The Sandman Cometh

There are some very odd people out at night. From the dining room window again I watched an intoxicated male stumble up the street on Ropewalk Lane. He stopped just behind a road construction sign, lit a cigarette and then sat on the curb. I stayed at the window and watched him. He stayed sat at the curb as a RNC patrol car drove by. They slowed down to give him a quick look and continued on their way.

After a few minutes, I saw the guy take something out of his pants pocket. I continue to watch as I try to figure out what he was doing. I saw him reach over to the sand bag, which is weighing the construction sign down. He  ran his hand over the length of the sand bag. I then realized he was using a pocket knife to cut the bag open. He placed the knife back into his pocket.

Looking around to see if anyone was watching, he did something that would make anybody consider his mental state of mind; he began to fill his pockets up with sand! Handful after handful he placed the sand into his front pockets, then his back pockets, then into the pockets of his jacket!

The guy continued this for a few minutes, stopping every few seconds to look around as if he is stealing something very valuable. With his pockets filled to capacity, he began to walk away. Unfortunately with all the extra weight in his pants, his pants fell to the ground; and with his intoxication, so did his face! He tripped in his fallen pants and had one nasty face plant onto the pavement, which I am sure left a mark. Slowly picking himself up, he continued up the street, one hand holding his pants, the other holding his sore face! But what did he need that sand for? One could only imagine.

I found the whole incident quite interesting and quite funny. At three thirty in the morning it really gave a new meaning to the word sandman!

In Flanders Fields

by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Inspiration for the Poem:

During the Second Battle of Ypres, a Canadian artillery officer, Lieutenant Alexis Helmer, was killed on 2 May, 1915 by an exploding shell. He was a friend of Major John McCrae, a Canadian military doctor.

Major McCrae was asked to conduct the burial service, due to the chaplain being called away on duty elsewhere. It is believed that later that evening John began the draft for his famous poem 'In Flanders Fields'.

Things You See At Night

Last night I was waiting for my tea bag to soak in my cup and as usual I was standing at the window of the dining room, looking toward the Esso station on the corner of Ropewalk Lane and Empire Avenue. The Esso station is closed overnight but for security reasons, all the lights are left on, which makes it look as though the place is open. Many people drive to the pumps, only to realize the place is closed. While looking out the window I noticed a car driving very slowly toward the entrance, but before entering, the car stopped, halfway out into the road. Seems as though the car ran out of gas. The driver must of been so relieved to have made it so close to a gas station.

A young fella steps out of the car and tries to push the car, from the driver's side door, up the little grade toward the pumps. He didn't have much luck. After speaking to someone else in the car, a young lady steps out, dressed to the nines in high heels and mini skirt, looking apparently miffed at the driver. She reluctantly goes to the back of the car and begins pushing. After some effort they manage to push the car to a gas pump. The young lady gets back into the passenger seat and the driver goes to the pump and takes out his wallet. He places the gas nozzle into his car and after pushing some buttons on the tank and beginning an argument with his passenger through the car  window, he realizes the station is closed!

Then the guy lost it! First he started swinging his fists in the air and then he started pounding on the hood of the car. He even kicked a tire and looked as though he injured his foot. I started laughing because it reminded me of the British sitcom Fawlty Towers episode where Basil Fawlty (played by John Cleese) begins beating his car with a tree branch.

The young fella eventually calmed down and took out a cell phone and then hobbled away from the car, leaving his female passenger in the car. She didn't stick around for long, as a car came shortly, which she got into and left. Hopefully she wasn't on a date! The young fella came back about 30 minutes later with a gas can and managed to get the car moving again.

Sometimes the most entertaining things are not on television, but just outside your window. Especially at 3 o'clock in the morning!