In the details

It's a couple of days (less than 48 hours) before I take of for the FIMAV in Victoriaville. Taking care of last minute details gives me a rash... what am I forgetting this time... census, curling iron, cats on fire (got to put 'em out). Do people stay on top of the little things like getting haircuts and putting out the recycling on time? I feel like I used to. But now... well it's more conscious, that's for sure.

Marc B., James and I are taking a route through Maine, Vermont and New Hampshire to get to our respective destinations... I've never done this drive before. Scenery is one of my favourite things to look at.

Things have been pretty laid back whilst house-sitting. My only bit of heart acceleration came mid-late last week, walking to work. My route is down Reid to Albert and across the top of the Middle School sports field over to York and down again. I was cutting the corner onto York, which has a fairly steep 5-6 foot dip down to the sidewalk. A black dog three or four houses down the street across York was barking frantically at me even before I got to the corner. Stupid dog, I grumbled, especially after seeing he was safely tied up. When I got to the very top of the decline I saw that not me, but a full-on bushy tailed skunk was what had the dog so excited. I sucked in air and backed up slowly but deliberately, crossed over Albert to the opposite corner and crossed there. I gave the, now obviously, smart dog a big thumbs up on the way by.

At work, other than the usual springtime cavalcade of phone calls by people who've discovered records in their basement and think they've solved their money woes for 2006... only slight irritations, annoyances, and opportunities to be amused have occured. To whit:

Two young men (15-17... who can tell?) browsing the store. The blonde one is a "regular," but the type of regular who comes in twice a month, never buys anything but always asks for "rare" Nirvana stuff (vinyl, singles, imports) or K. Cobain endorsed things like Vaselines, Daniel Johnston, Teenage Fanclub, etc. When confronted with any of the things he so desperately desires he either "has it" or will "pick it up later." Later of course means never, though a great show of disappointment is made when he comes in three weeks later to find the Nirvana single sold. But I digress.

His friend, a first time customer, I think, has a Slayer CD and a copy of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon on a Japanese label. Here's how this goes:

He: This says it's Japanese.

Me: Yes.

He: Does that mean it's translated in Japanese?

Me: No... it's on a Japanese label.

He: So they put it out in Japan?

Me: Yes. The Japanese love to rock.

He: [furrowed brow] But it's not in Japanese?

Me: No.

He: [putting CDs on the counter] Are you looking for any work here?

Me: [piecing it together] Ahhh... I don't have to look, I have work here.

He: You Do have work here?

Me: I have work here. Were YOU looking for work here?

He: Yeah... yeah.

Me: Sorry, we're not hiring.

He: Oh well, thought it would be better than working at Ponderosa.

and SCENE.