New York is not America, nor is this little town in MN I ate my breakfast in on that morning a true representation of all Americans. Yet, I believe only in America could theses conversations have taken place.
The scene is a diner or as they call it out West a Cafe. It is late morning with only 3 customers in the place. The couple at the table in front of me needs to be described as:
He is about 60-65, severely balding, tall fellow with a beer gut and talks with a drawl. He wears a blue Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt. Over that he wears bib jeans along with brown, high-heeled cowboy boots and a trains engineers hat. He could not make a more perfect, ridiculous, Western dressed farmer picture. His speech is slow and drawn out when he talks to me. I found out he drives a truck so I call him the Truck Driver or TD for short.
She is a small woman, about 45 to 50, wears blue jeans and a denim long sleeved shirt and looks very plain. She reminds me of Ms Spiegel across the street with her glasses and kinky hair. Creases in her face add to her plainness. No make up. She is a plain Jane from the West.
She has no great physical assets. Since she seems to be his girl friend I will call her GF.
The next person in the place is:
The waiter/busboy/cashier/ do it all guy serving us. He is 36 yeas old and looks as normal as possible and would make a good FBI agent because he is non-descript and blends in anyplace.
I am the guy with the motorcycle, dressed in full riding gear, helmet and all and just passing trough town.
I only stopped in to eat something, write in my journal and move on. I never met the folks before nor will I ever meet them again. All they left me with is this slice or picture of their life.
Waiter: I just moved to Menahga two weeks ago.
Me: Really?
Waiter: Yeah, she wants a divorce!
I don’t know why but she wants a divorce.
TD: Got more coffee?
Waiter: This is my first marriage.
GF: Milk, honey! Don’t forget the milk.
Waiter: Yeah, I am married for 18 months now
Me: (just nodding at him)
Waiter: We were living together for 14 ½ years before I married her.
Me: long time
Waiter: but she did not want to get married so I married her
Me: your wife?
Waiter: no, my girl friend!
Me: Oh!
Waiter: Yeah, I have 3 kids with her.
GF: I got kids!
TD: your hog outside?
Me: Yes, Sir!
TD: I deliver hogs, for real!
GF: He picks them up at the farms.
TD: (nodding his head and pointing to GF) And She comes with me and sits on my stick shift.
Waiter: She left me and now lives with my best friend.
Me: your wife?
Waiter: No, my girl friend!
Me: Oh!
TD: For real, she sits on my stick; sometimes she even shifts like that.
GF: (smiling) without pants on.
Waiter: One is 16, one is 13 and the other is 9 now.
Me: (smiling at the GF) Really?
Waiter: She wants a divorce, just like that. No warning, just like that.
Me: And the wife?
Waiter: (looking puzzled about my question) she wants a divorce and I don’t know why.
We bought this house and I put over $ 30,000 improvements into it.
Me: lot of money!
TD: last night was my turn
Me: What?
TD: I got her real good.
GF: (nodding)
Waiter: Just like that! We are still married, we are married for 1-½ years now and she wants a divorce. I
Don’t understand why she wants one.
I am a house framer but I insured my shoulder, I can’t do this any more.
TD: Tonight is her turn
Me: her turn?
Waiter: I want to go into the trash business
Sure see a lot of trash around
GF: yes! He will get it tonight, get it real good, I’m ready.
Me: Ready?
TD: She is always ready!
Waiter: Already got a ¾ ton truck!
But I can haul over 3 tons with it.
This job here is only in the morning.
GF: he sure was good last night.
TD: (grinning) I am a man!
Waiter: My friend Tom and I are putting in a new motor.
Heavy duty.
Me: Heavy Duty?
Waiter: Everything is Heavy Duty!
GF: we live in the truck
Me: is this your husband?
GF: NO! But he is good!
TD: Tonight is her turn, we take turns, one night she gets it, then I get it.
Me: could I have some more coffee, please?
Waiter: I don’t know why she wants a divorce.
She wants me to come back to the city but still wants a divorce.
Me: Why?
Waiter: don’t know why she wants a divorce.
I have no idea why she wants a divorce. This is my first marriage.
TD: she gets mad sometimes
GF: and he gets silly.
Waiter: I will never marry again.
Me: Why not?
Waiter: I am not good at it.
TD: the madder she gets the sillier I get!
Waiter: Once I fail that is it. I will never marry again.
I want my money back.
I went back to the city twice and Tom was there. He is my best friend.
