I used to be addicted to playing pinball machines.  I would be coming home from collecting money from my paper route customers.  It was 42 cents for a week of newspaper delivery and many of my customers would give me two quarters and tell me to keep the change so I often would have a pocket full of change, particularly quarters.  Before I went home, I would often play pinball at the local candy store.  That is what you called them back in those days.  You know it was a long time ago.  Playing a game of pinball only cost a quarter.  And not only that you got five balls per game.  Today one game costs 50 cents and you only get three balls.  Inflation, indeed!  Of course the days of five balls per game and a quarter each game go back almost fifty years.  I am dating myself.  I, also, remember when gasoline was 33 cents a gallon.  All those days are long gone.  Of course, those days you made a whole lot less a week.  In 1970, I made an $100 a week and thought that was a lot.  Then tickets to the Fillmore East were $3.50, $4.50 and $5.50.  Those were the days.

My Four Dogs

Author: siggy

I have four dogs and I have a special relationship with each one and I know I have written about all of them but bear with me.  There is “Pax”, a Rottweiler mix, who I have known for over eight years.  He came with my wife.  He lumbers down the yard and has his favorite corner where he will bark at anyone who has the temerity to pass by.  He is the most vocal of the four.  He looks at me with a bemused expression and loves bread.  He is a bagel thief.  Leave one nearby and if you are not careful he will slip it away and gobble it down before you know it.  I like teasing him by pulling his tail.  He will bark at me in retaliation but I do it anyway.  He does not move too quickly any more and I have stepped on him accidentally too many times.  He now instinctively moves out of the way when I walk nearby.  He is a scary looking dog but has never bitten anyone.

There is my favorite — “Tilla”.  This morning he came into my bedroom and jumped on the bed to greet me.  He is the smartest dog I have and also the most athletic one:  we had to build our large wooden picket fence higher for he was the only one that could jump over it.  He has gotten into the most trouble.  We did have one visit from the local dog warden after he got out once and harassed the neighbor ‘s dog.  He is a midsized black dog with a barrel chest.  He usually does not take his eyes off of me.  He is the only one I have taken walks with.  I will write about the other two later.

It is always about the music.  I could never understand music collectors who have thousands and thousands of pieces of music (LP’s, cassettes , CD’s, etc).  How you store the music in an accessible fashion is another question.  There is a point your collection becomes unwieldy.  I never collected for the sake of collecting.  It was always about the music.  Each person has the same limitations:  you can only play one piece of music at one time.  Besides when you have too much music too much becomes undiscovered or underplayed.  The best music gets played over and over.  My collection is always about the music.

There is always another book around the corner.  Sometimes I don’t know where they come from although I always remember who I “borrowed” a book from.  There is no lack of interesting books although you can become a dilettante and only sample a book here or there and only get a narrow picture of what the author wanted to convey.  There are some books, though, that are meant to be read that way.  Open up the book anywhere and start reading.  Novels obviously have to be read from cover to cover although I have no compunction to stop reading it if it does not keep my attention.  I enjoy a good story and am partial to animal’s stories:  authors who describe their special relationships to animals.  My office has my favorite books and special books that are marked up that I would never lend to anyone.  They are like “old friends” to me and I want them at my disposal if I need to refer to them.  I can not see how much an I Pad can possibly replace my library and there is nothing like leafing through a book and then another.  I like touching a book and turning pages and opening it anywhere.  There is always an interesting book around the corner.

I believe it was last Saturday.  We were driving down our road and we spotted a hawk perched high on a tree on our left.  My wife wanted a second look so we turned around and stopped our car at that spot.  The hawk soon after flew away.  It could not tolerate our presence.  My wife saw the red on its tail as it flew away.  It was a red tailed hawk and a juvenile (less than a year old according to my bird book).  Then we got on the main high way along the River and my wife saw two bald eagles soaring high in the sky.  I was disappointed.  I had never seen two at once but only spotted one.  It was a fruitful day birdwatching.  I like surprises and new bird discoveries.

In a short time–twenty seconds–I saw a Carolina wren, a brown creeper, the ubiquitous titmouse and a red bellied woodpecker–all from my window.  They were feeding on the birdseed I put out on the ground plus the suet cake placed next to the trunk of my large white pine tree.  The woodpecker took a chunk of fat from the suet cake and disappeared.  I could never understand why it is called a red bellied woodpecker.  The red is on its head not its belly.  It is a big magnificent woodpecker I never saw before I started putting out suet cakes regularly.

