurant where the alleged crime took place. A reader tells me that under new ownership the expensive restaurant has lost that intrinsic value that had made it so special for decades in the past. We miss too many intrinsic values these days.

In our mud room there’s a shoe rack that’s shaped like a dinner fork, with a sign: “These are the tines that dry men’s soles.”

There’s a lot of talk about driverless cars, and one developer who walks the walk, will be letting cars drive the drive…that is, in the Villages, the humongous retirement community in Florida. Yes, Gary Mores of the Morse Family who created the massive controlled multi-village city, and CEO Oliver Cameron made a deal with the State and Google. So now “The Voyagers” will be making life even easier in this sprawling retreat. It appears that this is a safer alternative than having seniors scooting around in golf carts. Computers glitches are less frequent than senior moments.

The Question:
 Can you name the popular hit song that was published a full month after the sudden airplane crash that killed its popular singer? Bonus: Name the top four all-time winningest NBA coaches

The Headlines:
--Hopeful US/China Pushing Stocks Higher; Samsung Joins Apple In Forecasts For Big-Tech Slowdown.
--Sears To Pull Down The Blinds And Lock The Doors; Salvation Attempts Fail.; Alas.
--S&P Cuts PG&E Bonds To “Junk” Status.
--For the First Time, Amazon Rises To “Most Valuable Company” Status; Big Online Retailer Jumps Over Microsoft.
--Clemson Overwhelms Mighty Alabama 41-16 To Take National Collegiate Football Title; Saban Says, “I didn’t Do A Very Good Job”.
--Spacey Arrested For Speeding During Paparazzi Chase In Washington DC.

Don’t be surprised if you start seeing a push from Clemson fans, “Jaba for Prez”.

We are in one of these now frequent political “Scorecard” battles where it is not about fixing problems but about getting credit for not agreeing. Some laud the outspoken activists, but what we are, and perhaps will be seeing more often, is entering a troublesome era of “I hate you” politics where simple situations morph into small crises only because of big egos and small ideologies. We have created a irreconcilable attitudes that will get in the way for a reasonable solution to anything.

In 2005, Barack Obama said, “We simply cannot allow people to pour into the United States undetected, undocumented and unchecked, and circumventing the line of people who are waiting patiently, diligently and lawfully to become immigrants in this country.” That’s all that the majority of those people painted as racist by activists have been saying. Kindness begins with the truth.

The next phrase that will send the stock market tumbling is “Nothing happened at the US/China Trade meeting”.

My new slogan: Trevor Lawrence For Replacing Tom Brady! (If he can hang around until 2030)

Ocasio-Cortez as just another predictable community organizer.

The Mayor of Providence Elorza could be one of the emerging disciples of O-C, as he said yesterday in his inauguration speech that the new objective for the City of Providence is “Kindness”.  He said he’s not going to follow the formulas that made cities like Boston, Pittsburgh and San Fran vibrant and great. Good plan for the future. Basically, I think he wants happy people who don’t do anything better than one another. Then, he could be saying, he wants a place where illegal immigrants can thrive on the state’s largess, without fear of being condemned for their unlawful act. But, let’s face it, Providence does need a lot of kindness, especially in some communities where it appears that every day somebody is getting shot, often innocently in crossfires. Kindness could begin with the eradication of gangs, for starters. Hey, I’m kind. I just demand truth.

Kindness is in the heart, not in edicts.

The top 4 best jobs for 2019 based on a happy medium of several factors including income, growth and comfortable private life are Software developer, Statistician, Physicians Assistant, and Dentist. If only money is the deciding factor, then the best jobs are Anesthesiologist (Average $265K) followed by Surgeon, Oral and Maxillofacial Surgeon, Obstetrician and Gynecologist. I don’t qualify for any of them.

Lou Saban of the marauding Crimson Tide said after the game: “I didn’t do a good Job”. Did he happen to noticed that Clemson played lights out football?

The Answer:
I always imagine Otis Redding sitting on The Dock of the Bay writing music. It’s just one of those images. Bonus: #10 is Bill Fitch. Moving along up to number one, at #9 we have Rick Adelman then Larry Brown, Phil Jackson, George Karl, Pat Riley, Gregg Popovich (Still coaching), Jerry Sloan and at #2, Lenny Wilkins. The #1 all-time winningest NBA coach is Don Nelson. What happened to Red Auerbach? Well, Don played under Red. In fact, playing for Red on the Celtics made Don Nelson’s career, which had looked like a dead end when he was playing for the “hated” LA Lakers.