He was working on the house now, but I want my money back.
I put over $ 30,000 into the house.
GF: I do everything
Waiter: Everything is in her name but the house is half mine on paper.
Me: half?
TD: (getting up to leave) She does!
GF: We met at a single dance
When he is not around I do it, too.
Waiter: Never again will I marry. I don’t know why she wants a divorce.
Me: How much is it for breakfast?
TD: Enjoyed talking to you, buddy.
How much is the hog rider’s bill?
Waiter: 4.98
GF: put it on our bill, see you all tomorrow.
TD: yeah, it’s your turn tonight, girl.
(Both left)
Waiter: Well, nutty folks around here. Maybe I will move back to the city.
Me: Thank you very much for breakfast! (Leaving the tip on the table top)
Waiter: They’ll pay me next week when he gets paid.
Me: Good-bye!
Waiter: I had a bike once!
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Middlegate, NV
“The loneliest highway in America” it is called. Route 50 crosses Nevada East to West and has very few ‘towns’ along the way. Yes, you feel very alone especially when you travel it at night, like I did. Very few trucks or cars and the temperature at night; even in the summer; is near freezing. Desert living. The day Temp can hit way over 100 Degrees Fahrenheit.
I left Tahoe with a perfect temp of 64 degrees and hit Reno at 94 degrees. I said ‘hit’ because it feels like a heat wave hits you when you climb down the mountains. Finding Rt 50 is easy enough and after Reno, which is busy, you get to be alone. My goal for the day was the town of “ Middlegate.” The map showed it as a small dot and I almost missed it because it turned out to be not a town but just a Country Store, Bar, Filling Station. Historically it must have been a stop on the Pony Express and seems romantic but now it’s butt ugly. Dirty, Filthy! There is nothing around this place for 50 miles in either direction. Only desert greets you; which means heat, shrubs and no water. It is better to be dirty than to be thirsty. Since I did not sleep well last night I called it quits for the day at about 4.30 pm and asked the lady behind the bar for a tent site, thinking to myself, never mind ‘ugly’. She just pointed to the back of the house and said;” anyplace out back is fine” and took my money. I filled up ‘Emil’ with gas and drove around back and saw …a dump! Wow, hard to believe people can live like that. An old guy in a woolen red plaid shirt, broken but taped together glasses, yes wearing a necktie, too was playing a chess game with himself. I asked him if it would be ok to set up my tent under the few and sparse cottonwood trees and he turned out to be very verbal and polite. Something is wrong with him, however.
I set up my tent next to a 3-man construction crew working on putting in big fence posts into the ground. I made sure to be under a tree so that I get some shade. The workers did not mind. In fact they totally disregarded me as if I did not exist. All of the workers wore huge hats, jeans and boots, showing off their big belt buckles. Good old boys of the American West and the way they work showed they knew how to put in fences. I asked the old guy if they would work all night long when they started cutting limps off the trees using chain saws. At one time they were that close to my tent that I actually moved it so falling branches would not hit it. The racket of noise was unbelievable. He calmly replied: “only until it gets dark, then they will quit.” “Is this a peaceful afternoon in the desert” I thought to myself. How bad can it get? The noise level is tremendous. I believe the chain saw is without any kind of muffler and the way the guys handled the saw showed they had no clue on how to cut tree limps. A butcher would have done better. Why cut perfectly good tree limps of trees? Especially here in the desert; where shade is of prime importance. I asked this out loud and the old man asked me calmly if I would want to play a game of chess. He just sat there and was calm as anything, looking at me thru his broken/fixed glasses that sat crooked on his nose. I felt sorry for him and agreed to just one game. To make it more interesting I asked him if we could play for a glass of cold water or a can of soda for the winner. He reluctantly agreed. It has been years since I played chess and I just knew he played all the time, either against himself or with whomever he could play with. I tried my best and of course, lost the game. The noise level of the crew did not help with my concentration. Imagine sitting under a tree playing chess when 3 guys around you are trimming branches and you hear falling timber all around you. Ok, maybe that is an excuse and maybe this old man was better in chess. He sure was better in being calm and collected. We moved into the Bar/Restaurant out front and I ordered a Burger for each of us. Big as wagon wheels with French Fries and a cold drink made for a good start and we talked, this old man and I. He was from Upstate NY and his car broke down right here in the backyard of the only place within 50 miles. I was careful not to ask questions since I sensed he would clam up. His shirt was torn; he was dirty and needed a bath real bad; I could smell him across the table. He was 75 years old his mind was sharp and his outlook on life was quit different than mine. He liked Hitler and thought he was a good man but things went wrong for him. He liked many of Hitler’s ideas but of course did not like the things Hitler is known for. Look at the world with your eyes he said to me, forget what the media feeds you. Think for yourself. Take a look at issues in the press with open eyes. Live in the desert and think. Don’t let little things bother you. Believe in your self, in your own judgments. You know what is right instinctively and you know what feels wrong. Listen to yourself.
