Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2017

It Was All Downhill

suspects 1A WHILE BACK I WENT FOR COFFEE. Okay, that fits just about any day, I admit. On most of those days I can count on seeing at least one or more of the Fans of the Little Brown Bean slumped in their pew. The Chapel of St. Arbucks has a faithful congregation. There are those interlopers who get their coffee and leave, but I tend to ignore them. The regulars are known as “The Usual Suspects.

On the day I have in mind, a couple of days after the New Hampshire Primary, I stumbled through the door to find five of The Usual Suspects already there.

Trying to follow the flow of conversation with this crew was like trying to keep your eye on one particular Swallow as they return by the thousands to San Juan Capistrano. Coming in late around St. Arbucks doesn’t help.

One Suspect was telling how he managed to “total” his car on Interstate 70 over the weekend while another was trying to analyze election results. A third was trying to get anyone’s attention to talk Baseball. The fourth was busy trying to calm the fifth Suspect who was grumbling about his encounter with yet another customer who is, unfortunately, a raving nut job.suspects5

If I didn’t know better I would have thought I was trapped in a talk show on CNN.

I was caught up in the cacophony where I couldn’t fully follow any of the conversations/rants. So, I did what any sane geezer would do in a situation like that – I took a chair in the corner, sipped my coffee, and kept my yap shut. Why?

Because the guy with the wrecked car was obviously unhurt, and since I refuse to discuss politics in any form over coffee, and until spring training starts all Baseball is speculation, and because I’ve had my own run-ins with the nut job in question and can offer no advice other than to kick him in the ankle and run. Being silent was my best option.

I’m considering starting an Order of Contemplative Monks for such moments. “The Caffeinated Monks of St. Arbucks The Jittery” We wouldn’t take a vow of silence. We would impose it on others.suspects 6

On a most day the “Play Group” as my wife calls it, is made up of the Ex-football player turned Sports Memorabilia Expert, an Ex-County Commissioner turned home remodeling contractor, a retired University Professor turned Book Store Manager, a “Former” Marine (One is never an Ex-Marine I have been informed.), A retired chiropractor who wants to argue politics, and me – a retired, Ex and Former any number of things turned Geezer. On a good day the gathering is almost what some would call a “Low Budget Salon,” but on a day like the one I just described it was closer to a “Slalom,” with everything going quickly downhill.

On most days I leave there feeling more awake but without any elevation in my blood pressure. On this particular day I left with the blood pressure of an enraged Cape Buffalo and with the desire to put several people into a comatose state, or even just another state, like Utah or Nevada, so I wouldn’t have to listen to them.

suspects 4

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One thought on “It Was All Downhill

  1. Now wait just one gosh darn minute there, Bucko… isn’t baseball, even in speculation, a more worthy topic than most?

    Liked by 1 person

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