Okay... Catching Up!

What a ride... for the nation, and for me, personally, this week has been. I don't know whether to shit, or go down to the steps of Centennial Park's Parthenon replica, fall to my knees, and scream out my joy like a madman, praising the omnipotent benevolence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster at the top of my lungs, all the while rending garments, and needing a shave. ;) ... if not a shower; dang, it got up to near 80ºF today, and the same or hotter is forecast for tomorrow. Well, truth be told, I'll probably both shit and do the ranting, since the two aren't mutually exclusive... I will, however, vow to do very little public instances of the latter, and never to do both at the same time. I reserve the right to shit in public, legal sanctions not withstanding. :)

The excitement about my near future prospects has really done a number on my sleep. I've been running on an average of 3-4 hours/night all week long (on top of my stupid, drunken sleep dysfunction of a few days earlier), and it's starting to wear me down. Once I fall asleep, I'm golden -- then, I seem to wake up 3-4 hours later, and then the gears in the thinkbone start up, and won't stop... and after 30 minutes or so of that shit, I say, "Awww, fuck it -- put on the coffee, and get to workin' -- you can always take a nap, or turn in early, tonight." Of course, there've been no naps or early nights. :) I'm simply too excited, and am meeting tens of potential new friends, allies and neighbors each and every day. Still, I need a good 7-8 hours tonight (Thursday, 11/9) in order to tackle the weekend. I'd better get it!

This week has proven something to me that I've long suspected -- that I've been far too emotionally and socially cloistered* for far too long. I'm amazed at how easy it is to engage people in idle chat in this town. Sure, Gnashvegas has advantages over some places -- the famed "Southern hospitality" is not a myth. What's even more amazing to me is what you can learn if you actively listen, and make mental footnotes from what people will tell you is going on in their lives.

Anyway, on with the show. Let's start with Tuesday -- Election Day! Whoo-HOOOOOO!

(check published chronology) I went to bed around midnight Wednesday night, at got up at 4:00 a.m., excited to get to the polling place. nashvegasdawg had offered me a ride to the polls, but my polling place had changed... and it was three blocks from Curly's condo, now. At any rate, he and I exchanged voicemails, and hooked up via phone on Monday, with the promise to have a Gnashvegan mini-Eschaton Real Soon Now. I'll try to organize that, if I can... or if Litz, Halfdan or someone else is especially good at organizing (I am not, or haven't been, traditionally), please feel free to jump in and take charge.

I knew that going to the polls at 7 a.m. was gonna be a drag... this neighborhood is chock-full of old folx, and they traditionally like to go, first thang. Sure enough, when I did arrive at around 8:15, there was still a lengthy line, though not out the door. I was unconcerned, because I knew I would have to spend some time with the precinct election official -- I'd neglected to notify the county election commission when I moved from WorldWideWebb's house to the condo in 37209, in April of 2005. Not to worry -- I confirmed with the e.c.'s website that I would be able to vote, and not provisionally -- all I had to do was have TN-issued photo ID and one other form of ID, and I'd be okay. I was okay, but it took about 30 minutes for the very helpful and friendly precinct election official to confirm from county HQ, who were completely slammed at that hour.

The poll workers said there were 114 people waiting to use four touchscreen, paperless voting machines when they unlocked the doors at the school at 7 a.m. Our ballot was seven "screens" long, and had two major paper corrections/addenda on two local Metro gov amendments that amended the text displayed on the touchscreens. I noticed most people took about 3-5 minutes to complete the voting process, as did I (and I was forearmed with the specific info as to the corrections and addenda).

