i don't know my cousins

at the minnow, harlow tells me about some sort of cool web site that i can post stuff i want to get rid of and people will pick it up. she says it takes less than a day to unload a broken washing machine. "just google dowagiac recycle," she says.

that didn't work. then i remembered she called it freecycle. i look that up and find that it is a yahoo group. i go to the group and it tells me i'm not a member.

so i try to use my old yahoo id, bigbadjerryyang, and it no longer exists. i sign up for it again. questions, questions, questions. when i get to the "pick a security question," i'm stumped. i don't know which of my aunts is my favorite. my kids don't have nicknames. i don't have favorite movies longer than a week. i don't know the name of my oldest cousin. i'm fairly certain i have about 100 cousins, a few of whom i met as a child, but we didn't really get close enough to discuss names or ages.

i pick a random question and write licedung as my answer.

then i must choose another security question just in case i forget licedung. this group has one question i can answer: favorite author. i type in the name. "your response cannot be the same as your password," yahoo tells me. my new favorite author is pussmunch.

now i get to retype the squiggly letters. my poor eyesight and lack of art education make this task nearly impossible. three tries, though, and i'm bigbadjerryyang again.

i go to search groups. dowagiac freecycle doesn't exist. i will continue to put crap by the side of the road. it works without a password.

rain

today the rain in the morning was heavy. in the afternoon i spent 45 minutes crying to this song.

naked neighborhood: the conclusion

we got a sunday paper yesterday. it's been years since i read one. what i was most impressed by were the coupons.

i clipped some, and for the first time in my life decided to save money at the grocery store. i looked forward to saving a dollar on that new deal you can stick in your dryer to get rid of dryer sheets. having a dryer sheet surprise me during the day by peeking out of my pants legs is getting old. if this giant block gets stuck in my pants, i should notice it before arriving at work.

i had five coupons. i gave them all to the check out lady. two beeped correctly. others inspired a strange nervous sigh from the checkout lady. one registered twice. management had to be called. people behind me in line edged forward and began blaming me for all their life's problems. ten minutes later, i ended up having to find two dollars in my pocket to pay for their miscalculation, and the people behind me in line had decided it was all my fault. maybe there's a reason i don't use coupons. i'm still excited, though, about the dryer thing.

oh, and the wrap up of the driveway clothes mystery: the cop finally called and loudly explained that it wasn't as interesting as he had hoped. the guy had been very drunk and didn't remember any of it. the shorts and underwear were his; the shoes belonged to his buddy. he had never heard of my street. he woke up naked in his friend's truck. given that his friend lives about five blocks away, there is still more to this story than anyone will ever know.

naked neighborhood II (of III)

update:

so when n first saw the shoes under the truck (she hadn't mistaken them for a skunk), she thought i had run over someone the night before.

that is one of the only possibilities i can cross off the list.

here's the big news, though: now the police are involved. i went out to bag the evidence, and when i was picking up the shorts with a stick, i noticed they were heavy. the fruit of the loom underwear were also a little heavy, but that was due to moistness. the shorts were also moist. had the guy jumped in my pool and then disrobed? no. only the bottom of the shorts and underwear were wet. my guess is urine, but i didn't investigate too thoroughly.

i checked the shorts' pockets and found a pack of cheyenne cigarettes, a lighter, and some change in one pocket. not wet. in the other pocket, i found a wallet. it contained about 150 dollars, many pay check stubs from turf services, and a drivers license. weird became weirder.

i called the police because of the wallet, saying "i have to report something weird." the cop who came agreed it was strange and looked forward to hearing how the guy would explain it. what would cause a guy to leave his clothes, wallet, and last three cigarettes in my driveway? what kind of night could that be?

i explained that the shorts and underwear were moist. "maybe he peed his pants so he left them," i offered.

"i wouldn't leave my shorts if i just pissed myself," the cop said. "maybe if i shit myself, but not just pissing." i nodded.

i interviewed the neighbors who said they saw a shoeless guy walking around about 11:30. he was wearing shorts or boxer shorts or something. but no shoes. maybe he left stuff in my driveway in two shifts--first the shoes, then his shorts.

hopefully, the mystery will soon be solved. the cop promised to call me when he found out something. i sit anxiously.

naked neighborhood

here in the middle west, the first door opening of the day--to let the cat our while the coffee brews--often leads to a minor crime scene investigation. if csi: dowagiac were on tv, the investigators wouldn't focus on murder; instead, the show would begin each week with the team leader looking down at the ground, saying, "check out this weird shit."

a couple weeks ago i had a 40 oz covered in bloody fingerprints appear in my garbage can. this morning i saw what i thought was a sleeping skunk by my car. here's what it was.

i approach.

here's the first pretty sight.

here is my skunk, under the truck.

why someone chose to get naked and leave their clothes in my driveway, i may never know. i will tag the items and file them with other bits of evidence in the garage. any help solving this week's mystery is appreciated.

hobgoblins

i realize i am above foolish consistency and that we all contain multitudes. i shouldn't hold too adamantly to any opinion, since there is a possibility i will disagree with myself at some point. yep. i believe those things. still, lately i feel like i've sold myself out.

it started with shrimp. i make a point of not eating it. then, just for something to do, i ate it four days straight.

eating the shrimp had a profound effect on my life. now nothing seems off limits.

i have made a point of sneering at people who pay for tv. i have lectured about the waste of money and the poor product. tomorrow afternoon, the cable guy comes. i still don't want a million channels. i told the person who excitedly offered me unlimited nfl for ten bucks, that i would pay him ten dollars to leave it off. why then? my wife likes to watch news in the morning, and i like to watch chef ramsey without having to stand by the wall with my arms in the air.

the switch to digital has made free tv worth exactly what we pay for it. i'm down to two channels in the living room and one in the bedroom. during storms, the only weather reports we get are when a tree limb crashes onto our roof.

so i've signed a deal with the devil. god will forgive the shrimp, but i'm not sure about the cable. wait until next week when i, the last guy in america without a cell phone, may buy one just to get rid of the telemarketers who live on my landline. it will be all over then.

symptoms of being

there was a ring lardner book called symptoms of being 35 written in the 1920s that always sounded to me like symptoms of being 55. being 35 in the 1920s i reasoned is like being 55 now.

i overestimated.

being in one's mid forties is like being in one's mid thirties at the beginning of the last century.

here are some symptoms i've encountered recently:

today i had to fill out an insurance form and it required writing information from my check (which i also had to attach). i studied the microscopic print on the bank's address for many minutes--moving the check to various angles, looking for the right combination of light and focus which would enable me to determine if the zip code contained two sixes, two eights, or a six and an eight. i ended up looking up the bank online to get larger print.

we had a party at the house last friday, and the part of it that most satisfied me was that everyone was gone by 10:30 and i was asleep by 11:00.

my neck hurt today, and the reason wasn't a great strain or car accident. i had looked up at the ceiling.

i look forward to tomorrow evening, because i have nothing to do.