Before I went out, I thought it was going to rain because I kept heaing thunder, but it turned out to be a couple of groups of high school (?) drum lines out in the park. Didn't know what it was all about at first, but let me tell you, I LOVE drumlines. Nothing quite like them for that sort of flippy feeling down in your gut. Of course, I might not like it much as the year progresses--Boy has decided he wants to take Band in middle school this year, and he wants to play the drums. Oh boy, Boy.
Walked on across to the park and spotted the first of TWO 240 Volvos. It's very odd, you know--you just don't expect to see them, and then you see two parked within a half-block of each other.
Walked on around, crossed Park Place, nearly got hit by both a car AND a bicycle, walked on down the sidewalk and found that the cover on the sidewalk elevator outside Park Place Tower had been spray-painted a hideous, streaky yellow color. Yes, a much better idea to slap an ugly coat of paint on it than to replace the warped doors that are causing the trip hazard in the first place. ANYway, the odd thing wasn't really the paint, it was the abandoned office chair beside it. As with most secretarial chairs, the back was off, and had been neatly placed onto the seat. I tell you what, if someone could come up with a break-proof secretarial chair back, he'd make a fortune. At least until the new chair market dried up because no one was breaking them. ANYWAY, the most strange thing to me is why they put it out on the sidewalk. Why not just put it in the junk room? Why not call the office furniture place to come get it? Are they trying to give the bums something to get around in? If so, it's not working.
On to the bank to pay the house note, and for once the wait wasn't so long that I started having those weird fantasies (mostly), and after I completed the bank account draining procedure, I went on to get some lunch.
Milo's today--some nice hot chicken. As I was standing in line, I noticed yet another peculiarity. One of the food court cleaning staff, a lady with a small broom and swiveling-dustpan-on-a-stick, threw down a couple of paper napkins she had in her hand onto the floor. "That's odd," I thought. Not nearly so much as her next move, though, which was to put the dustpan on the floor and neatly sweep the paper into it.
All the while, standing right next to a trash receptacle.
It is a mystery.
Got my food, made my way back out to the street, and back to the park, where I finally got a glimpse, between the teevee crews, of a sign that said the drum corps were part of an (apparently un-parade-permitted) SCLC rally of some sort. "Stop the Violence! Increase the Peace!" which is a good sentiment, but still, a message that might bave been better conveyed through something like flutes and triangles and violins. But, you know how I am.
Walked on around on Short 20th, where the police had finally arrived to direct traffic, and fell in behind a lady who works in the building. We got to the front door at the same time and walked into the elevator together, and she mentioned that she wondered what was going on outside in the park. "Oh," said me, "it's an SCLC rally of some sort, and they had some kids with their drumline out there."
"S.E.L.E.?"
She had no idea what I was talking about. Probably ten years older than me, working HERE, in this town, and she'd never heard of them.
"Uh, yeah, the 'SCLC'--Southern Christian Leadership Conference? They're in town this week for a meeting?" She still had no idea who I was talking about.
It's a very strange world. Thankfully, the chicken was quite tasty.
Posted by Terry Oglesby at August 1, 2005 01:11 PM