A Coincidental Universe

After getting baked (in the traditional sense of the word, not the hipster doofus definition) we had a weekend of glorious weather. As a recent retiree, I have discovered days with very little already organized or pre-programmed; the world is my oyster and it's entirely my fault I don't enjoy seafood. 

Saturday and Sunday were pretty marvelous though I'd give the edge to Saturday (mainly because of lower humidity than Sunday's and our son's 36th birthday (and party) was Saturday; maybe I should have put those reasons in the other order.) with which I started the day by walking to my local pharmacy to retrieve one filled prescription from earlier in the week (when it was much too hot to walk down and back to accomplish).

As I set off on my sojourn I saw walking in my general direction a couple I judged to be about my age or a little younger (I pride myself on my powers of observation undeterred by the complete absence of any talents or abilities), pushing a stroller. I reached the corner of Sachem and Washington before they had crossed the street from Chelsea Parade but they caught and passed me not all far past the Uncas Memorial.

It was as they passed me that I realized the stroller did not have a child within but, rather, a small dog. as I learned when I caught up with the pair at the next corner while they were letting the dog out to answer the call of nature in the shade near The ARC, the small dog was/is actually a seventeen-year-old miniature long-haired dachshund. I'm not good at math, or dogs for that matter, but in light of what I've been told about dog years and aging, the miniature long-haired dachshund was doing well, most especially thanks to its owners.

A block later, as I was crossing the Lafayette on my way to the pharmacy I had to wait for a  sky blue PT Cruiser to roll through the intersection against the light at Washington Street because its driver was in too much of a hurry to stop at the signal and as in the right and righteous as I can be (especially when I'm in the right) I decided to hector and to lecture the operator of two-plus tons of rolling metal enveloping an internal combustion engine on the principles of right of way might not be the best cap to my first week of retirement. 

I noted the PT Cruiser had marker plates from Iowa, actually Dubuque. And I was directly across the street from the William Backus Hospital at which I have been an overnight guest for about three weeks aggregate in the course of the last decade. I had a fleeting vision of what I believe might have have been orange Jello. Message received universe. Looking forward to Week Two.
-bill kenny