Honk If You Love What's-His-Name
It’s been a fairly quiet day here on North Franklin. The street’s named for John Franklin, I am told; I am not told if it’s the Arctic explorer or the Maryland politician. Or someone else entirely. But it’s not for Benj. Franklin, deceased.
A couple flights of geese came by overhead this afternoon. I lived along the shore years ago and learned at an early age not to look up at birds with my mouth open. I kept this in mind while viewing the honkers. I also recalled the bumper stickers, “Honk If You Love Jesus,” and marveled at the piety of these geese as they flew East, honking as if they could see the Second Coming from their height.
My stepcat needed some crunchy food and also some litter. I told my friend Brenda, whose store it is, that I needed “some in and out.” She didn’t quite get it at first. “Crunchy food is the ‘in’ and kitty litter is the ‘out’,” I said. “The cat goes in the middle.”
I look at my 11-year-old Cavalier and think how nice it would be to have a Lincoln Town Car. I could do with a Town Car, FM and satellite radio, CD player, maybe a GPS unit. Yes, I could be very happy with that. Only problem is, I never drive more than five miles from where I am sitting right now. One of my favorite pieces, “Scheherazade,” by Rimsky-Korsakov, is longer than anywhere I drive around here. I’ve never quite heard it in its entirety. Either I’ll have to drive slower, or take some back roads on my way home.
Other than that, it’s been a fairly quiet day on North Franklin.
A couple flights of geese came by overhead this afternoon. I lived along the shore years ago and learned at an early age not to look up at birds with my mouth open. I kept this in mind while viewing the honkers. I also recalled the bumper stickers, “Honk If You Love Jesus,” and marveled at the piety of these geese as they flew East, honking as if they could see the Second Coming from their height.
My stepcat needed some crunchy food and also some litter. I told my friend Brenda, whose store it is, that I needed “some in and out.” She didn’t quite get it at first. “Crunchy food is the ‘in’ and kitty litter is the ‘out’,” I said. “The cat goes in the middle.”
I look at my 11-year-old Cavalier and think how nice it would be to have a Lincoln Town Car. I could do with a Town Car, FM and satellite radio, CD player, maybe a GPS unit. Yes, I could be very happy with that. Only problem is, I never drive more than five miles from where I am sitting right now. One of my favorite pieces, “Scheherazade,” by Rimsky-Korsakov, is longer than anywhere I drive around here. I’ve never quite heard it in its entirety. Either I’ll have to drive slower, or take some back roads on my way home.
Other than that, it’s been a fairly quiet day on North Franklin.
posted by Tom Carten at 12:32 AM
2 Comments:
Well, I don't think satellite radio is going to be around much longer, so you're not missing much there.
My mum and daddy own a 2003 Town Car. Plus: CD player. Neg: rear wheel drive.
Dave
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