The events of the day

Yesterday featured some notable events for me. Thursdays, as my loyal band of readers will recall, are the day that I have Toastmasters. I was ballot counter, but hope to give my next speech in a week or two. I'm not sure if I'll work with the speech I wrote about late night talk shows. I don't entirely like it as is, but it might work with some reorganization. Anyway, it was a good meeting in spite of being held in the smaller room this week. Concessions must be made occasionally to Warner Brothers.

Just prior to leaving for that meeting, I had discovered that I missed an express delivery through USPS. A friend had overnighted me tickets to the Dodgers' three exhibitions at Dodger Stadium prior to the opening of the regular season, and the first of the three was yesterday night. According to the slip left behind by the delivery man, the earliest I would be able to retrieve the shipment was the following morning- not an acceptable state of affairs! After the meeting, I called the post office, and was advised that I might possibly track down the mailman in my neighborhood and get the package from him before he returned to the post office. As I made my way back from the meeting, I plotted my plan of attack on finding my quarry.

I came upon the first mail vehicle on Lankershim just as I was getting back. Unfortunately, he was only doing pickups at the mailboxes, and suggested that I would find the right guy somewhere on the interior of my block. That led me to a second mail truck, whose driver turned out not to me my mailman. He sent me in the direction of the right guy, but alas! When I found my mailman, he told me that he was not responsible for the express shipments. Someone else was handling those, and who knows where he or she might be?

I called the post office again, talking to a man who said that the driver harboring my package would likely return to the post office by 4 o'clock, and that I should call then. I then called off my search and went home to wait and call.

I was, at this time, waiting for Henry Miller's salacious autobiographical novel Tropic of Cancer to arrive at the local branch of the library, and shortly after my return to the apartment, I discovered that it was in. Happily, the library was roughly in the same direction as the post office. I went off to collect my book, expecting that I would be able to head on the the post office not long after checking the book out.

Having gotten the book and being at the library, I went to kill some time at a computer station. I was going to need to work out a way to the stadium, since there was no apparent plan to continue the shuttle from Union Station which had been instituted as a trial during the latter half of last season. This did not present a ruinous hindrance to my plans.

4 came, and I made my call. The driver with my package had not come back yet, but the man on the phone promised to call when he did. I went back inside the library to wait. At 4 40, I decided that I had better get to the post office just in case. At 4 50, I went inside to get in line, also just in case there was a chance of getting the package before closing time at 5.

The first lady behind the counter didn't really know anything about it, but the man I had spoken to was evidently her superior, and went to look. He said that still the driver had not yet returned, but was kind enough to say that since he would be there at the office until 6 30, he would get me my package even after the closing time of 5.

I went across the street to the gas station, having not eaten all day and being hungry. I think my paternal grandmother would have said that you go to a gas station for gas and to a restaurant for food. I began to come along to that way of thinking after I had bought a sandwich and soda for no less than I would have paid at a fast food place. Perhaps the sandwich was a little healthier, but the giant Dr. Pepper did me no favors.

I went back to wait outside the post office and eat. Just as I had about finished my sandwich, the man came out with my package. I rushed over and went through the process of signing for it. I was grateful enough for his kindness that I gave him the two tickets for Friday night, which I would not be able to attend in any event.

That left me to try and get to Thursdays game, which was to begin at 7 10. It was at this time roughly 5 30. Plenty of time, really, though it takes longer when one uses public transportation. It also occurred to me that a friend needed to retrieve some equipment from me, and I should check with him. I stopped in at my apartment, and received word that the equipment could wait until I was going to see my friend again anyway the following evening.

I then went off to the game. I had to chase the bus down for half a block, but caught it. After that, I transferred to the subway, and then transferred again to a local bus which got me to the stadium. Actually, not quite to the stadium. That bus takes you to the bottom of a hill, and one must walk a good distance up the hill to reach the stadium. It's not fun, exactly, but I have fairly strong lungs.

I didn't recognize any of the security staff at the gate from last season. That was too bad: they had known me fairly well, and were apt to pass me through with little scrutiny. I may have to build up trust again this season. I did recognize two of the ticket takers, though, and one of the ushers after that. I didn't think I'd see any of the season ticket holders I've gotten to know over the past couple of season, but then a group of them showed up after the first inning. It was nice to reconnect. As friendly as you get with other people after seeing them many times at games, you don't tend to be in touch with them during the off season.

The game was fairly nice. The Dodgers won, I believe, 6-2. The game offered hope for the upcoming season. After the game, I made it hope all right, though it takes longer with many buses no longer running at that time.I might have needed to walk a while after getting off the subway, but that bus was still running. I would have skipped it if it would have meant waiting longer that it would take me to walk the rest of the way, but it was about the same, so I waited. I was offered oxycontin and percocet, but declined. I think I remember that guy from another time, though I think then he might have just been begging. This neighborhood can be a little ragged.

After I got home, I squeezed in a movie and read a while. Happily, I got up at a good hour this morning. Not the noble hour my father wakes up at, but pretty good for me (7).

That's all for now. I expect to have more to say after I go to another of the Peace Gatherings which I believe I've written about in the past.