Memorial-Day ruminations

The Keed.

-Today (Monday, May 28, 3007) is Memorial-Day, which by all means means we have to get the flag out.

-So how many people does it take to get the flag out?
Actually for me it’s nothing new. I fly the flag every day if it looks like it won’t rain.
I figure the flag isn’t just something for the tub-thumping Limberger REPUBLICANS to wrap themselves in.
I also had a mentally-retarded (Down Syndrome) kid-brother who went ballistic if you didn’t fly the flag.
I fly it partly in his honor.
So of course I raised my flag as soon as I got up, which was around 6:45 a.m.
Obviously my frail 93-year-old nosy neighbor (soon to be 94 — I’ll have to change my macro yet again) was thinking the same thing: it’s Memorial-Day; we have to put the flag up.
I looked across the street and his 90+-year-old wife was outside in her housecoat trying to put up the flag.
The 93-year-old nosy neighbor, who was inside his house, had probably ordered her to put up the flag.
So I went across the street, ostensibly to help her.
A clevis-pin that holds the flag was rusted nearly solid, so that her hands were unable to work it.
I worked the pin and attached the flag, and right about then the garage-door opened, and the 93-year-old nosy neighbor started his John Deere lawn-tractor (his so-called buggy).
He was coming to supervise.
We started to hoist the flag, but it was attached upside-down.
Heaven-forbid that occur, for some super-patriot Granny will appear with Uzis blazing for implying our nation was in distress.
I reattached the flag and we hoisted it.
“Now put that thing away,” I said to the 93-year-old nosy neighbor; “and get back inside before ya miss ‘Good Morning America.’”

-Return to running........
Today, since it’s a holiday and we figured the Canandaigua YMCA would be closed, we took our dog instead to the so-called elitist country-club to run.
It would be my first attempt running since last year, when I only ran once. (And that was the first time in years.)
It went fairly well; never stopped, and under a half-hour (28:50). There have been times I was over 30 minutes — it’s about four miles.
Felt stiff and rusty; but made it. I think conditioning helps. Linda ran along side with the dog.
“Dog’s getting a workout,” some lady said.
No; he probably thinks we’re moving more his speed.
Running at the park only chews up about 1.5 hours; walking the dog about 2.5, and the YMCA equals 3.5. Running also uses more effort, and is more aerobic than what what I do at the YMCA. The only lack is strength-training — pulling weights.
So I’m hoping I can do more running and less YMCA.

-Parade-detours.......
A number of tiny nearby towns hold Memorial-Day parades.
We have to circumnavigate these parades to get to the park and avoid blockages.
We travel through the tiny hamlet of Ionia, which is in the Town of West Bloomfield; little more than a rural crossroads the Peanut once crossed — the railroad-station is still there.
Ionia holds a parade, and was setting up with marching-bands and fire-engines. It is also the location of the world-famous tractor-parade every fall.
Grampaw, an aging veteran, was blocking the road with his silver LeSabre — “I nearly sacrificed my life on Omaha Beach protecting your freedoms, so you better move aside!”
Mental note; don’t drive back through Ionia.
West Bloomfield also holds a parade, so I had to not detour through West Bloomfield.
After we returned we could hear the rattling snare-drums and wailing sirens. Marchers were turning the corner far away up at the traffic-light, off 5&20 up County Road 37 to the Firehouse. Dippity-Dan had his white Crown-Vic across Route 65 with the red roof-lights flashing.

“Limberger” is Rush Limbaugh — I call him that because I think he stinks.

RE: “I’ll have to change my macro yet again.....” refers to the fact that “the 93-year-old nosy neighbor” is an AppleWorks macro. I recorded it some time ago. Hit Apple-Option-Shift-v and AppleWorks types “the 93-year-old nosy neighbor.” Saves the possibility of mistyping. (Change number-one was from 92 to 93.)

“The so-called elitist country-club” is nearby Boughton (BOW-tin) Park; called that long ago by an editor at the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, where I once worked, because it only allows use by residents of the three towns that own it.

“Linda” is my wife.

“The Peanut” was originally the Canandaigua & Niagara Falls Railroad, built about 1850. It eventually was bought by the New York Central Railroad, where a Vanderbilt called it a “peanut” compared to the New York Central mainline. “The Peanut” has been long-abandoned.

Every fall, as part of its town-wide festival, Ionia holds a tractor-parade. We attended last year, and it was really nifty: 89 bazilyun chugging tractors.

“5&20” is the main east-west highway through our area; State Route 5 and U.S. Route 20, both on the same road.

We live in the “Town of West Bloomfield,” although not in the tiny crossroads hamlet up the street that could be said to be West Bloomfield.