pickup football
May. 6th, 2005 05:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7A vignette: our house is located across a little street from the playing fields of a boys' Catholic high school. By which I mean, there are no houses on the other side, just the bleachers for the football. So it's right there. I've mentioned how I laugh at the lacrosse players while I eat at my dinette table.
The little Catholic boys are playing a game of pickup football. One team has white shirts. The other team has black shirts. Hence the Whites versus the Blacks. Cute. (I think they're almost all white boys, in that school.)
Dave is in the driveway, soldering wires in his dashboard so that he can connect his hands-free cellphone device to his stereo. (Solder is manlier than buying an adaptor.)
This involves concentrating deeply and sticking a very hot object onto a live wire between several pieces of meltable plastic. Dave's wedged into his tiny car at an odd angle with this hot metal thing, and is trying very hard not to screw up.
Behind him, the teams each have a huddle. The black team shouts something inspirational in unison.
The white team finishes with its huddle. Dave is concentrating deeply.
In unison, a dozen teenage boys yell, "White power!"
Miraculously, Dave didn't burn himself or melt his car. But he came directly in to tell me about it.
edited to add: another vignette.
Sitting in my room on my bed. I look up at movement in the hallway. There is a black and white long-haired cat there, looking underhanded and sneaky. He knows this isn't his territory. I look at him. He notices me and freezes. "Hey, you," I say. Sheepish, he flees, and I follow him. He goes out the front door, which I remember I have propped open to let the breeze in because I haven't yet put up the screens. This is the cat, evidently, that leaves footprints all over Dave's car. And poops in our snowbanks.
In other news, we took a long bike ride, quite a very long one actually, and it was a lot of fun and this time I managed not to spend the entire time staring at cracks in the pavement and thinking "If I fall I am so going to knock every one of my expensive teeth out of my head." (Distracting thoughts, when one is without health insurance, and by this point it's pretty well ingrained, as I've been without the stuff for a bit over 18 months now. I am eligible now at work, tho'.) "Or maybe break a wrist. That would suck. Could I do my job with one hand?" Anyhow. I did look at the pretty flowers, and enjoy the ride. We stopped down by the lake in Delaware Park just across from the Albright Knox, and quietly made snarky comments about the pasty underdressed Buffalonians sunning themselves.
Then we were coming home and I didn't feel tired enough so we did the two-mile loop in the golf course section of Delaware Park. (It's a big Olmsted park, so there's a lot of random stuff in it, gorgeously landscaped.) That was tiring enough, and Dave said his legs were like noodles. I got laughed at by a dude on a touring bike going about 30 up the long heartbreaking hill.
So we rode out past the buffalo pen of the Zoo (there's a zoo in the park too, did I mention?), and on the way home stopped off at Hanna's Frosty Treats and got ice cream. And snarked at the people there. There was a Cadillac at the light, chromed and gilded, and across the windshield it said "playa". So I immediately read it as the Spanish word for "beach". "Maybe he's a surfer dude," I said, nodding at the car. "Vamos a la playa!" "Si!" Dave said, and we both shut up when the dude parked and got out because he was bigger than either of us.
We also saw the Most Emo Boy Ever. He was a grade schooler, maybe twelve, and was walking by with his friend whose hair was dyed black. Both were wearing baggy shorts with chains. His hair was undyed but was styled with glue into spikes. He was... carrying a potted pansy in his hands.
Right: must go buy electrical tape and sausages. In that order.
another edit: Went out to collect Dave for tape and sausage buying and... he's gone, and so is the car. I guess I won't be buying any sausages. Or electrical tape. He's been gone 45 minutes at least, so I've no idea where he went. Most odd.
The little Catholic boys are playing a game of pickup football. One team has white shirts. The other team has black shirts. Hence the Whites versus the Blacks. Cute. (I think they're almost all white boys, in that school.)
Dave is in the driveway, soldering wires in his dashboard so that he can connect his hands-free cellphone device to his stereo. (Solder is manlier than buying an adaptor.)
This involves concentrating deeply and sticking a very hot object onto a live wire between several pieces of meltable plastic. Dave's wedged into his tiny car at an odd angle with this hot metal thing, and is trying very hard not to screw up.
Behind him, the teams each have a huddle. The black team shouts something inspirational in unison.
The white team finishes with its huddle. Dave is concentrating deeply.
In unison, a dozen teenage boys yell, "White power!"
Miraculously, Dave didn't burn himself or melt his car. But he came directly in to tell me about it.
edited to add: another vignette.
Sitting in my room on my bed. I look up at movement in the hallway. There is a black and white long-haired cat there, looking underhanded and sneaky. He knows this isn't his territory. I look at him. He notices me and freezes. "Hey, you," I say. Sheepish, he flees, and I follow him. He goes out the front door, which I remember I have propped open to let the breeze in because I haven't yet put up the screens. This is the cat, evidently, that leaves footprints all over Dave's car. And poops in our snowbanks.
In other news, we took a long bike ride, quite a very long one actually, and it was a lot of fun and this time I managed not to spend the entire time staring at cracks in the pavement and thinking "If I fall I am so going to knock every one of my expensive teeth out of my head." (Distracting thoughts, when one is without health insurance, and by this point it's pretty well ingrained, as I've been without the stuff for a bit over 18 months now. I am eligible now at work, tho'.) "Or maybe break a wrist. That would suck. Could I do my job with one hand?" Anyhow. I did look at the pretty flowers, and enjoy the ride. We stopped down by the lake in Delaware Park just across from the Albright Knox, and quietly made snarky comments about the pasty underdressed Buffalonians sunning themselves.
Then we were coming home and I didn't feel tired enough so we did the two-mile loop in the golf course section of Delaware Park. (It's a big Olmsted park, so there's a lot of random stuff in it, gorgeously landscaped.) That was tiring enough, and Dave said his legs were like noodles. I got laughed at by a dude on a touring bike going about 30 up the long heartbreaking hill.
So we rode out past the buffalo pen of the Zoo (there's a zoo in the park too, did I mention?), and on the way home stopped off at Hanna's Frosty Treats and got ice cream. And snarked at the people there. There was a Cadillac at the light, chromed and gilded, and across the windshield it said "playa". So I immediately read it as the Spanish word for "beach". "Maybe he's a surfer dude," I said, nodding at the car. "Vamos a la playa!" "Si!" Dave said, and we both shut up when the dude parked and got out because he was bigger than either of us.
We also saw the Most Emo Boy Ever. He was a grade schooler, maybe twelve, and was walking by with his friend whose hair was dyed black. Both were wearing baggy shorts with chains. His hair was undyed but was styled with glue into spikes. He was... carrying a potted pansy in his hands.
Right: must go buy electrical tape and sausages. In that order.
another edit: Went out to collect Dave for tape and sausage buying and... he's gone, and so is the car. I guess I won't be buying any sausages. Or electrical tape. He's been gone 45 minutes at least, so I've no idea where he went. Most odd.
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no subject
Date: 2005-05-07 12:16 am (UTC)I laughed when I read this. I mean, being without health insurance is not funny, but man, I'm so glad I'm not the only one who has these kinds of paranoid thoughts all the time. :p
no subject
Date: 2005-05-07 12:48 am (UTC)It's very tiring.
I don't even worry about whether it will hurt. I just freak out because I know whatever it is that I won't be able to pay to get it fixed.