Brain games

I find I often awaken somewhat in the middle of the night. Not a problem, mind you, unless I begin to give some matter just a little bit of thought. Then, I’m in trouble.

In trouble, you say? Why’s that?

Well, it’s really simple. The problem, you see, is with that “just a little bit of thought” thing. Just a little bit is a bit like that mustard seed you planted out back one day. Seems if conditions are just right, in not too long a time what might start out as a very small plant just could begin to grow to proportions that are more than a bit troublesome. Big, I mean! A good thing, you say? Well, not if you are the one who has to keep up with those growths that may or may not be in accordance with some City ordinance that some do-gooder may have come up with some time in the past when you just weren’t paying attention. Do-gooders are a bit troublesome at times, or so it seems. They come up with things that may seem reasonable at the time but that can be just a bit troublesome if pushed to the limit.

Which is what happens to me in my night time ramblings. Awake again, you say? Yes, dang it--again, always again. Tonight I find myself watching a program. It’s in black and white, something that many pretty good programs might come across as, if they were made in that pre-color time which was our television’s first efforts at becoming a useful tool for almost everything imaginable. Well, to get to the point, this program was about a man who discovers his son is growing some mushrooms in his basement. He doesn’t think much of it until he finds he is one of several people in his purview who has a similar situation. He follows his son down to his current project and becomes its latest victim when he falls under the spell of a son who has morphed into a quite different creature, mentally, and old dad eats a sandwich given to him by his one time son. The sandwich contains the mushrooms, of course, and by taking that first bite, our hero is to become a new creature himself.

Twilight zone, I’m thinking? No, Alfred Hitchcock. Interesting how these shows seemed to copy one another--something I did not even think of when fourth grade me had the occasion to watch our first ever television set.

And, of course, thanks for watc--er--reading, just a bit of this Blog!

Thanks.

‘Splain things, would you now?

              ‘Splain things, would you now?

Write, write, write to your heart’s content. The question is, why write at all? Maybe I should pass on a bit from an early post I made in Blogger, https://stephenvgeddes.blogspot.com/2011/10/autumn-again-harleys-blowers-and-rakes.html. One reason to write is to express your opinions about a topic or two (or three, four, whatever,) and to do so for any purpose under the sun. On the day that the given topic was addressed, I had a few thoughts about my neighbor, a friendly guy, with a friendly wife, who, in spite of being friendly, did some things in a manner that provided a bit of hardship on anyone living in hearing distance of his infernal machinery.

But did I complain? Noooooo. Should I have complained? Well, you be the judge here. I would have liked to, but that bit about my neighbor and his wife (two shall become as one works to a certain degree) being friendly was totally true and “complain” was not something I would have wanted to burden either one of us with. So, I did what I could, and retreated to the relative comfort and quiet of the interior of my home, as I pointed out in the topic of the day back in 2011. This, while not entirely satisfactory, was the best I could do. Maybe somewhere, sometime they might have seen that blog entry and decided there might be ways to be even better neighbors than they already were. Maybe. In any case, they moved (hopefully not because of my blog) and their noisy tools went with them.

Again I find myself in the autumn of the year, and, instead of my neighbors, themselves, many of them have yard contractors who seem to have tools they find useful that are every bit as onorous as the tools of my neighbors of days gone by. Geesh! Can anything at all be done? Is the leaf rake a thing of the past that has not the least hope of any kind of useful resurrection?

I guess I could go to one of our city’s meeting of its governing body, the City Council, and make my thoughts known. After all, it is not just I who finds these leaf blowers and other such “tools” bothersome. When I walk my dog Tobijuan, and we approach an area where these “tools” are in use, he makes his opinion known by attempting to turn around. It seems the “tools’” discharges actually hurt his ears. And, interestingly enough, I can relate to that. One day, while working at a horse farm, I decided to use one of the owner’s blowers myself. I thought nothing of the task until the next day. Unfortunately, I now have more than just a bit of hearing loss from my transgression (I did not wear ear plugs that one time and one time only.)

As for my dog and I on our walks, the best I can sometimes do in these situations is simply to run. We begin our run a hundred yards out or so and continue for a second hundred to put the hurtful situation behind us sufficiently far to give his ears the needed relief. Would pointing this out to our City Council do any good at all, I wonder? Well, maybe if I were to at least give these leaders of ours the opportunity to read a bit of the thoughts of one of its citizens on the matter of needless neighborhood noise, something might be done about the utility (or lack of same) of the so-called mufflers in use today by our contractors (and some of our neighbors to boot!)

And, while I’m sure there are some things about me that my neighbors don’t particularly like, I wonder if bringing up my likes and dislikes about things over which I have no control might cause them to take action against me for whatever problems they feel I may be causing them. I would hope they would first point out my transgressions to me. Maybe there are things that could be done--in any case, I hope I am not keeping them awake nights, or causing them to have to run past my home with their animals, as I sometime must do when I approach their domiciles.

Cans of worms. Best left alone, or not? What do you think? (The blog does have a section for comments from readers, you know.)

Thanks.

Steve