As I said in Wednesday's catch-up, it rained pretty much all day, but at 8:15, it was a light mist with the occasional, brief sprinkle. By the time I left the polls and about 9:05, the sprinkle had turned into a steady, light rain, and I was carrying a package going out to e2gatto (which will have arrived by now, hopefully, to not spoil the surprise), if I could get it to the USPS five miles distant without its becoming waterlogged. :)

I started to walk back, and encountered a man just outside the 100 ft. campaigning limit, with a big Henry (TN state senate) sign. Turns out he was Vic Lineweaver, Juvenile Court Clerk of Davidson County. I told him I immediately recognized his name from the local news outlets, but I couldn't connect him with his office. He laughed and said that was perhaps because he had als o been ____ in years past. We had a nice chat, but the rain started coming down a bit stronger... I asked Vic if he had a yellow pages, because I was thinking of calling a cab to catch a ride to the bus stop. He didn't, but he did offer to drop me there (it would have been a three-minute round trip), but I said, "No, Vic, but thank you for offering -- I really want you out here talkin' to people goin' in, especially. I'll go stand under this awning, over here, and maybe run into one of my neighbors who can drop me off." Soon enough, I did in fact see someone who recognized me from the 'hood -- a Vietnamese fellow by the name of Dave (not his real name, for reasons that might soon become apparent -- although I will be using his real name in my LTE...) asked me if I needed a ride home. I accepted, and we (Dave, his elderly father and I) piled into his nice, late-model Lexus. When I told Dave I wasn't going home, but to catch the bus to the USPS, he insisted on taking me there himself -- about a 4.5 mile one-way trip (I obsess about local distances, being Mr. Alternate Transportation American, these days). I offered to buy them breakfast, but they wouldn't hear of it. It struck me as so very kind, so neighborly, to give a virtual stranger a ride for an admittedly non-critical, elective task. So, after introductions and exchanging general home locales, we chatted about the weather, the day, and the election.

Along the way, there was much of what I presume was a Vietnamese dialect between father and son. The father had less English than the son, which seems normal; Dave explained/translated that his father wanted to know what I thought would be the results of the election. I said, "Well, I can only hope that there will be a change in the country's course," being somewhat vague so as not to needlessly offend my benefactors. The following discussion led me to believe that both Dave and his dad had, indeed, voted mainly Republican -- Dad had worked aiding U.S. forces, and was taken prisoner by the NVA in 1967, and spent the next six years in a horrendous prison camp. Both he and his son were great admirers of John McCain, since he had suffered a similar ordeal; Dad moved the family to the U.S. in 1975, and Dave just became naturalized last year -- this was only his second trip to the polls, the first being the August primaries. I praised his dedication to stay involved in the political process, and Dave said, "He say (Vietnamese between the two gents for the next 12 seconds)," and then Dave said, "Yes -- my father say it is the only way, otherwise people make war on one another when they unhappy." Then Dad chimed in with his limited English: "Vote very important. Always go vote! Always." Indeed, my friend... indeed.

A few minutes later, we arrived at the 37209 USPS. Dave said he'd be happy to wait, and drop me back at Curly's, but I explained that I had planned to stop by the library to check for reserves (and borrow an Intertubes PC), stop by the bank to deposit a certain pilot's generous loan, and might go check on the rumor of a job downtown (journeyman assistant editor at a video production outfit, which they've already filled), so we said our goodbyes, and I thanked them both again, and truned to go into the Post Office.

That was when I fell down the rabbit hole.

More accurately, it was when I decided the padded mailer I'd carried was probably a little too wet and ratty to make the trip to New York to e2gatto, and I felt for my wallet, to see if I had cash enough to cover everything, or if I'd need to whup out Ye Olde Debit Card.

Not there. Nor there. Gotdamnit -- I've lost my fuckin' wallet. Keys, testicles, wallet, watch. Mother. Fucker.

Well, I had it out to present my IDs to the friendly precinct election official; perhaps I left it there. Fortunately, I had just enough change to catch the westbound #10 back to Aldi, so, after waiting 15 minutes or so, I did just that. While I waited to cross Charlotte, an older gent rode up to the USPS on a nice lookin' bicycle. I commented on the bike, and asked him where he got it, since I was in the market for one. He sez, "Buddy, if you have $20, I'll give this one to you right now, if you like it. If not, stop by my house tomorrow, and I'll set you up with a better one." I sez, "What? Is it yours? Is it stolen?" Well, no --turns out he's a recently retired chap who gets people to give him old, broken, unloved bikes, and he tinkers them up to snuff, and that, plus his SocSec check, pay his bills. How innovative and unconventional, thinks I!

More to come...
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