Re-Posted, three days

Re-Posted blog entry, November 30th, 2010

long time gone.

I sold my car about fourteen months ago. I sold my 1998 Saturn station wagon, with tracking-control, with 270,000 miles, with a replaced rear fender, replaced driver's side quarter panel, replaced driver's side passenger door, replaced rear driver's side quarter panel, with original stereo and original seats, (though smelling somewhere between locker room and litter box) for $100.00. Fourteen months ago.
A deer took out the rear quarter panel. A tree took out the rear fender. I took out the front and mid quarter panels. I also did the work myself. Replaced a door, window and window motor, rotated the tires and sheared the nuts. among the finer points of the station wagon set, is the functionality. Fly rod? No problem. Kayak, canoe, camping gear, three dudes? No problem.
Five adults to Chicago and back? No problem.
Having sold the car, I jumped on my bicycle, raced to the bank, deposited the check and kept twenty dollars in cash. A half gallon of milk and something I've already forgotten later, my 1998 pimento olive with wheels was a memory. Cost of new bearings, tires, balancing and tire rotation six weeks prior to selling my metallic plum 1998 Saturn station wagon? Somewhere between 4 and 5 hundred dollars.
So, I sold my car about fourteen months ago, and I've been walking and biking since. Not exclusively. I've carpooled. I've bussed. But mostly, as I've lived fairly close to wherever it is I've been working or living, I've walked. These are the voyages of the starship biped, its ongoing mission to explore new and undiscovered footpaths, sidewalks, patches of rough cement, bike lanes, stairs and routes. To knowingly take the slowest possible route, one step at a time, and discover where the sidewalk ends.

Re-Posted blog entry, December 1st, 2010

Equanimity

Today's walk. Sunny, bright, brisk, cool, icy, refreshing, sanguine....wait. Sanguine, really? And so begins my irony laced tirade.
Well, not really. I can't for the life of me think of anything ironic about proprioception...or nepotism...or the lack of one and an abundance of the other. That being said, the walk itself was beautiful, (pulchritudinous) and glorious in its abundance, (tautology) of fresh air and sunlight. Unfortunately, occasional patches of ice caused nefarious, (malignant) loss of traction, (grip) and resulted in momentary, (ephemeral) loss of proprioception, (somaesthesia) and that inherent sense of falling, (hypnagogia) which is sometimes likened to the myoclonic twitch, (hypnic jerk). So, I'm sleep walking, (somnaubulism). Or doing a version of the electric boogaloo, (crumping).
Which is odd.
Because I've been awake for a little over four hours. Coffee, breakfast, getting chewed on by the maintenance guy, (Schneider) in my apartment building. Definitely NOT ASLEEP. And I am definitely a white guy with absolutely no rhythm.
So, I'm slipping, (degenerating).
All things considered, it was a pleasant walk and had a lot going for it, (potential), but for the solitary nature, (misanthropy) of avoiding the crowded, (congested) bus and saving some money, (duckets) the equanimity, (imperturbability) of the walk would have been ruined, (extirpated).

Re-Posted blog entry, December 2nd, 2010

December second

Amazing day outside today- sunny, clear, not too cold but cold enough to know it is winter. spent the morning waking up, getting motivated to walk to the library and do the same thing I've been doing for the past year and half or so...look for a listing, somewhere, on craigs list, or monster, or usa jobs, or avue digital services, or the minnesota department of employee relations, or the us fish and wildlife service, or minnesotaworks or any of a couple more pages that might have a listing that would lead to a job, being hired and having income again.
Oddly, what brings about the most action from the powers that be, has nothing to do with responding to these ads. It has a lot more to do with trying to make conversation with a group of people who all probably have been through the same event in their own lives.
While my ego slowly cringed away from the thought that any one of them would be responsible for or capable of or meritorious enough to actually have a direct hand in hiring, (because that would be like spitting into the wind), communicating at some point will be the only way I can move beyond this stagnant cess pool of malaise...and bear in mind; "it's not what you know, it's who you know"; it seems the worth of my existence is measured by the time I've devoted to searching for a job, gotten frustrated and instead turned to friends and family for advice. Jokes. Sarcasm. Cynicism. Anything but the hollow feeling of being implicitly told my worth as a person is to define impaired, addled, disabled.
What else is there to say?
My walk. Two miles, maybe more. Sunny. Nice day.