Robots

"You don't look married," the older woman on my block says to me in response to my "Does this t-shirt make me look married" shirt. I laugh indulgently, even though she never remembers me, or the fact that my dog doesn't like to be touched, or interacted with in any way, and she does both those things anyway.

But while she attempts in vain yet again to try and pet a dog that clearly doesn't want to be petted, one of the kids running the "I'm raising money for my basketball team" scam comes up with his clipboard and tried to engage us, and I fix him with one of my most aggressive smiles and say, "Oh, hey, how are you?"

"Oh, fine," he says, only momentarily startled out of his robotic recitation of the scam script before launching back into it, but by that time the woman has already escaped, and he has to pursue her down the street.
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One year ago: Why Are We Like This?
Two years ago: Blowdart
Four years ago: Holding On To Disappointment

On The Left Hand Side

It's obvious he screwed up his back by the way he gently walks over and sits down with a grimace. "Do you smoke?" I ask, thinking it might relax his spasming muscles.

"Well I just got a vape which is really nice," he says, his eyes lighting up. "But since I managed to do this," he indicates his back, "under the influence, I'm not sure it'll help."
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One year ago: Feisty
Two years ago: He Doesn't Eat Much
Three years ago: To My Shame
Four years ago: Out of the Well

All The News That's Fit

The weather's the only news anyone believes anymore, and the news from the Atlantic is all bad: horrific, monstrous storms, rising tides, drowning towns.

I never bothered to learn how to wash dishes correctly - I run the water until it's hot, and then soap each dish individually while the water keeps running until the drain trap fills up with old food.

I think about houses filling up with dirty water while the sink fills up with dirty water over a choked up drain.

I wonder what I'll give a few years hence for a single sip of drinkable water when the rivers overflow their banks.
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One year ago: High and (kinda) Tight
Two years ago: The Girl Can't Help It
Three years ago: Sand in my Shoes
Four years ago: Something Like That

"Stay a while, you are so beautiful."

Sunlight carves the buildings out of the air and gives them sharp, hard edges so they look brand new. I stand by a tree at the intersection, staring up at the spire of a church, listening to the occasional car go by. The bark is rough and warm under my hand where I lean against the tree.

It's very peaceful here right now, but I know it hasn't always been that way, and I find myself saying a prayer, a wish, a hope, that it stays that way for just a little while longer.
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One year ago: All Summer In A Day
Two years ago: It Was Quite Loud
Three years ago: There and Back
Four years ago: A Good Night For Stargazing

Bumping All The Hits

"Yeah, I don't know that song," Katie says after I sing the first verse of "Holding Back the Years" by Simply Red to her, to explain why I was laughing at a car driving outside blasting such a soft rock hit.

"Well, let me sing the entire rest of it to you, just in case," I say as she walks from the room.

Later, she laughs at a car driving by and I ask her to explain.

"Well, it was blasting something and then the GPS came on and said, 'In 300 feet, turn left.'"
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One year ago: Tomato Koan
Two years ago: I Missed It
Three years ago: Packs Come In All Sizes
Four years ago: Tired of Wasting Food

A Child's Superpower

Someone has placed, in the dark soil at the base of this Brooklyn tree on a shady residential side-street, a miniature tableau: wire cages from the tops of champagne bottles twisted into chairs, a tiny table made of popsicle sticks and cardboard from a small box of cereal, some small toys as garden decorations.

I'm behind in my errands, so I don't stop to examine it closely, but a young girl and her father pause at her squeal to take a look. She excitedly begins to describe who would be sitting in the little chairs at the table, and what they might be eating and drinking, a whole guest of list of little folks sharing tea and crumpets in the very small world beneath the very large tree.

I try to remember what it must be like to be so young as to see something for the very first time, to see everything for the first time, and think how I might regain this superpower.
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One year ago: My "Tell"
Two years ago: Misunderstood
Three years ago: A Day's Work
Four year ago: That's How Blessings Work (Reciprocity)

Long Showtime No See

I get on the train and sit next to the manspreading dudes in the tight t-shirts and jeans who, it turns out, are riding with the guys sitting on the other side of the train.

"But if Messi joins Chelsea, then we might stand a chance," the one next to me says, loud enough to make me flinch, but I get out my notebook and start writing anyway. Eventually I'm concentrating on what I'm doing enough to tune them out.

At the next stop, four kids get on, and one of them shouts, "Showtime, ladies and gentlemen, showtime," but I just sigh, keep my head down, and keep writing.
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One year ago: Boing
Two years ago: Marry Well
Three years ago: Waving Not Drowning
Four years ago: Getting Summer in Just Under the Wire