My latest pet peeve is the media inferring that the national parks are full of trash because of Trump’s Government closure. There’s trash because inconsiderate human beings throw it on the ground, in the bushes, upon the shimmering streams. Period. Why can’t our intrepid journalist get behind of program to promote taking your garbage with you. Even better, why can’t we get people to understand anything about the word “responsibility”. Like teach it in school.

Happy January 8th 2019, everybody. Take a breather, on me.

Beware: If you go below this line, you are back into catching up on “The Parking Lot”.

Prologue:
Newport RI, 2017
Just as I do every morning, I look out my window at the parking lot behind my city condominium and count the cars left overnight. Today there are three, which is about average for a weekend. On week days there may be one or two. I figure, there’s a story in every one of those cars thousands of cars I’ve seen waiting for the masters. It could be as simple as one driver taking care of a friend who had ten or twelve shots too many. It could be more. A lot more. It is a novelists dream come true, ad my idea for a TV series.
It was about 1:30 on this particular day when the owner of one remaining car showed up, but she wasn’t being driven. She walked slowly out of the alley leading into the lot. Her head was down, and she seemed to walk with a slight limp. As she looked around and spied her car she moved faster. Now, almost running as she neared her car, she was trying to reach into her jouncing bag, apparently fumbling around for, I expect, her keys. Suddenly, the bag dropped, she stopped looking hopelessly as all of her special stuff rolled and bounced along the black macadam. She slowly kneeled, and I felt my own heart ache for her. She didn’t reach out to reclaim her possessions. She just knelt, her eyes appearing to look at a graffiti marred brick wall.  I saw her shoulders shuddering.
   The woman looked traumatized, and she dressed for the occasion, with a gray oversized blouse and flimsy shawl draped over her shoulders which fell in bunches of material upon the black surface. She drew me in. I have one of those hearts that opens up too widely too often. I was so intense with her that I almost missed hearing the rumble, an aggressive rumble, from a car speeding down our cobblestone drive way.
 I didn’t miss the car as it swerved into the parking lot and headed directly at the woman, at an increasing rate. I screamed through the window and storm windows two stories above her. She didn’t hear me. She didn’t turn towards the car. The only motion was her shoulders, heaving, heaving. I turned and ran, hobbled, down a flight of stairs to my door and down another longer flight to the garage and an exit door. stopped and looked to the right where I remembered I had stacked a couple of 3 foot two by fours. I reached in and grabbed one and put my shoulder to the door. God, did that hurt.  I stumbled out, rubbing my shoulder, seeing a stopped car, inches from the woman who was now beginning to react. The fear I saw in her eyes went up my spine and grabbed my throat. A guy was rising out of the front seat, and he got bigger and bigger as he hauled a large body out of the car.
   The girl now on her hands and knees facing him started crawling backwards towards her car, her feet flicking away cans, bottles, wallets and small bags that had tumbled from her purse earlier. The man took two giant steps and was upon her. He didn’t say, “Mother may I”, so I ran and shouted, “Hey, hey, hey.” That was a mistake. He twisted around, facing me. “Get out of here old man.  This ain’t your business. You don’t want it to be your business”
“Leave her alone.” I shouted back, trying to sound tough, which for me, rarely worked. I held up my weapon. He smiled. “Try it,” the smile seemed to say.

Her eyes were feverish now. Moving rapidly side to side as the hulk in front of me dismissed my threats with a smirk and turned back toward where she had been. She was grasping at the area around her body, when suddenly she stopped, and was motionless. She raised her hand as the big man approached and sprayed from the can she was now holding tightly in her hand. The brute’s hands went to his eyes and he cried out. He roared crazily. I took a step back. He was really mad now, and he flayed around trying to remember his bearings and the position of his prey. She had moved, now quickly and determined to the side. I saw an opportunity and rushed at him with everything I had, sore shoulder aimed at his mid-section. I plowed into him expecting to mash him into the car now just a foot beyond. It felt like I was hitting a cast iron lamp post, and I just bounced off, dropping my 2 by 4 and tumbling to the ground finally landing on my back. I lay still now somewhat bewildered by my inadequacies, looking up at the giant blinking back his sight. I was doomed. He reached down and picked up my weapon, while I noticed the woman struggling to unlock her car door. I moved up to one knee, not knowing what I could do. He seemed a little confused, not knowing whether to pummel me or go after the woman. I used his hesitation as an opportunity to rise quickly. I was hoping to get back into a position of some advantage, but noticed at once that he had raised my piece of lumber and it was coming down at a rapid pace towards my head. Just before I ducked, I saw the woman jump in to her car. Then it struck my now exposed back sending enormous pain rattling throughout my aging bones. It was not that proverbial glancing blow.

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