The Last Few Weeks of the Summer of 2017: Final Observations Catalogue. (Personal Essay)

I really like Game of Thrones, but there are just so many characters with so many backgrounds and plot devices. For someone like me – that’s way too much effort. I can handle 4 or 5 central characters on a television show, max. After that, I just kind of zone out and pretend to know what’s going on.  There’s only so much space left in my brain at my age. It’s kind of funny though, that whenever two characters meet for the first time, the situation hinders on who’s your daddy.

When I was a kid, we had newspapers that got delivered to our door in the morning. You would pick it up and read it over slightly burnt toast smothered in yellow tinged margarine and dark red strawberry jam. Then you went off to school or work and when you got home, you had the choice to tune into the 6 o’clock news, or if you were a night owl, maybe the 10 o’clock CBC National or the 11 o’clock late night on CTV. Nowadays, the news follows you wherever you go in your pocket. There is no escape from it. At least I learned enough not to buy margarine now. That stuff is basically just chemicals. It’s true; I saw that on the news one day.  Butter all the way now.

How come cyclists started ringing their bells at cyclists in front of them,when they want to pass?  Who started that? I mean, you don’t get cars honking in front of them before they pass. Pedestrians don’t like, shout out; “Hey, just so you know, I’m about to pass you.”  I mean, why? Why don’t you just pass? You don’t have to announce it, dude.

I love my cat. I really like it how she jumps up on my lap and starts to purr when I get home from work. On certain days, she starts licking my hand. Certain days she really goes to town, getting all up in there with that sandpaper tongue of hers. Does it feel weird? Of course it does, but I don’t stop her right away. I don’t want to offend her. So I let her continue for awhile until I get kind of uncomfortable, because I really do love her. But I fear sometimes that she just fakes affection in order to get fed again. It’s quite difficult to gauge her authenticity in our relationship.

No matter what car I drive, I always hit the wrong button to lower a window. You know how when you’re trying to pay for something and your debit card or 20 dollar bill is always in the last pocket that you check? That’s how it is for me with power windows. It takes me like, four tries to get the driver’s side one to come down. This creates a lot of anxiety for me, when I think of scenarios that require an immediate window reaction. Like if I get carjacked by someone fleeing a bank robbery. Or pulled over by a trigger happy cop. Either way, you gotta figure out that button fast. Whether it’s a pull up situation, or a pull down situation. Every second counts.

Sometimes, when I’m driving or riding my bike, I see the same people at the same location, at the exact same time of day. When that happens, I think of Fred Flintstone, when he was driving around with his best buddy Barney Rubbles.  You would see the same boulder and palm tree, over and over again in the background. I think of repetition, and how we are always so caught up in the moment, but really if you were dying on a hospital bed or whatever, you wouldn’t remember jack shit about that moment, or this one either. Like flipping pages really fast from a cartoon stick figure book, it’s the beginning and the ending that really matters. That’s what you really remember.  The rest of it is just filler.  Or, maybe it’s the opposite. I’m not really sure.

I did learn a lot from cartoons though.



Photos taken by me in the summer of 2014 on a small island near Montreal.

Which I realize, only adds to the existing confusion. 


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