I had an eventful day, let’s see what I can remember, I walked 6 miles, an idiot story that involved blood being spilled, an unpleasant encounter with the police, hit subway delays, and a great Met game. I end with a eulogy for a friend. That was my day. I guess I’m finished writing. Oh, you want more details? Fine I’ll indulge you; I love My Gentle Readers.
I missed several days walking in the last week and that’s not good for either my mental or physical health. I needed to go shopping so made the grand walk to Aldi. Yesterday’s path was over 6 miles for the round trip. For the entire day I walked 8.34 miles. My average for the week is the too low 2.51 miles but for the month I’m right on target with 3.16 miles/day. The walk involves a climb of 140 feet. When I reached the top of the hill I found my elevation on my phone and compared it with the elevation of Aldi. I did not take my Donut Walk™ I ate something far less health instead. The Wendy’s app had an offer for free Pub Fries with any order, and my order was a chocolate Frosty. I paid for that with blood. It was hot and sunny, and I left the house while the sun was still high so needed UV protection. I of applied sunscreen, wore a floppy hat, and sunglasses. Those give wonderful protection but impair my peripheral vision. When I walked in the front door of Wendy’s I made an immediate left to get to the counter. One problem, there was a glass wall there. I hit it hard and put a gash above my left eye. I walked to the front and asked for napkins to staunch my wound. It looked like somebody punched me. My eye is not black. I only made contact at the eyebrow. It still hurts. Next time somebody explains a damaged eye and blames walking into a door, believe them, at least if it’s me.
When I got home I was hot and sweaty so had an egg cream on top of my Frosty. That hit the spot. I had to head out after only a short pitstop. It took me too long so instead of leaving for the game at 5:30 I left at 5:45. That should have gotten me to City Field at 7:00, the game was at 7:10. Instead the D train stopped in the tunnel before Columbus Circle and just sat there. Then they announced it was going to travel on 8th avenue instead of 6th. There was no express 7 train. The upshot I that I didn’t get to the stadium until the bottom of the first. I am never late for baseball games. Can I blame it on a concussion?
No, I’ll blame it on the cops. When I got to the D train station I walked down the stairs and saw two cops without masks on. The law now is that you need to be masked in the subway system, trains, and stations. I was not afraid of getting COVID-19, I’ve been vaccinated and the infection rate in the city is miniscule. I was concerned that cops whose job is to enforce the law were breaking it. Nobody else in the station, other than me was masked. The compliance rate is not great up here in the north Bronx but it’s not zero. At each subsequent stop most of the people were masked. I blame the cops for that. People see the cops are unmasked and take that as permission for them not to.
As I came down the stairs I said, “Hey guys!” and pointed at my mask. I’ve found that works with most people. The cops ignored me so said, “Please put on your masks.” They didn’t. “It’s the law and it’s your job to enforce the law.” A replied, “We’re more than 6 feet away from you.” The mask law says nothing about how far away you are. What bothered me was their attitude. They felt no duty to follow the law and set a good example. I told them that I’d report them. They just gave me a look. I called 311 and they saw me call, but before I could navigate the menu the train came, and I boarded. Then I realized I should take a picture of them. I got a picture from a distance of one. The other then hid, and when he emerged he was wearing his mask. I was bad and lambasted him and called him a coward and that he dishonored his uniform. As the train pulled out they waved at me. I gave them the finger. I’m not proud of that. This morning I made an online report to the Civilian Complaint Review Board and included the picture of the first cop that came out. I didn’t think it would, but it’s clear enough to identify him.
Now on to the Met game. The Mets were facing Milwaukee, one of the best teams and Woodruff, the second-best pitcher in the league. The Met pitcher was a recent minor league callup. Things did not look good for the Metsies. Alan and I both predict the score of the game and compete to see who is closer. I had the Mets losing 4-2. Alan had the Mets losing 6-2. The Mets won, 4-2! It was a great game. This is the most enjoyable the team has been in years. Every starting position player was on the opening day roster. That has not been true most of the season. They had so many injuries. I even brought a good dinner, ham and cheese on an Italian hero with honey mustard. I got drank the free soda you get if you promise not to drink alcohol. The ride home was uneventful.
When I got home and went on Facebook I got some terrible news, Brian, his husband, posted that Martin Swinger had died. That hurt. Martin was a mensch and one of the sweetest people I have ever met. He was a musician that played the Budgiedome. He was my roommate and NERFA one year. The world is a sadder place without him. I met him at Falcon Ridge and had no idea he was a musician. He was this guy I’d always run into and always have a talk with. I thought he was a farmer. He looked like a farmer. I associated him with Mr. Green Jeans from Captain Kangaroo. He had the Captain’s gentle demeaner. He radiated kindness. I have never heard anyone say a bad word about him. You mention his name and people smile. Later I discovered he was a not just a musician, but a musician that I love. This song shows both how clever and how gentle he was. Martin loved like God loves.
Wise Madness 