Saturday, February 23, 2013

The Dispatch From Escalatorville- Vignettes & Banalities in Ancient Municipalities

I'm almost certain that something more ambitious or generous is coming down the pike in the nearest of futures...in the meanwhile, these rambling thoughts on things -
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Like 'Zelig' but less colorful...
I grabbed a backpack that had been haphazardly stuffed with clipboards, paper and writing implements, then headed out for a random meander. At one turn I found myself headed through the local campus of my Alma Mater, as I frequently do - however, not quite so much during the changing of classes (as I was doing at the exact same instant the notion for this very paragraph hit my noggin).

As I sauntered through my old stomping grounds; backpack hung in a faux-hipster like fashion over one shoulder, pens and pencils askew and nearly escaping, awkwardly checking the time - I passed by professors whom I'd never had class with, yet always walked by in hallways (some of them obviously thinking "why hasn't that guy graduated yet?") and got quizzical looks from freshman and juniors alike wondering what class the new old-guy-student is in.

Some may, at first deceived by my glasses, believe that I am an instructor - then they see that old backpack (...hung in a faux-hipster like fashion over one shoulder, pens and pencils askew and nearly escaping...) - and my nonexistent cover is blown.

I am neither student nor teacher - I am merely an observer with obvious tools.

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I'm guessing a major in 'Theater Arts'?
(Editor's Note: It takes one to know one)

As I ambled once again through the campus recently, I noticed a  young woman awkwardly walking her dog. Leashing hand outstretched in front of her, she stumbled forward a few steps, got yanked to one side, tried to right herself, and got pulled to the other.

A quick back step, another slight forward stumble - and after a brief moment of true 'who is walking whom?' peculiarity - she straightened everything out and headed down the side-walk with carefree ease.

That's when I noticed - there was no leash at all, and no dog, either.
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Where are the Animals for the Ethical Treatment Of People?
Don't get me wrong, or write letters, animal lovers: I completely understand the meaning behind that "Who Rescued Who" paw-shaped sticker on the back of your vehicle. But, let's face facts - given what your dog knows about you, they may just have left you at the pound, or would have failed to get you all of your shots. It's not that they're uncaring, they just don’t carry around that much cash.
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The Spollies Of Felling:
A PATRIOT is only one leg away from being the anagram of A TRAITOR. Nothing implied or intended there, just an observation regarding our quirky language (or, our 'Quaking Yule Rag'- if you'd prefer).
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I thought it was ear wax, apparently it was just words.
About two days after we learned of the resignation of Pope Benedict, I was alerted to this already digested news from acquaintance. An acquaintance whom I've noted before is elderly, senile, and set in the mindset of the South in the 1930's.

As she pointed directly towards the down-town Cathedral - "Did you hear, now they gotta get a new bishop (meaning The POPE)over there, I guess."

Then, under her breath, for all to hear - "I bet this time they probably pick the black one."
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User Errors
I'm not the most savvy when it comes to the interwebs, or whatever the kids are calling their computery things nowadays - but I do have a general "style vs. discretion" issue with the facebook. Everything has become equally important in the FB world, thus producing some seeming inconsistencies when it comes to what we post.

I cite the following example:
 - a friend posted two notices nearly simultaneously, so that the they appeared in my "feed" one atop the other.

As I scroll down the page I read first an old witticism wherein the joke teller paints himself as an apex of insultery by indicating that he has had carnal relations with the mother of the intended recipient of a nonexistent insult.

This was followed immediately by a sincere and heartfelt plea to help forward a message regarding a missing child. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for helping kids, and especially helping to find ones that are missing (we really need to do more as a society than we're doing about that) - but to hit me with that plea right after relating some ribald punditry?

It's like giving someone marshmallow ice cream while stabbing their tongue with a fork.


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He's A Desecrated Follower Of Fashion
I have noticed a recent clothing trend which I do not despise. Women of a certain youngish age have taken to wearing dresses that while elegant and flowing against the back of the leg, tend to cut the hem upward a bit toward the fore, coming to rest slightly above the knee. Thus the outfit is shorter in the front than it is in the rear, I've taken to calling it the "Mullet Dress."

Granted it is probably quite a bit comfortable for the wearer; when a lovely young lass headed in my direction found herself wearing one in a slight breeze, however, it also prompted the older gentleman about three steps ahead of me to grumble in a low, yet increasingly excited tone - "uh, oh, whooooooooooah."

I simply smiled as she passed by, but I'm sure she was flattered by both of us, Sir.
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The Dispatch From Escalatorville
Z.F. Lively, Proprietor/I have a theory about 'The Walking Dead' even though I've only seen the first 5 minutes of the series.
escalatorville@yahoo.com for Murder Ballads and Burdened Mallards