When I went to preschool as a child, I learned many things. How to tie my shoes, how to weasel out of naptime, how to write my phone number (and I still remember that number, today). Barry, the director, was one in a million; the sort of person my grandmother would and probably did describe as "such a character!"
"Bug," he'd say to me - yes, that's right... Bug. My childhood nickname. Shush. "Bug, keep your eyes peeled. You'll notice all kinds of things that you might be missing, things that are right under your nose."
I try to remember that. Typically I notice things, and then I think to myself "I should tell Tim about this". And then, usually, I forget. I'm good like that.
One of the things I saw which I did remember to mention was a hand-painted sign outside of a dry cleaning business. SEAMSTRESS AVAILABLE FOR ALTERCATIONS, it read. I had to resist the urge to go inside just to see if I could start a brawl.
I sat at a stoplight and watched a minivan pull out of the take-out Italian food joint near our house, the other day. As the van accelerated, two styrofoam containers of food went tumbling down the length of the roof and crashed to the ground. A complete waste of parmesan.
In the grocery store parking lot, a license plate which said "HTML". I considered hanging around long enough to see if the car happened to belong to somebody I know, but then decided against it. It's pretty likely, though.
This morning I headed over to le botique Target to procure a new office coffeemaker (the heating element died on the one we had... it was a crisis) and on the way back down through the Devine Delta, I spied seven police cruisers and a handful of onlookers, all gazing down over the guard rail into a creek. I can't help but wonder what was going on down there.