Birthday Wish List Item


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Part of The Morning Walk to Work

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Pennsylvania Ave, represents part of the shortest line between 2 points for my pedestrian commute to the worksite.  Passing it everyday this part of DC, a magnet for some, barely distracts, though there have been changes, like the moveable fencing you see in the foreground, set up after a few fence climbers. These moveable fences are also derisively called “Barry-cades”, Barry being a code word for that horrid electoral choice currently in the White House.

I have had the urge to flash a hearty full middle finger salute in the direction of its current occupant, but given how security is, or how jumpy it is,  probably not a good idea, 1st amendment rights notwithstanding.


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Of All The Things to Run Through the Mind….

Yesterday, in the morning, despite after cup after cup of the Living Draught of Death (aka the office coffee) trying to snap out of the mental end of week haze and concentrate on  reviewing the documents,  this song kept looping through my mind.

Jeez, was my mind trying to tell me something?

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A period memo came out a few hours before he day was over and among the announcements, were 1.) a request not to use strong or too much perfume or cologne, as the fragrance could possibly irritate the skin of others, and second,  a request that anyone with strongly scented/smelling food (which is defined as???) . Please eat elsewhere besides at the workstation (which most of us do).  he food issue is impractical as there are too many of us for the small kitchen area we have.

There are many of us jammed into a small area, and theoretically over perfumed or strong smelling food could  be a problem, but neither has bothered me and while I have no idea who has been complain (would like to know)  the person who has raised these to the level they are now at, has to be all of the above in the title, and probably someone who needs to better apply themselves at the task at hand instead of complaining.

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Beggar Thy Neighbor

The person sitting on the corner is just one of a few individuals I pass early in the morning, a part of DC’s landscape, who for want of a better word are professional panhandlers.

As I pass this person,  there is the bleat of ‘spare change!’ , which I ignore.

Not that I have no empathy for people in need, but when need turns into a profession calling…put me down as uninterested.


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The Veneer of Innocence

Or fig leaf, or whatever.

Was looing for the right word for this before I started on this post.

In the work I do now,  many times names of other companies are not written out completely in documents, but instead given code words, most common using the capitalized roman letter of the first letter of the  company’s name.

This is supposed to preserve some sort of secrecy, but to me, it fools no one and while charitably it could be thought of as coy,  to me its is farcical.

Thinking a bit more, the Japanese use “fig leaves” elsewhere.  For example the floating blurred balloons in movies to hide the genital nudity  in movies or late night TV. (one of the bigger surprises in my first year in Japan was how much nudity these was on Japanese TV, late night TV that is)  Or the little old ladies (I am told) who with magic markers, blot out the an genital nudity in imported magazines. Playboy, and the like.

And then there is the veneer of “research” used by Japan for continued hunting of whales.

Like I said, all this fools no one, including the Japanese.

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Yesterday’s Protest, The Morning After’s Trash

This caught my eye as I was walking to the worksite this morning  think it was in the gutter on 14th Street.


My guess this was carried by someone with a strong opinion on the matter as yesterday the Supreme Court heard oral arguments on whether a state has the right not to recognize gay marriages.

Like so much of the political theater in DC,  the shelve life of such is very short…. things go on and in a way they don’t change much.

What else is there to say?  Not much as work which provides a much appreciated paycheck every week, grinds.  I am amazed I can make each day through the hours we put in.

Nothing really to says about it either; much like standing in front of a machine that punches out  say, broom handles.

Sounds a bit squeezed out perhaps.  That’s because I am.

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