The race to the tree.
Me on bike, man with dog.
I won.

Yesterday, someone, a guy, just walked by me and looked me in the face and said, “Good man,” and he went his way and I went mine. I said “hey”
I’m not sure if I knew him, but if we knew each other, I’m sure we would have said something.
Still, it was nice to hear…

The other day I was thinking of Solid as a Rock by Ashford and Simpson, which is currently playing right now at the fruit stands where I am working at for a few days this week.

It was an enjoyable bike ride yesterday, approximately 14 miles. The weather was pleasant, very dry, and we are in drought conditions.

Sorry, I’m working at another fruit stand, the same one I was at last week for one day, and this week I’m here for 3 days. It’s very uptight. The fruit is not moving as much as they’d like, but it’s still ripe and fresh.

There’s a meeting of the fruit stand workers this morning, which I had to attend and I usually don’t have to since I am at another location most of the time, so this is not one of those times, so I had to attend. It was dreadfully boring.

I was the odd man out who somehow got through it unscathed. Bill is driving senior citizens around, and senior citizens are probably 10 years older than us these days.

Mike is still a narcissist. I hope things go well for him, but one never knows, and he does not have the healthiest skepticism that I have. He once loved, and he’s trying hard for it.
3,000 miles is quite a distance to overcome or to come over, or you can bukkake on FaceTime.
I did take photos of Mike on Saturday afternoon in Jersey City. He has over 1,000 followers (9,789 Followers), and I helped fuel that narcissism machine.

I’m listening to the fruit stand playlist on fruit stand radio, and it’s basically the same crap that I heard the other day. The playlist does not change.

The music is all pop music, and I recognize some of the songs from Girl Talk songs from 15 years ago. Come on, ride that train. Put some “D’s” on that bitch…
Motherfucker plays on the fruit stand office radio. Hip hop is the dominant music these days. I am fine with that.

Last night I watched a video of a group of ants moving a dead salamander up a potted plant. Obviously grabbed my attention, and it was fascinating. It was more than 5 minutes but less than 10 minutes.
Older men, or Daddy’s, is what I used to be after. Now I am in that age bracket where I am someone’s daddy, Mike likes to call me Dad, as it goes Bill Dad so we are his dad’s. But the Dads I was after, they’re few and far between and fading away.

I’m also reminded of the bar/bri review at the now-gone Statler Hilton hotel. Having to move a pallet of books from the van on the street to a suite inside. Parking was impossible, yet somehow I did it. It should have been a two-man job 43 years ago, but it wasn’t and now the company I worked for is gone, the hotel I was delivering to is gone, and yet I am still here, ain’t that something?

28 minutes left, that means the 28 long minutes long long long

It seems that all my anxiety over the weekend about working where I am at the fruit stand this week was for naught. I can be my own worst enemy. But luckily, I have someone like Bill in my life to take care of my messy mind and even people like Jimmy Chile, who has talked me off the ledge a few times. I really should get over it, perhaps I will soon enough.