I slept in today, finally a decent night sleep, with the few sleep aides, like ZZZ Sleep Gummies, but Joe (my same-sex husband), gently nudged me, letting me know, that he was leaving for work soon, and I needed to walk Chance (our rescued puppy who is at least 10 or 11 years old, but still out puppy.) Neve a problem, as Joe has early Sunday hours at his shop, and this weekend routine is just that ROUTINE. I quickly arose, Chance still asleep in the bed next to me (yes he sleeps I our bed, so if that disgusts you, you can stop reading.) I woke up placed on my Apple Watch (because it tracks my exercise and calories (and if I don’t see those numbers written somewhere), it seems that all that sweat and exertion is meaningless, (kind of like if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there…blah, blah, blah.) The weather, for Angeleno’s (yeah I still say I am from Pittsburgh but have grown quite accustomed to the LA climate), was a brisk 58 degrees, so I relished the fact that I could wear my Gym Shorts but place a long sleeve shirt over my tank top. (I am also a Gay man suffering from “A Man of A Certain Age Syndrome, actually called insecurity, so concern as to how I look still rummages through my brain, and I was relieved that the right side of my body which had a shoulder replacement would be covered up. ( Vanity is victorious in LA!)
Chance was perky, once we got him out of bed, and he and I began our pee and poop journey on the side streets of WEHO. We approached our first intersection, a perfect plot of brown weed dead lawn, for the initial tinkle, but, lo and behold, a squirrel was standing there on its hind legs with a nut between its paws, surrounded by at least eight, count ‘em eight-morning doves. I stood still thinking I did not want to disturb the gathering of the nuts, but this squirrel and his GANG of Eight, started to approach me and I swear the look in all of their eyes, were you take one step closer and we will re-enact a scene from the movie “The Birds,” and some yet to be produced the “ATTACK of the Killer Squirrel,” Chance, with his one eye looked at me, sensed emanate danger and we both quickly high tailed it to across the street. There we ran into the Landlord of a very OCD maintained the building, wearing his usual gray or was it once green robe, with his brown slippers, the kind that once was filled with the white down fabric, but now looked like he stepped in dog poo. This guy was at the same time peeling off a piece of rust from his drain spout, and passive-aggressively standing guard, against no dog poop on his very brownish looking lawn. Even Chance knew this guy was a loony tune, so we hurried past him, a few feet from his property and a final resting place for the first Chance poop of the morning. I with my recycled black poop bag picked up the poop, and the OCD Landlord felt comfortable enough to spend the next hour touching something else.
We made it to the corner where “COOKIES” is located, it is our neighborhood extra chic and shiny Pot Store. We were there early, but the same suspects were gathered round. The same three Guards were standing there, one who had to be 5 feet tall by 5 feet wide, one very tall, muscular man with the tightest Guards Uniform I have ever seen, doing a little flexing for the women waiting online, and a guy who looked like he was finishing his thirteenth toke, and was there mainly as show and tale. In the morning’s the favorite form of transport for the awaiting customers seem to be DODGE CHARGERS, all painted in black with tinted windows, and the new California license plates in black background, and yellow numbers and letters, all of which on this group of cars were some kind of acronyms. One car, which stood out was a very long Mercedes with a female sitting inside and her man pacing back and forth on his phone letting her know just how many more minutes were left till opening. Chance does not like the blatant odor of marijuana, so we scurried past the building. On the way toward home, we passed the lady, who smirks and says to anyone walking by her, and I quote: “please don’t look at my dog, he is shy and will not poop if he sees you looking.” Chance could have given a shit, and actually did shit, his second poop, and I knew we were on our way home, free and clear. As we headed home, I noticed the holdout Apartment Owners who waited till last minute to have their property retrofitted for THE BIG ONE…the 10.0 Earthquake, (the state of California enacted a law to retrofit property), I passed the two WEHO boys headed to the gym who, if you did not know them would think they were twins, as they looked exactly alike (I guess dating yourself is a thing.)
I write all of this, this non-Trump news, because, today, for the first time, I ignored, reading the news on my phone and did not turn on MSNBC News. I figure I would start the day, and write a blog, without using the word TRUMP more than several times. I also wrote this thinking about how nice life would be once Trump is out of the news and in prison!