I found he had a good memory, very sharp and could remember Numbers especially well.
He could not finish his burger and packed it up in his napkins and took it with him to his car. He slept in his car. The car was full of ‘stuff’ much of which looked like junk.
The chain saw had ceased and it was now near 9 pm. Tired from the day I crawled into my tent and noticed immediately that when I moved the tent, I moved it next to the outhouse. The smell intensified somehow at night and to top it off, the bar now had the generator running.
The lights were on and the generator must have kicked in and of course ran without stop. Outhouse smell and Diesel noise, Great !
Don’t let little things bother you…. kept ringing in my ear.
I tried and actually slept for a few hours but then at 3 am I had had it.
I packed in the pitch dark of a moonless night and in temperatures of 43 degrees and rode out of ‘town.’ At night Rt 50 is really ‘lonely’. Just a very few trucks are on the road and the temperature dropped to 39 degrees. With the driving speed of 70 miles an hour the temperature is even colder. Heated grips, heated seats or not, it is cold. Pitch dark and eerie. Make one mistake while riding and you are history.
The next town, Austin, is 50 miles away and at 4.30 am nothing is open. No coffee shop, nothing. The town is not big so on I go to Eureka and here I find, at an unholy early hour an open coffee shop.
While resting up, warming up and tanking up the gas tank, too I am thinking back to this old man, now still sleeping in his car, I guess.
Think for yourself, live your own life. Disregard what others tell you to do. Stay calm. Listen to yourself. Believe in yourself. All that is still chiming in my ears and mind.I am going east, towards Utah.
I left Tahoe with a perfect temp of 64 degrees and hit Reno at 94 degrees. I said ‘hit’ because it feels like a heat wave hits you when you climb down the mountains. Finding Rt 50 is easy enough and after Reno, which is busy, you get to be alone. My goal for the day was the town of “ Middlegate.” The map showed it as a small dot and I almost missed it because it turned out to be not a town but just a Country Store, Bar, Filling Station. Historically it must have been a stop on the Pony Express and seems romantic but now it’s butt ugly. Dirty, Filthy! There is nothing around this place for 50 miles in either direction. Only desert greets you; which means heat, shrubs and no water. It is better to be dirty than to be thirsty. Since I did not sleep well last night I called it quits for the day at about 4.30 pm and asked the lady behind the bar for a tent site, thinking to myself, never mind ‘ugly’. She just pointed to the back of the house and said;” anyplace out back is fine” and took my money. I filled up ‘Emil’ with gas and drove around back and saw …a dump! Wow, hard to believe people can live like that. An old guy in a woolen red plaid shirt, broken but taped together glasses, yes wearing a necktie, too was playing a chess game with himself. I asked him if it would be ok to set up my tent under the few and sparse cottonwood trees and he turned out to be very verbal and polite. Something is wrong with him, however.
