Is it worth your trouble?

At the side of a busy road there is an area that is being using as a temporary swap meet.

Every weekend, except for the hot summer months, people show  up early in the morning and put their merchandise up for sale. A wide variety of items is available, from baked goods to bicycles, tools, toys, furniture etc.

We usually stop and check it out when we are in the area. Over the years we have bought some items but most times we leave empty handed. We really don’t need anything and there is another reason we don’t buy.

The quality of the goods, or better said, the lack of quality is often the culprit. Some of the vendors have nothing better to offer than junk. We are certainly not interested in stuff that is broken, incomplete and dirty.

There is an elderly guy who is there almost every weekend. He arrives in his old beat up truck and fills a few tables with stuff that is not even worth looking it. It seems that he gathers every piece of scrap he can find.

Who would buy a dirty nylon rope, an old axe with a broken handle or some pliers that have been sitting in the elements and are rusted together? I cannot even imagine him making enough money to pay for the gas he uses to go back and forth.

And still, he keeps trying, week after week he drags the same rubbish out, sits there for 5 or 6 hours and then packs it all up again.

It seems to me that he would be better off just to discard the junk and be done with it.

May be he is bored and needs something to do even if he doesn’t make anything from is. May be he enjoys the company of his fellow sellers. Or perhaps he needs an excuse to get away from his wife. Who knows?

I can’t stand country music

We used to live a few miles away from a Dairy Queen and occasionally my wife and I would treat ourselves to something good. She would usually get a blizzard and I got a banana split. And if we were lucky comfortable leather armchairs were available.

The whole experience was overshadowed to some degree by the music coming from the ceiling speakers. It seems the manager was a fan of country music and had tuned in to a station specializing in contemporary country.

It was not very loud, but as far as I’m concerned country music is too loud at any volume. In other words: I can’t stand it.

And this comes from someone who used to listen to it all the time, but that was decades ago. I even made a trip to Nashville and enjoyed performances of great artists in the Grand Ole Opry. I have fond memories of concerts by Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and others.

In my humble opinion the overall music quality has gone down considerably over the last twenty years or so. The market has been flooded with artists that bring absolutely no creativity and originality to the table. Many of them don’t have singing voices, the songs are dime-a-dozen, the lyrics are poor. If you heard one, you have heard them all. And the whining and moaning of some of these singers wants me to hit the Mute button as quickly as I can. In most cases the Off button is a better choice.

There are exceptions of course, but they are very rare. The other day I saw a post of someone offering concert tickets for an artist of which I had never heard. I found some clips on YouTube and while some commenters stated that it was great and powerful, I couldn’t even get halfway one song. The poor voice together with lyrics that seemed to have been written by a 5-year-old was just getting on my nerves. Sorry all 5-yeard old people, I didn’t mean to insult you.

For all of you who disagree: Do yourself a favor and broaden your horizon. Once you have listened to real singers and have had the pleasure of listening to a beautifully written piece of music you may agree with me someday.

It’s all relative

Last summer a thunder and rainstorm ripped through our town.

The roofing on the corner of the carport was lifted up and folded back.

I tried to make a repair while the wind was still blazing in an attempt to contain the damage. I didn’t help much and my wife was upset that I was outside and on the ladder in those circumstances. She was fearing for my safety, rightfully because I was taking a risk.

That night I didn’t sleep well, maybe we would have to face costly repairs.

It was barely light the next morning when expected the damage. It wasn’t too bad and I managed to get the roofing on the carport back into shape.

From the house itself a few shingles were missing and I found most of them in the backyard. In my younger years I would have climbed on the roof without hesitation and put them back in place.

Now I wasn’t too sure if that was a good idea and I certainly didn’t what to upset my better half. I have to admit that I’m not as sturdy of my feet as I used to be.

On the other hand, I didn’t want to spend a lot of money and have a professional come out for a simple twenty minute repair.

I decided to call a guy who had bought some tools from me, he seemed to be the do-it-yourself type of guy. I asked him if he was able and willing to do it for us. He didn’t hesitate and two days later he came over and got the job done. A few shingles had disappeared but Joseph said he had some at home and the next day he came over again to finish it up.

He was reluctant to ask for money although I had told him that I would pay him. He left with some cash and a carload of tools and materials. He was content, and so were we.

Sometimes I worry too much, that was certainly the case in this event. And it was unnecessary because the solution to the problem was so cheap and simple.

No lasting damage was done, no one got hurt and the cost won’t hurt us at all. I have to keep this in mind for next time.

Missing a few shingles on the roof is less than a minor problem, worrying about it is ridiculous. Especially compared to what happened in the LA area where people lost their homes due to devasting fires.

Help us if you're in a hurry

It was a stormy day and broken tree limbs were all over the place when I drove home from work.

For a reason I don’t remember I took a different route than usual and I soon wished that I hadn’t. A big tree branch had snapped off and was lying across the road at a 90-degree angle.

Some drivers quickly turn around and others just stopped at the obstacle. A gentleman in a BMW was just in front of me and when I got out of my car I could see him pounding the steering wheel with both hands.

A few others got out of their vehicles as well and together we assessed the situation. It was a big limb and heavy for sure. But the six of us should be able to move it out of the way. It was worth a try, anyway. Better than waiting for official help which could be away for quite a while.

While we were positioning ourselves the impatient BMW driver honked the horn and pointed at his watch.

The guy next to me said:

“What does that idiot expect from us?”

And someone else yelled at the driver:

“If you are in that much of a hurry come and help us.”

The man didn’t move. Maybe he didn’t want the risk of getting his suit dirty. Or maybe he had some physical issues.

I was inclined to think that he was one of those people who thinks that others should do the work for him. As soon as we got the branch far enough the BMW moved through the opening we had created. The driver looked at us shaking his head. No sign of appreciation, no thank you of any kind.

A big guy in blue coveralls shook his head.

“If I had known that guy was such jerk I would have sat down on the branch with my arms crossed and looked him straight in the face.”

Everybody chuckled and a minute later we were all in our way.

About five miles down the road I saw a familiar looking grey BMW parked on the shoulder. The left rear tire was flat, and I got a warm feeling inside. Normally I would have stopped and offered my help but in this case I didn’t feel compelled to do so.

Good luck to you sir, it seems that you got what you deserved.