The much quoted saying is that "you can't teach an old dog new tricks". That said, I learned a whole bunch of new tricks, yesterday.
I am really enjoying my new job. Two weeks in and it's just fun. But I'm being exposed to and expected to conquer some of the complexities of this job. I'm doing more than just "moving cars". I'm learning how to record positions as those cars are moved from place to place. I'm learning what areas contain cars for different purposes, and how to record them.
I've discovered I'm still quick. And that feels good. Old dog. New tricks.
Edwin Jackson looked solid yesterday as the Cubs shut out the Royals, 7-0. Maybe, just maybe, he is going to return to the form the Cubs anticipated when they gave him that huge, long term, contract.
A piece of advice: Don't ever bruise your tailbone. It's literally a pain in the ass.
Rahm and Chuy face off soon. Not soon enough if you ask me. Mayoral runoff elections are as much a pain in the ass as a bruised tailbone. Except, of course, if you're a local radio or TV station.
The guy who portrays "Mayhem" in the Allstate commercials is actually Dean Winters and he currently stars in a new series on CBS, "Battle Creek". Which I like.
As a car driver at an auto auction, I've driven many different cars in the last two weeks. The best? Buick Lacrosse.
The weather is finally breaking into Spring. Thank goodness.
Fergus climbed the short flight of metal stairs up to the old fashioned wooden door with the big pane of glass in the top, opened it, and stepped into the small vestibule that separated the outside world from the rest of the house. The inside door was frosted glass,( so someone in the vestibule couldn't see in ) which never made any sense to him. He had always thought the outside door should have been frosted glass - not the inside.
He opened the inner door and stepped into the front room, once the parlor, but now the room he used as his office. His desk sat in the bay window, where he could watch his street.
He threw his keys on the desk and thought, for a moment, about diving back into that file that still bothered the shit out of him, but decided, instead, to go into the kitchen at the back of the house and pull a beer out of the fridge.
That's when he saw the shadow flit across the window at the back of the kitchen, headed away from the back door. By the time he got to the window, a figure was vaulting the back gate in the yard and climbing on the back end of a motorcycle, which then took off.
He opened the kitchen door to look at the lock. It had scratches. Someone had tried to break in. After searching the house and especially his desk, he decided that whomever it was, they hadn't gotten in.
The only thing in his house anyone would want was that file.
He walked over to his desk and picked up the file. "Someone seems to want you pretty badly." Fergus talked to himself, once in a while. And to inanimate objects, too.
"Well, my little papery friend, you and I are going to bed together. I don't trust you down here, all by yourself. You might decide to run off with the first little beggar that picks you up - and we can't have that. I still haven't figured out just what it is you're trying to tell me - and I certainly don't want to lose track of you before I do. So what do you say we secure the house and go upstairs together, where we can sleep and explore your messages in the morning, okay?"
"Yeah. I thought so, too. Good idea."
I really love the area in and around Sedona, Arizona. If I had my 'druthers, I'd spend as much time as possible there, with camera, paints and easel, taking pictures and making Art that expresses my admiration for the landscape.
I watched a PBS documentary concerning the River Shannon, in Ireland, last night. The subject was more about the changes on the river, over time. About the birds no longer there and the ones newly arrived. About the fish and the frogs and the bats. And the insects.
The thing is, as the older standing species fade away because of the ever present "Change", the newer arrivals find themselves a comfortable home where they had no home, before. But it is home and they bring with them their culture and rules and calls and mating rituals.
The old are pushed out, and the new take their place, and they make the river live.
Which only goes to show that no matter how much we cover ourselves in the trappings of life, living, culture and technology, we are as much part of Nature as the denizens of the river Shannon, and subject to the same rules, the same norms, and the same ultimate result: we age, we and our contemporaries fade away, and our rules and culture are replaced by the "new", the young, the livers of life, the makers of the replacement systems.
It is inevitable, there's nothing to do about it. It's just a bitch to be among the ones being replaced, rather than doing the replacing.