Friday Follies...
Weren't we JUST here at the beginning of the weekend?
Hard to believe it was a whole SEVEN days ago...must be the impending holidays coming up.
All's been a bit more quiet in the old ghettohood of late, and I'm NOT complaining one damn bit (for a change)...LOL!
Of course, you have to remember that ANY quiet you get down here (and believe me, it IS rare) is based on some observations I've made over the years.
--The FIRST week of the month is ALWAYS the busiest & noisiest.
And why is THAT, you ask?
Well, most everyone down here gets that little "gub'ment" check, or had their (federal) debit card "refilled", and it's "party-time".
You will likely see the most "traffic" in the area, and it's because somehow, people have money to buy drugs.
--The SECOND week of any month still has it's share of partying, but you can spot those WHO blew the wad the previous week.
--The THIRD week starts to wind down with gusto. Less partying - more crime. Traffic to and from certain houses for controlled substances is now on the "credit" system (until the next federal funding arrives).
The hard-core party people (and most of the dealers) are still tooling about, being loud enough to wake the dead, and it's also when you start to hear more burglaries and robberies (to amend the money these morons have carelessly wasted again). You see a lot more "suspicious" people meandering along the streets at all hours, many with backpacks, and they're NOT students.
--The LAST week of the month - everyone is DYING for that next federal "fix" (read handout), and it shows. All the flotsam in the area has this "hangdog" look on their faces, as if they've been cheated somehow.
People around here are totally tapped the hell out, and might go around the area with a rake wanting to clean your property for additional "funding" until the check arrives NEXT week to begin the process anew.
And this goes on month after month...year after year.
Nothing changes except the faces, the number of babies born ('cause screwing is fun when you got the feds fleecing the taxpayers to fund your life), and the amount of damage to the cars being driven around.
And that's a curious thing down here.
Old cars (from the late 80s to the early 2000s) NEVER die...they JUST wind up DOWN HERE for some strange reason.
It really makes it difficult to tell dispatch you've got a noise violator in a white 1987 Caddy, when you've seen about TEN of them in the last several weeks...!
And there are always certain cars that draw the attention of the "locals", in that there are SO many of them driving around.
The Buick LeSabre is a favorite, as is ANY Cadillac. Lincoln town cars and full size Caprice Classics, Ford Crown Vics and Mercury Grand Marquis are also prized.
(remember - the bigger the trunk, the bigger the stereo)
Then there are the REAL "car lovers"...the ones that up and get a 1970s era car such as an Olds Cutlass or Buick Electra 225 (the "deuce and a quarter" was the old Philly ghetto expression for those)...and promptly go and "urbanize" it into something even a junk dealer wouldn't want to scrap.
-Forget that the loud stereo is messing with the structure of the metal holding that POS together, or that it's causing about TWELVE kinds of hurt to whoever is inside the vehicle.
-Forget that those god-awful HUGE rims have changed the GEOMETRY of the vehicle to the point where it's not safe to drive on the street.
-Forget that your front-end will need alignment damn near every month, and the brakes will wear out before you know it.
-Forget that you can no longer properly TURN the vehicle, because of the wheel size.
Now, I've always been a car lover, and when I see what these creatures DO to a once nice car...it's pathetic AND sad at the same time.
(must be a "cultural thang")
But today is one of those nice and quasi-serene mornings.
Only ones up are the birds on the patio and perhaps a squirrel or my rabbit buddy coming for their food that I put out.
Don't even hear any crows...(yet).
And as I said to myself when I went out earlier...
"Be a damn nice day IF the neighbors DON'T wake the frack UP!"
Ah, yes...I can dream.
Yeah, it's one of those days where the sun comes up like thunder, slightly peeking through the trees until it clears the roof lines of the houses and then...POW...there it is in all it's splendor.
'Ya gotta love that.
If you put on the classical music station (as I do every day), and close your eyes...you almost believe, for a brief time, that you are NOT living in an area filled with human vermin, and that you are indeed STILL among the truly living. And that can be the best blessing you'll find down here, most days.
Hell, I'm the first in the last 3 generations of men on my side of my branch of my family that has lived PAST 57 years, so I'm hanging in there for all it's worth.
It's the whole "borrowed time" gig to me.
Sure, I've got the assorted aches and pains that middle age (NOT to be confused with MIDDLE EARTH) brings to a body that's been through the mill a few times (and through a ceiling ONCE), but when you take time to take stock in what you have, and look outside and see another sunrise, it all doesn't hurt AS BAD, 'ya know? It all makes a bit more sense, regardless of the tribulations past, present OR future.
Now, if this seems or sounds familiar, well maybe it's because Thanksgiving is rolling up behind us like a LEO on a traffic stop...only thing missing is lights & siren chirps (thankfully).
But we've plenty of time to reflect on that NEXT week.
For now, I'm going to just enjoy the (all too) brief time this morning where things seems a bit more right with the world...
None of this TSA grope-a-thon going on at our airports, none of this Charlie Rangel slap-on-the-wrist for charges he was found guilty on that would land any of US in the hoosegow, none of the other things that would incur my ire....I've got a scrapple sandwich that is waiting with my name on it.
And I've got a wee dram of scotch in my coffee.
Like I've always said...I am a man of simple pleasures - Mrs. Bobby G. thinks I'm just plain simple...either one works for me.
Whatever gets the job done...whatever it takes for as long as it takes.
That, my dear readers is called life.
And most days, it works damn well.
May you ALL enjoy a fantastic weekend, wherever the Good Lord finds you.
Be well, make a difference to someone, and, as always...
Stay safe out there, America.
We'll catch 'ya on the flip side.

((And remember - only THIRTY-SIX shopping days until Christmas))