I set up my tent next to a 3-man construction crew working on putting in big fence posts into the ground. I made sure to be under a tree so that I get some shade. The workers did not mind. In fact they totally disregarded me as if I did not exist. All of the workers wore huge hats, jeans and boots, showing off their big belt buckles. Good old boys of the American West and the way they work showed they knew how to put in fences. I asked the old guy if they would work all night long when they started cutting limps off the trees using chain saws. At one time they were that close to my tent that I actually moved it so falling branches would not hit it. The racket of noise was unbelievable. He calmly replied: “only until it gets dark, then they will quit.” “Is this a peaceful afternoon in the desert” I thought to myself. How bad can it get? The noise level is tremendous. I believe the chain saw is without any kind of muffler and the way the guys handled the saw showed they had no clue on how to cut tree limps. A butcher would have done better. Why cut perfectly good tree limps of trees? Especially here in the desert; where shade is of prime importance. I asked this out loud and the old man asked me calmly if I would want to play a game of chess. He just sat there and was calm as anything, looking at me thru his broken/fixed glasses that sat crooked on his nose. I felt sorry for him and agreed to just one game. To make it more interesting I asked him if we could play for a glass of cold water or a can of soda for the winner. He reluctantly agreed. It has been years since I played chess and I just knew he played all the time, either against himself or with whomever he could play with. I tried my best and of course, lost the game. The noise level of the crew did not help with my concentration. Imagine sitting under a tree playing chess when 3 guys around you are trimming branches and you hear falling timber all around you. Ok, maybe that is an excuse and maybe this old man was better in chess. He sure was better in being calm and collected. We moved into the Bar/Restaurant out front and I ordered a Burger for each of us. Big as wagon wheels with French Fries and a cold drink made for a good start and we talked, this old man and I. He was from Upstate NY and his car broke down right here in the backyard of the only place within 50 miles. I was careful not to ask questions since I sensed he would clam up. His shirt was torn; he was dirty and needed a bath real bad; I could smell him across the table. He was 75 years old his mind was sharp and his outlook on life was quit different than mine. He liked Hitler and thought he was a good man but things went wrong for him. He liked many of Hitler’s ideas but of course did not like the things Hitler is known for. Look at the world with your eyes he said to me, forget what the media feeds you. Think for yourself. Take a look at issues in the press with open eyes. Live in the desert and think. Don’t let little things bother you. Believe in your self, in your own judgments. You know what is right instinctively and you know what feels wrong. Listen to yourself.
I found he had a good memory, very sharp and could remember Numbers especially well.
He could not finish his burger and packed it up in his napkins and took it with him to his car. He slept in his car. The car was full of ‘stuff’ much of which looked like junk.
The chain saw had ceased and it was now near 9 pm. Tired from the day I crawled into my tent and noticed immediately that when I moved the tent, I moved it next to the outhouse. The smell intensified somehow at night and to top it off, the bar now had the generator running.
The lights were on and the generator must have kicked in and of course ran without stop. Outhouse smell and Diesel noise, Great !
Don’t let little things bother you…. kept ringing in my ear.
I tried and actually slept for a few hours but then at 3 am I had had it.
I packed in the pitch dark of a moonless night and in temperatures of 43 degrees and rode out of ‘town.’ At night Rt 50 is really ‘lonely’. Just a very few trucks are on the road and the temperature dropped to 39 degrees. With the driving speed of 70 miles an hour the temperature is even colder. Heated grips, heated seats or not, it is cold. Pitch dark and eerie. Make one mistake while riding and you are history.
The next town, Austin, is 50 miles away and at 4.30 am nothing is open. No coffee shop, nothing. The town is not big so on I go to Eureka and here I find, at an unholy early hour an open coffee shop.
While resting up, warming up and tanking up the gas tank, too I am thinking back to this old man, now still sleeping in his car, I guess.
Think for yourself, live your own life. Disregard what others tell you to do. Stay calm. Listen to yourself. Believe in yourself. All that is still chiming in my ears and mind.I am going east, towards Utah.
Friday, December 17, 2004
Emergency
For Dentist in Fargo, ND, call 701-237-4331
Sleep fails me. Cold drinks make me cringe. Hot food is a torture. Riding is not fun anymore.
I have a toothache! Throbbing toothache! I can feel the blood pulse thru my tooth!
Easy you say? Go see a dentist?
Friend, let me tell you my story!
Despite my regular brushing, seeing the dentist 8 weeks ago and getting an all clear I am now in the not so populated State of North Dakota. I did not know that the West has a shortage of Dentists but I found out. I walked into the offices of a dentist in Menahga, MN but found a no mercy receptionist. “ We are booked out for weeks and without an appointment we just can not help you” is what she said.
Next appointment was in 3 weeks.
On to the bike and next stop, I am sure they have a dentist, is Fargo, ND. Sure Fargo has a dentist. The first Dentist I found is booked for weeks in advance and no, they do not know of any other dentist that can help either. A friendly smile and I am out the door again. Pain is throbbing and I am getting desperate. What do I do?
Phone book will help, I thought. Well, with everybody having cell phones it is not easy finding phone books anymore. Even the Post Office did not have one. I asked the postal clerk if she knows of a dentist and by just looking at her I knew the answer. She had not seen a dentist in years and it showed in her smile. Back in the street I just talked to a passing woman and she pointed me to a dentist she knows.
How relieved I felt. What luck I have!