The small sized downy woodpeckers are more frequent visitors than the red bellied woodpeckers.  Sometimes you can see two or three downy woodpeckers at one time although they maintain their space between each other.  They march up and down the pine tree stiffly like they are at attention.  The Carolina wren is a big wren as far as wrens goes–maybe the biggest and feeds on the ground as well at the suet.

The brown creeper is a nondescript little brown bird with a curved beak that does just that creep up and down the trunk of the pine tree.  It occasionally can be found on the ground but usually is found on the trunk of the tree going up and down the tree.  Of the four birds, it comes here the least.  These birds mentioned can be found here all year around.

Every once in awhile I spot a new bird and become excited.  The latest was a red-cockaded woodpecker that came every day for a few days although I saw no red on it.  It took several visits before I could make a positive identification.  It is a midsized woodpecker between the size of a downy and red bellied woodpecker.  I had never seen one before.  Watching birds from my large living room window gives me much pleasure.

To me it is a mystery why one plant blooms and the other four don’t.  There are five plants in that primrose bed and only one has flowers.  From experience I know they may bloom twice a year early spring and late fall.  I really don’t know why only one is blooming now.  It may be the light is just right.  I am only guessing.  I keep checking those plants.  At some point it will be too cold even for them.  The leaves will die and it will come up next spring.  Then I can enjoy them, again.

You don’t know how important your freedom is until it is taken away.  That is the one thing my friend would desire more than anything at all–his freedom.  Presently, he is in jail and has none.  I was never in jail but I do have some idea how it feels to have your freedom taken away.  When I was in an hospital, I had my freedom taken away so I know how it feels.  My friend does not have too much materially but that is the one thing–your freedom that you can’t put a price tag on until you lose it.

I keep checking the bed of primroses we have.  One plant is about to bloom a third yellow flower.  The other four plants do not have any buds but I keep checking them periodically.  Having flowers in 35 degree temperatures is a real treat as opposed to spring and summer when everything seems to be into bloom.  I will enjoy that budding plant today realizing how precious and rare it is.

“Coco”, my adult female “pup” was cute.  “Coco” is a midsized long-haired black dog (about eighty pounds).  She was quietly and comfortably sitting on my wife’s Lazy Boy chair cradling her eight inch bone to her chest.  No one was going to take it away.  I just smiled looking at her.  She was all female sitting there so demurely.  When she wants her belly rubbed, she rolls slowly on her back–ever so slowly raises her one front paw to indicate that.  She is definitely sweet but can be quite demanding when she wants to go out into our fenced yard and we are not so quick to comply.  She definitely has the sweet and good natured personality of her Mom, a golden retriever, appropriately named “Sweetie”.

It should be always that easy.  “Tilla”, one of my four dogs, is my buddy and friend.  I did not do much:  I fed him regularly and made sure he had water in his dish.  I, also, gave him a belly rub whenever he wanted.  Now he is my buddy for life.  Too bad it is not that easy with humans although getting a belly rub anytime you want is not a bad idea.  Humans can be so complicated (and dogs so easy to love).  Maybe that is why others trust dogs more than their fellow men.  They never disapprove of you or criticize you.  They are always loyal.  And always glad to see you.  And always act as if you were gone forever when you return to your house (no matter how short that period was).  You can’t beat that.

I am hesitant to go to a high school reunion.  For many reasons.  Maybe, the main reason is there is nothing there for me any longer.  It is over forty years ago I graduated from high school.  I still remember going back to my hometown in the early seventies and I realized I could not go back.

All the people I knew were either in college or had moved away.  The racial complexion of my community had changed drastically.  Then it had become mostly Cuban.

Considerably more time has passed since then.  I am not the same person.  Of course, there are other reasons.  All these people have become strangers.  For that matter, the few people I wanted to keep up with I did.  There were not many.  Two of them were on the tennis team I played.

There is always the fear no one will remember me although I am always curious what memories anyone had of me.  If any?!  Another reason is I fear I may not have anything to show for my life.  Some people may have become doctors, teachers and hold advanced degrees.  I have none.

The last fear is one I have to resist.  To some degree I have done what I wanted to, which is to write although I have not made a living from it.  I never had to.  There may be no reason to connect with anyone.  There is too much “posturing” that goes on in these reunions.

Time is really fleet.  It seemed like I just graduated from high school and that is just an illusion.  A lifetime has gone by.  Sometimes I do not know how to account for that.  And maybe that is my worst fear.  I squandered my precious time.