Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Cleaning the Clutter - Old photos - at this rate my mom will move out in a hundred years

I had a deadline, without which I can't do a thing.

Piles and piles of notepads sat here, all of which I got for free. Goal: go thru them. Put some in kitchen and some in pouch of car on driver's side.

There were also photos - dozens and dozens. Goal: throw em out.

You're not gonna live forever and you never look at em anyway.

Here, on a kitchen shelf, are some of the pads I use when taking notes. On the bottom is a composition book I'll use for recording my diabetes stats.

Let's take a look at the only photos I kept:

 I just love coffee. Reminds me of a horrible dream I had last nite. Someone had baked a cake and I was eating it.

"You can't do this," I said. "You've got diabetes!" Suddenly the food was unappetizing and I stopped chewing.
 On Davisville Road nearby, the Johnson Brothers own a paving company. Their last name is actually Jackson.
 Love this shot. It's like he's riding a horse. Am guessing it's a Bobcat machine by the logo. Aren't logos something? Instantaneously recognizable. What's your logo? Or your favorite logo?

 The frame on all these pix is my nubby living room carpet.
 Seamus and I are driving to Cabela's in Hamburg, PA. We meet these motorcycle guys in a rest stop. They fought in Vietnam.

 Everybody's got their coffee in hand.
 Brian was a young man I met at All-Nite Deli. He was dying of a brain tumor. Read my story about him.
 I always have relationships with our mailman. Here's Mailman Bob. I collected $50 from neighbors when he retired and wrote a poem about him. He has a son with Asperger's who has particular areas of brilliance. When Bob would come home from work around 4 pm, he'd sit in his recliner and drink a cup of Folger's instant coffee.

We are a coffee nation, tho I know many who don't imbibe.
 Here is Amadeus. When we had our Lambertville Poetry Group he was a member. The group is now dismembered.
 Pablo, one of the groundskeepers at the Santa Barbara Hotel where we stayed when Ada's son Aaron married Anissa.
 Pablo poolside.
 Another hotel guest.
 Nearby church. Death of a 39-yo woman
 Ada's mom Lillian Moss. I just mailed this pic to Lillian at her retirement home. She's almost 104 but has no idea.
 My blue-eyed friend Douglas "Duke" Kelly who I would occasionally see at the Terminal Luncheonette on Moreland Road. He lived in the rooming house of Beauty Daniels. He was always trying to quit smoking Salems, which are on the right.

Doug, a retired trucker, drove one of those long old cars. When I last saw him, he couldn't drive any more. A friend drove him over. He must've suffered a stroke.
 Charlie, across the street, also suffered a series of strokes.
 Charlie enjoyed his Virginia Slims. Gave the fotos to his wife Nancy who was quite appreciative.
A toothless Simon and my sister Ellen. He didn't wear his teeth b/c he said he couldn't taste his food. Medication ruined his teeth.
 Adrian, tattoo man.
 I met Adrian at Pennypack Trust.
My late friend Aaron Ryesky at home on Bauman Drive in Maple Glen. I'll give this photo to his wife Helene.

I remember when she painted her kitchen cupboards GRAY. She was a do-it-yourselfer. I used to read her my newspaper articles.

I'd call up Aaron when I had intellectual questions to ask, like What was World War I all about.

Now I just use google, a terrible last choice.

My parents took a trip to Europe. Dad wrote a letter to his company Majestic Specialties, Inc. on this airmail envelope.

The typewriter keyboard at the Grand Hotel Flora in Roma was different than ours. He told his buddies back home to think of it as a cryptogram.

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