Finding the Street and the office was an adventure but I found it. Walked in and “ we are so sorry, but we are booked out. We can make an appointment for you and you can come back in about 2 weeks. Would you like an appointment?” The blood is throbbing in my tooth and I just smile. “ No thank you, madam!” I need a dentist NOW is all I can think of. What do I do? I never heard of going to the emergency room with a toothache but I thought about it. Just one more try before I seek out the next town. Back I march into the dentist office with a pleading face. I understand, madam, you cannot take me but I have a toothache, severe toothache. Can you refer me to anybody that could help? How can I get rid of the pain? Her face turns very indignant, I wear motorcycle cloths and the dirt from being 6 weeks on the road, and living in a tent must show itself. I just smile! She must think of me as ‘undesirable.” Or maybe even, God forbid, a rough rider? A hoodlum? But I keep on smiling and as luck has it; the dentist, who just walked in, interrupts the receptionist by saying: “There is a new Dr in town”.
The new Dr. just graduated from Dental School and is trying to establish himself in Fargo. For anybody going to Fargo, Nicholas C. Dorsher, DDS is a good dentist. Without much to do he had me in his office. Performed root canal work and even so I had to come back the next day, I was rid of the pain. Good thing is he takes Visa Card payments, too.
With all the planning and precautions one takes to go on a long trip, Emergencies happen.And even so there are plenty of folks around one needs to find one that can and is willing to help. I wish you all a good trip and don’t get a toothache on the road.
Sleep fails me. Cold drinks make me cringe. Hot food is a torture. Riding is not fun anymore.
I have a toothache! Throbbing toothache! I can feel the blood pulse thru my tooth!
Easy you say? Go see a dentist?
Friend, let me tell you my story!
Despite my regular brushing, seeing the dentist 8 weeks ago and getting an all clear I am now in the not so populated State of North Dakota. I did not know that the West has a shortage of Dentists but I found out. I walked into the offices of a dentist in Menahga, MN but found a no mercy receptionist. “ We are booked out for weeks and without an appointment we just can not help you” is what she said.
Next appointment was in 3 weeks.
On to the bike and next stop, I am sure they have a dentist, is Fargo, ND. Sure Fargo has a dentist. The first Dentist I found is booked for weeks in advance and no, they do not know of any other dentist that can help either. A friendly smile and I am out the door again. Pain is throbbing and I am getting desperate. What do I do?
Phone book will help, I thought. Well, with everybody having cell phones it is not easy finding phone books anymore. Even the Post Office did not have one. I asked the postal clerk if she knows of a dentist and by just looking at her I knew the answer. She had not seen a dentist in years and it showed in her smile. Back in the street I just talked to a passing woman and she pointed me to a dentist she knows.
How relieved I felt. What luck I have!
Finding the Street and the office was an adventure but I found it. Walked in and “ we are so sorry, but we are booked out. We can make an appointment for you and you can come back in about 2 weeks. Would you like an appointment?” The blood is throbbing in my tooth and I just smile. “ No thank you, madam!” I need a dentist NOW is all I can think of. What do I do? I never heard of going to the emergency room with a toothache but I thought about it. Just one more try before I seek out the next town. Back I march into the dentist office with a pleading face. I understand, madam, you cannot take me but I have a toothache, severe toothache. Can you refer me to anybody that could help? How can I get rid of the pain? Her face turns very indignant, I wear motorcycle cloths and the dirt from being 6 weeks on the road, and living in a tent must show itself. I just smile! She must think of me as ‘undesirable.” Or maybe even, God forbid, a rough rider? A hoodlum? But I keep on smiling and as luck has it; the dentist, who just walked in, interrupts the receptionist by saying: “There is a new Dr in town”.
The new Dr. just graduated from Dental School and is trying to establish himself in Fargo. For anybody going to Fargo, Nicholas C. Dorsher, DDS is a good dentist. Without much to do he had me in his office. Performed root canal work and even so I had to come back the next day, I was rid of the pain. Good thing is he takes Visa Card payments, too.
With all the planning and precautions one takes to go on a long trip, Emergencies happen.And even so there are plenty of folks around one needs to find one that can and is willing to help. I wish you all a good trip and don’t get a toothache on the road.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Going Postal
‘Everybody should take a walk to the Post Office’ is what I thought this Monday morning while delivering the books I sold on Amazon. The weather was cold and fresh and I was overdressed and I actually steamed a little walking the 4o minutes it takes to walk to town. I did not have my ears in which made it very peaceful and quiet. I actually like not being able to hear the high pitches the world creates. Yes, I can hear but not the high frequencies. Job related? Environmentally damaged? No matter, I believe it’s a God send.
