Strange and strained Saturday

Saturday, September 6, 2014
10:19 p.m.
People never cease to amaze me, and in many cases it is the idiotic things they say or do.
Electricity was in the air when Michigan State University came to Eugene, Oregon in the first matchup of two top ten football teams. Number three Ducks. Number seven Spartans.  Game Day was in town. The ramifications of a loss was huge for both teams, though that could be an erroneous assumption on my part. For the Ducks. For the Ducks, Marcus Mariota had the Heisman Trophy on the line. For the Ducks as a while, the bid for a national title was on the line. Neither the quarterback nor the team wanted a deja vu of last year’s one loss that dashed so many hopes.
The Ducks didn’t run away with the game until the second half. They must have gotten a powerful talking to by Coach Mark Helfrich because the Ducks took it to Spartans in the second half and turned  a deficit into a rout.
Meanwhile, I was out at the Kettle Korn stand hawking the product. Inebriated customers are common, which is a sad statement but true. One such guy approached what I call the tin can, the trailer where the Kettle Korn is freshly cooked, he asked the price. When he heard the price was six dollars, he got loud and pissy and said that that was bullshit. He then proceeded to slam a bill down on the counter and grab a bag of Korn, exclaiming, “keep the change” as he walked away. The bill was a ten dollar bill. We all looked at each other dumbfounded.
The strangest thing that happened was a man had a seizure right in front of the stand. We all stopped what we were doing to help the man. But there is not a lot that five people can do but get in the way, especially when the episode drew people in like magnets. It wasn’t long before paramedics and police were on the scene, so we presumed our operations while they helped the man, who at that point turned uncooperative, prolonging the situation. I was caught off guard when a woman approached us and asked us how could we be selling popcorn while a man is lying on the ground and that we should be ashamed of ourselves for chasing the almighty dollar.  Natasha and I just looked at each other. We thought we were doing a good thing, distracting the people around us. Maybe we were supposed to turn the customers away and tell them to come back later. Life always just goes on regardless of the bad things that happen. Telling life to take a time out has never been an option.
Hopefully the man got the necessary medical attention he needed and is recovering since hope is and was the only thing I had to offer to him.

The Lottery

Friday, September 5, 2014

I know many of you can relate to being exhausted yet jazzed. (Don’t you just love it when I write as if these words have an audience. For all I know, I could be the only one seeing them.)

Anyway, today I subbed at North Eugene High School. Go Highlanders. I re-experienced Shirley Jackson’s, “The Lottery,” but instead of text, the  class saw the video interpretation. For times I saw this YouTube. It is  going to take a bit to shake lose the image of the character getting stoned to death.

I am the kind of person who can read the gory stuff. Stephen King. Dean Koontz. But I don’t watch those kind of movies. The line isn’t straight though because I can watch grizzly, and I am not sure if that’s the right spelling, but I can watch CSI or Criminal Minds. I was really into X-Files, and there were some gruesome episodes. The pigs come to mind.

Five months?

Thursday, September 4, 2014
12:33 p.m.
It’s been a long time since I last entered any words on this blog. So long that I have to count on my fingers. April. May. June. July. August. Wow. Five months. Where the heck have I been?
The last time I wrote, I was getting ready for the 2014 garden. June and July saw a lot of gardening time. Planting, weeding.
I’m one of those gardeners that throw myself into my garden, spending my entire time working it, tending it, but then towards the end of August, I’m done. I still have things growing, so I do go out and water and pick things, but I don’t feel as attached. In fact, as i watch some of the plants come to the end of their lives, I get a bit detached; it’s like watching a good friend die, and I have a hard time adjusting.
And now I need a distraction. I need work. But as a substitute, the work is scarce in the beginning of the school year, so I’m reminding myself that writing is a great distraction. Hey, perhaps other people out there have a similar problem when it comes to struggling with seasonal change.
Since the sun hasn’t gotten the memo that summer is almost over, I think I’ll take advantage of doing some reading on the deck in the sun…