Thursday, June 14, 2018

Not in a While

Continuing on in the tradition of habit, routine and sheer momentum, here is another blog post. The truth is I have about two hours to kill before I even think about dinner--and I'm not hungry anyway--and it's too hot to go outside, especially since I just took a shower and don't really want to take a second one before I go to bed.
It's hot, it's humid, it's Kansas City. I note, however, that it's a little early in the summer to be flirting with 100 degrees and this kind of humidity. 
I am preparing to move (again...) but it's a ways off and it's possibly just a little too early to start packing things up right now, but I have been giving some thought to those things that I haven't touched since I last moved, and the things that are still basically packed up. The latter will take care of itself. I just move the same boxes again.  Good to go. 
Why am I moving (again...)? The noise from the air conditioning compressors, all seven of them, that sit on the roof right above me, making humming, droning, throbbing noises that get inside my head and make me crazy. I've been here seven months.  That's not a bad run. I accept the fact that this is all part bad luck and part quirkiness on my part. I am "sensitive" to this kind of noise, I guess. I also accept that if this is true, it's part ageing, and part more quirkiness on my part. 
At any rate, I found a very nice place to lease.  It sits right in the middle of what I have always considered the nicest part of Kansas City, and one of the most interesting.  I have the entire top floor (it is an up/down duplex--the other tenant has the ground floor) and I have a garage, finally, and I can actually fit my car into it.  This will the first time that has happened since about the year 1999. So, bonus. 

About the picture, below: This was a little grocery store of a type that filled a niche in the 50s and 60s, back before gas stations had grocery stores (or grocery stores had gas stations.) This was the Milk Jug. When I first moved to Independence in the late 60s, it was here, and although it's closed now, the building and the sign still remain. This is how Independence works. 

I still remember buying cases of PBR for $4 here. 

Nothing ever changes in Independence.

2 comments:

  1. I'm so glad you're moving away from those awful, noisy compressors! It makes me a little bit nutz to imagine living with them day in/out honestly. It's like having the Saturday morning leaf blower dude...

    SOME IDIOT IS PRACTICING THE FLUTE RIGHT NOW AND IT IS MAKING ME INSANE!

    Just had to say this. I know it isn't the worst thing. Not as bad as the compressors (or the leaf blowers), but they're practicing the same 10 notes over and over and over and

    Excuse me while I go scream. Thanks.

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  2. I had that leaf blower guy. Right across the street. It would take him four hours to suck leaves into bags when he could have done it with a rake in 30 minutes. He might have used a rake, for all I know, if they made one with a siren on it or something.

    Sorry about the flute. At least it's not bagpipes.

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