I’m not much of a dreamer but lately I have been having the most vivid dreams about my old dog Gypsy.
It is quite obvious that I let this blog go by the wayside for the past few months.
There may be a reason I haven’t been writing on here — it’s likely the same reason writing has been a sporadic activity for me since the time I decided to pursue it.
When that time was is hard to say.
You’re witnessing the process that goes into transcribing thoughts to – - – - well I can’t say paper, so I guess I am transcribing some type of code converted into alphabetical characters by someone in a remote location who operates this particular area of cyberspace.
The humidity is something I missed while I was away.
What isn’t to like about Ohio air quality and temperatures that make it difficult for sweat to cool the body?
And who doesn’t love how humid days can make one side of a person’s underwear creep up their leg throughout the day?
Why is it that everyone in Cleveland seems to jaywalk?
Not a day goes by where I don’t encounter an instance of someone stepping off the curb right when I drive past them.
The middle-aged man exited Edgewater Park in his car, making sure everyone noticed, taking each turn extra slow, as if he were on some kind of mission.
From the bright green paint job on his car, which was a sports car from the 1990s, to the way he wore his dark sunglasses and ran his fingers through what was left of his hair; it was hard not to glance his way.
But what really made him stand out was the dub step coming loudly from his speakers.