Monday, September 1, 2008

Labor Day

Today while I was out taking the bull for a ride in my convertible, I thought about the irony of Labor Day. People are off on labor day, so in many cases no labor is done. I on the other hand thought I would do some today just to be different. The vehicle inspection station was closed, so I will need to wait until tomorrow to take care of that chore. My barbecue pit bit the dust and had to be replaced, so I went to Target and bought one on clearance sale. The box had to weigh in excess of seventy five pounds and some assembly was required. I sat in the hot garage for about two and one half hours trying to read the 60 page instruction manual and keep up with sixty or seventy tiny self tapping screws. I finally finished, got a full bottle of propane, and cooked burgers for the family. I am running on empty. Oh, I forgot. This morning I bought a new propane mosquito fogger and fogged the neighborhood in the immediate vicinity of my house. We are probably fairly toxic, but the mosquitoes are gone. I think I'll buy some more fog and go for the flies tomorrow. I'll give it a break after that to see if any other small animals have been affected. I kept thinking it was Saturday today. It's hard enough to keep up with the days of the week when you are retired, but add an extra day off and I need my pocket calendar. The grocery store here is where God sends me when he wants to see if he can make me cuss. I rarely disappoint him. I only wanted two items today, hamburgers and buns. When I arrived a woman was parking her shopping cart in the parking place where I wanted to park. I guess she read my face and felt it necessary to explain that it wasn't hers, she was just moving it. I told her that was a good idea, but she didn't take it far enough to be counted as a good deed. You actually need to put it in the cart corral in order to qualify. I also glared at the folks who drive the wrong way on one way parking aisles. At the check-out stand a woman put her groceries on the belt and then went to finish her shopping. I don't know how I manage to get in line with these people. When I zipped through my check-out (two items), I was slowed at the EXIT by people who can't seem to read, and insist on coming into the store against the flow of outgoing patrons. I started out with words like Idgit, and Igmo for brevity, and graduated to the hard stuff once I was on the highway home. God was laughing because I fall for the same stuff every time.

You probably wouldn't worry about what people think of you if you could know how seldom they do. - Olin Miller