Walking along the road, we have no sidewalks; I could not help but see the ‘modern’ society in full bloom.
Drivers are whooshing past me. The cars are passing way too close for comfort. Many drivers are on the phone. Some drink their coffee and eat breakfast while driving. No time! Putting on make up for the gals while driving? Yes, I’ve seen that this morning, too. No time to do this at home, right? I was glad it was a clear day and I wore an orange jacket. It is dangerous walking in rural, small town NJ. Walking along the roads in towns without sidewalks is worse then riding my motorcycle. I felt safer yesterday, while riding the same road; than I felt today while walking. Is walking along “non-side walked”
roads more dangerous then riding a motorcycle? Would the insurance company insure me if they found out I actually walked on the side of the road? All that is now part of life, the modern life. I believe it is typical American now. No time! Time is a precious commodity. Multitasking is in! Doing 3 things at once is expected! Cover your ass, literally!
What did irk me is the trash along the way. The health conscious throw the plastic water bottles out the window. Damn the person who has to pick it up. She gets paid, right? The not so conscious, the smokers, throw cigarette butts and packs to join the bottles. An assortment of coke cans, papers, straws, coffee cups, fast food containers and plastic shopping bags make up the not so pretty picture. Mind you, our town residents employ a lot of landscapers or gardeners, but even so these folks get paid to make the grounds beautiful, it looks like hell. The house owner has no time to even walk around his property. He hires people to care for the lawn, to clean up while he makes money to pay for it all. He has to hurry up and make those dates. He might miss something important.
He eats his breakfast in the car. She puts on her make up. No time! Throw out the stuff not needed. Just open the car window and hive it. No time! Walking? Are you kidding?
I need to go to the health spa to work off the holiday fat and I am overdue paying my dues. Let me go! Don’t talk to me! I am in a hurry! Need to make money. Watch out! What is this stupid guy doing walking along the side of the road? Would you believe that? He is actually walking to the post office. From far way, in pictures, or driving past it at whooshing speed all seems ok. I suggest everybody should take a walk to the post office, maybe then they would go Postal, too
Walking along the road, we have no sidewalks; I could not help but see the ‘modern’ society in full bloom.
Drivers are whooshing past me. The cars are passing way too close for comfort. Many drivers are on the phone. Some drink their coffee and eat breakfast while driving. No time! Putting on make up for the gals while driving? Yes, I’ve seen that this morning, too. No time to do this at home, right? I was glad it was a clear day and I wore an orange jacket. It is dangerous walking in rural, small town NJ. Walking along the roads in towns without sidewalks is worse then riding my motorcycle. I felt safer yesterday, while riding the same road; than I felt today while walking. Is walking along “non-side walked”
roads more dangerous then riding a motorcycle? Would the insurance company insure me if they found out I actually walked on the side of the road? All that is now part of life, the modern life. I believe it is typical American now. No time! Time is a precious commodity. Multitasking is in! Doing 3 things at once is expected! Cover your ass, literally!
What did irk me is the trash along the way. The health conscious throw the plastic water bottles out the window. Damn the person who has to pick it up. She gets paid, right? The not so conscious, the smokers, throw cigarette butts and packs to join the bottles. An assortment of coke cans, papers, straws, coffee cups, fast food containers and plastic shopping bags make up the not so pretty picture. Mind you, our town residents employ a lot of landscapers or gardeners, but even so these folks get paid to make the grounds beautiful, it looks like hell. The house owner has no time to even walk around his property. He hires people to care for the lawn, to clean up while he makes money to pay for it all. He has to hurry up and make those dates. He might miss something important.
He eats his breakfast in the car. She puts on her make up. No time! Throw out the stuff not needed. Just open the car window and hive it. No time! Walking? Are you kidding?
I need to go to the health spa to work off the holiday fat and I am overdue paying my dues. Let me go! Don’t talk to me! I am in a hurry! Need to make money. Watch out! What is this stupid guy doing walking along the side of the road? Would you believe that? He is actually walking to the post office. From far way, in pictures, or driving past it at whooshing speed all seems ok. I suggest everybody should take a walk to the post office, maybe then they would go Postal, too
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