Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Tired of hearing about the Blizzard of New York?

Um. Yeah, I know. Then I did something really silly, other than listening to the snow storm.

I tuned to ESPN and listened to at least twelve minutes of the Super Bowl Media Day. I’ll assume it was twelve minutes, though it seemed an age, because they had two commercial breaks.

Strange happenings. A young man bearing a back pack, leading a Rottweiler, climbed off a school bus and walked away. Dog. School bus. Young man. Mid-day.

What to make of that. Not a lot, I don’t suppose, it was the young fellow opening a plastic wrapper of some sort and allowing the breeze to carry it away that caught my eye.  I wondered why it couldn’t have put it in his pocket to dispose of later.

That thought led to thinking of the way the military cares for loose trash. They simply know that men don’t like to pick up trash, so when the trash piles up they gen-up a large formation and explain the job is to pick it up if it ain’t moving or painted.

Surprising how little trash a large group of people don’t generate if they have to pick it up.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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