And I'm out in the nine deuce Cad'
So yesterday I did some driving, ran some errands. you know, no big whoop. But along the way, I saw some interesting things.
Driving south on Tucson, near Grant: I'm stopped at the light and I look over to the car next to me. Much to my surprise, the old man driver was smoking a corn-cob pipe. How awesome is that?? I continued to stare like a slack-jawed yokel for probably a minute. I see him reach up and grab the pipe and on his forearm was a giant tattoo. I couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it looked like a lady. Chalk up another cool point for old man. But couple those facts with the following: he was old, bald, slight underbite, driving a boat-like cadillac. It was friggin' Popeye! Like so many others, he came to Arizona to retire. I know Popeye's arm tattoo was an anchor (or a boat or a tank, depending on spinach consumption) but I stand by my theory. It all makes sense now, since my Physiology professor is apparently Olive Oyl...
Car Wash at Speedway and Country Club: Time for a blast from the past. I was watching the dudes watch my car, when one of the young whippersnappers (D-Rock suggests "whipersnapper", which is hilarious) finishes. He moves toward the big garbage can to dispose of his nasty, wet rage. But instead of dropping it in, he maneuvers to basketball stance and pulls a fade-away jumper toward the bin. I haven't seen that move since high school! Probably because most people realize they look like a jackass when they do that by the time they hit 17. But some people are still livin' the dream, I guess. FYI, he missed the bin by about 4 feet.
Car Wash, part 2: Why is it that every time I go to a car wash they try to sell me on the $70 Super Wash™? I roll up and ask for the cheap, $7 special. Pretty straightforward, right? He then asks if I want the most expensive wash (which is "on special" to $70 - how much does it normall cost??) which includes: outside wash, inside wash, tire wash, car wax, car scent, and inner thigh scrub. If I ask for the cheapest wash, why would you think I need the most expensive? He wouldn't stop pitching it until I started crying...
All over tucson: One of my favorite hobbies since moving to Tucson is watching red light runners. It's like bird watching with a much greater potential for horrible, deadly accidents. Yesterday, I decided to count them after seeing one almost immediately after leaving the house. Here was my driving yesterday:
In that span of driving I counted sixteen (16) red light runners. I shit you not. 11.7 miles and 16 red light runners. That's how bad Tucson is. I basically see somebody run a red at every stop light. Usually left turners, but not always. I'd guess 10 or 11 of the runners were left turners. That's bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
That's all for now. Time to get back to physio. "Oh, Popeye...help!"
Driving south on Tucson, near Grant: I'm stopped at the light and I look over to the car next to me. Much to my surprise, the old man driver was smoking a corn-cob pipe. How awesome is that?? I continued to stare like a slack-jawed yokel for probably a minute. I see him reach up and grab the pipe and on his forearm was a giant tattoo. I couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it looked like a lady. Chalk up another cool point for old man. But couple those facts with the following: he was old, bald, slight underbite, driving a boat-like cadillac. It was friggin' Popeye! Like so many others, he came to Arizona to retire. I know Popeye's arm tattoo was an anchor (or a boat or a tank, depending on spinach consumption) but I stand by my theory. It all makes sense now, since my Physiology professor is apparently Olive Oyl...
Car Wash at Speedway and Country Club: Time for a blast from the past. I was watching the dudes watch my car, when one of the young whippersnappers (D-Rock suggests "whipersnapper", which is hilarious) finishes. He moves toward the big garbage can to dispose of his nasty, wet rage. But instead of dropping it in, he maneuvers to basketball stance and pulls a fade-away jumper toward the bin. I haven't seen that move since high school! Probably because most people realize they look like a jackass when they do that by the time they hit 17. But some people are still livin' the dream, I guess. FYI, he missed the bin by about 4 feet.
Car Wash, part 2: Why is it that every time I go to a car wash they try to sell me on the $70 Super Wash™? I roll up and ask for the cheap, $7 special. Pretty straightforward, right? He then asks if I want the most expensive wash (which is "on special" to $70 - how much does it normall cost??) which includes: outside wash, inside wash, tire wash, car wax, car scent, and inner thigh scrub. If I ask for the cheapest wash, why would you think I need the most expensive? He wouldn't stop pitching it until I started crying...
All over tucson: One of my favorite hobbies since moving to Tucson is watching red light runners. It's like bird watching with a much greater potential for horrible, deadly accidents. Yesterday, I decided to count them after seeing one almost immediately after leaving the house. Here was my driving yesterday:
1. House to Car Wash: 1.2 mi
2. Car Wash to Grant & Oracle flower shop: 4.0 mi
3. Flower Shop to Albertsons at Glenn & Campbell: 2.9 mi
4. Albertsons to home: 3.6 mi
In that span of driving I counted sixteen (16) red light runners. I shit you not. 11.7 miles and 16 red light runners. That's how bad Tucson is. I basically see somebody run a red at every stop light. Usually left turners, but not always. I'd guess 10 or 11 of the runners were left turners. That's bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
That's all for now. Time to get back to physio. "Oh, Popeye...help!"
posted by Montgomery at 8:03 AM
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