When the Going Gets Tough

The tough go scrapbooking.
No really-what the fuck was I thinking offering up to do a scrapbook of Lower Broad full of creative post-modern representations of folklore via an era relevant folkloristic means of expression instead of a nice neat paper approx 8-12 pages in length. I can spew out a mediocre paper in 5 hours this scrapbook is way effing more work. I am SUCH a fool. Pardon me, I'm going to bang my head against the wall for awhile. (bangs head agains wall during several Big Star songs which were not made for head banging really...returns..spends a few moments thinking there's a breakdown afoot before realizing the MSN.com is playing music and I'm not creating new noises to accompany the Black Crowes song on the speakers)
Me and Dogface went on a rather long walk today. The weather was perfect for such things but more than that was the fella in the apt fixing the busted pipe in the kitchen. Nothing says happy monday like turning on the water to rinse out the coffee filter and hearing a very definate pouring sound and feeling water rising about ones toes. But the excercise did us good and we got to see lots of exciting neighborhood things that are easy to miss whilst in automobile.
B and me were walking down Rosebank toward Porter when a truck pulled out of a driveway and a wee dirty blonde haired girl started waving at us. I smiled and waved back and she got that brightness kids do sometimes when they're just enjoying moments adults forget are worthy of enjoyment. Not that kids know that fact, but I don't think I can explain it---speaking as a child acting in childish ways. The father was driving the truck, he smiled and waved as he pulled his truck out onto the street. He had a fluffy black dog and one of those smashed snout strange dogs in his yard. They gave Bax a bit of 'tude but Baxter just wanted to keep on walking. Baxter is the reigning king of oblivious I think.
...Random side story...yesterday a woman came thru the drive-thru all a mess saying her husband was going to have an attack when he found out she'd just spent $400 on window treatment and it was his idea to move and it wasn't her fault the windows were so damn weird shaped. She was a mess. So I listen and we talk about moving and this and that and I tke one of her drinks off her bill. Not because there was any reason to do it other than I thought she needed something good to happen to her-like her trip to Lowe's had been hell cubed and she needed some kindness. It made her so happy and I was glad...
It is a special thing to make someone happy even if it is only for 2 seconds.
Well returning to today. The dog and me got home and the sink was fixed and I was ever so glad that mess was remedied, tho I could've maybe been gladder if the repairchap had put away the cleaning products I keep under the sink rather than leaving them out on the kitchen floor. Ahh but that's minor.
Decided to go grab a couple of bottles of wine and some dinner fixin's before going back to trying to figure out what the fuck I thought I was going to do with my creative project. Before drowning in my I am not creative sorrows. I would like to note the wine I bought will last a day or three it's not like I bought 3 bottles for tonight. 2 maybe-but not three!
But, this story-related already in the CR but worthy repeat because it made me smile I guess. Because of the circle maybe. One of those things.
There I was choosing my cheap wine for the duration of time until the next time I buy cheap wine. Going for all the finest vintages-like 2004 and in some rare cases 2003. The classy stuff. I was in my finest attire, well worn cut off jeans, black t-shirt and red Chucks. My hair was in a sloppy pony thing. It probably has been brushed sometime today but I can't pinpoint exactly when. I looked a-very normal me look. And the Main Street Discount Wine and Liquor isn't really the kind of place one goes to see and be seen. (Although if you're in for a good view there's a pretty nice one of the skyline from the parking lot) It's really low culture, $3 bottles of wine $5 bottles of flavored rum, cashier slowling gaining a grasp of the English language, bars on the windows, drunks stumbling in buying their discount liquor and wine with change. Smoking allowed in the store. It's the kind of place that's an adventure at 5 on a Friday. Kind of like the instant check cashing place or the grocery store on the first. You get the picture. I spend a lot of time there.
so there I am minding my own business-And someone flicks me-hard!-on the shoulder. You can imagine this is not really the kind of place I want to run into people I know-it's kind of the sort of place you park 3 doors down and walk to because it's that ghetto. But I am not one to ignore an assault on my personage so I looked up and there's Todd smilin' that smile of his. Well, you can imagine there was a little moment of-of all the places to run into someone-but then you know he could've walked right by me and neither of us would've ever had to admit knowledge that the other patronized such an establishment. Hell, I wouldn't have seen him I was picking out lousy wine.
We exchanged pleasantries and he was off and I was buying my cheap wine happy with that little East Nashville moment. It's like belonging somewhere at last-somewhere where people I've paid money to see acknowledge my existance with the same casualness as would be afforded any old body. I guess in East Nashville-or at least at the Main Street Discount Wine and Liquor- I am just any old body and every old body is a friend in the 'hood.