Cute or What

A good friend of mine named Sanchez posted this on his fb page and at first I didn't think it was a photo. I'm not sure this isn't the cutest baby pic I've ever seen. I'm guessing this little one is related to my OOAK buddy. If being related to Sanchez has anything to do with the genetic makeup of this child, the parents better buckle-up and get ready for action. And I agree with that left-hand sentiment plenty of times. Look at this...there is still love in this Universe. I promise there is. You just have to look a little further these days. Peace.

Toad in the Hole

This is a post hole on the patio left over from nearly a year ago. Rather than buying a 50-lb bag of cement to fill a 5" hole we covered it with a potted plant. Today Sally was moving some things around and noticed that the hole had a denizen. He's a bullfrog. I've never seen a square bullfrog. You may have a hard time seeing him to begin with, but you can't see his whole body because some of it is buried in the dirt.
 I've seen a trillion frogs but never one this wide for his length and not even close. He's almost like a different variety. He's Frogga the Hut for sure. I'm dying to take him out and marvel at him but I wouldn't do that, and he's made himself so completely at home that he looks like he's growing out of the ground. It's not quite like an iceberg thing, but there's still a surprising amount of him below the surface. Every time we water the plants a bit of soil falls through and covers him a bit more. I'll keep an eye out.
 I'm not sure at this point if he could get out if he wanted to. I guess maybe he could still hop, but that's a pretty good jump from where he sits. It's a velvet prison. For all I know he may have hopped down in there just to get warm when he was 1/2" long and never left. Once he figured out that unsuspecting bugs would crawl down into his home and right up to his nose, which probably didn't take long, apparently it didn't take much to convince him to stay. He's made himself right at home. He didn't seem to care at all when his flower-pot roof got temporarily removed. He didn't flinch when Sally reached in there to pull out a couple of sweetgum balls. Hopefully he'll be more comfortable.
 He may be the biggest and squarest frog I've ever seen in my life, but he's also got the best gig by far. He doesn't have to move a millimeter to eat. The bugs can't tell him from the rest of the hole until it's too late. By now he must feel absolutely entitled. I'll be checking on him frequently now that I know he's there. I doubt he's going anywhere. He already takes up half the space, and even though you can't really see from this image he fills it up pretty solid. In another year or two he's going to grow to fill the entire hole and he's going to be a gigantic square frog. I wish I could find him some lo-cal bugs or get him a treadmill or something, but at least I can help keep him comfortable and make sure he's able to hibernate correctly. I don't have to worry about feeding him. He's got that under control. I'm honestly not sure I've ever seen a living thing so at one with its surroundings. Now I feel responsible for him and I'll do my best to see that he lives a good long square life. A square frog. Wow. I never.

Lyrics of the Day

"You've got what must belong to me
I need, I'll bleed for more possessions
You- You've got no right to disagree
Bow, kneel, or fear my aggressions
(Be glad if sometimes your oyster holds a pearl
And the world became the world)"

from "The World Became The World" by PFM. Lyrics by Pete Sinfield

studio version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bg-ckudBb5Q

Friended

I love this shit. Don't you love getting friend requests from hookers? Or is it just old farts like me? After the first one I learned pretty quickly who was who. Some requests from young women are legit because I met them on a meteor site but most are hookers. I guess it's a morbid fascination maybe, but to me it's just another of those quirky human-interest things. Before I delete these I can't resist clicking on their pages to see what's up. A few actually bother to make their page look legit, but most of these gals are straight-up hookers. I love it. Social media strikes again.
 Since these fine folks seem to have no qualms about putting their images in the public domain, I don't have a problem posting this. Hey, I'm happy to give her the exposure. Looks like she could use some more gigs. Problem with that is that no one reads this blog besides Dave and TPTB, and TPTB can suck it. Maybe I'll get her a client. Never know. Anything I can do to help.
 She is hot; I'll give her that. If truth be told, if I weren't such a stud I can't say I might not try to peruse the services of someone like this, but luckily I don't have to. Apparently the same can't be said for the four fellas who had the balls to actually friend her and have their images displayed. Yeah, sure...an eighteen year-old has friends in their fifties. The few brave assholes you see who occasionally friend one of these ladies are the main reason I click on these pages to begin with. They make ME look good usually. Of course these days every bit of it besides the contact info could be bullshit, but I like to think it's legit. Look at these fuckers. Maybe they're okay guys, but they ain't exactly in her age group. Wonder if they've given her their credit-card numbers yet.

Here's her friends. Nice guys. Again, you never know. Maybe they're just helping her out with her college tuition. Dude on upper left sorta reminds me of Kojack; the bald TV detective who always had a sucker in his mouth. Dude on the upper right...well, there's no telling what he might be into. Dude on the bottom won't even show his whole face. Smart. If it were me I think I'd put up a generic "silhouette" as my profile pic. If this page is legit and she sees those guys, she's going to think "Man, I'm going to need some HEAVY drugs to hang with those fuckers." You made your bed, girlfriend. I hope she moonlights waiting tables or something.
 Well, that's my little excursion into the dark side for today. I hope you enjoyed it. Good luck, sister.

Photo of the Day

Here's lookin' at yas.

Quote of the Day

"That is Ferrari-level acceleration. It's impressive." - Alex Roy, rally car driver, on the Tesla-S electric vehicle's acceleration

Quote of the Day

"I know these Porsches, and the older they get the cheaper they get, but parts become megar expensive." - Mike Brewer, of Wheeler Dealers

Accidental Memory Tricks

Like many people I use memory tricks to help remember stuff. Luckily I read a couple of books in high school that taught people to strengthen their powers of observation, and to be able to lock in important facts better. I'm trying to avoid the dreaded "sticky note" years, where I'll have to carry around a pad of sticky notes and write down every single thing I need to remember, and stick it right in the middle of my forehead if I have to. I can say that I've gone well past the age where most people have to do that. Apparently I use these tricks when I'm not even aware of it.
 Yesterday morning I woke up around 4:30 and couldn't get back to sleep. I decided for old times' sake that I'd bop down to the river and watch the sunrise. It's been a while. I was planning to leave when it was still just a shade above dark. I got my camo shorts and loaded up the pockets with all my shit and filled the water bottle and everything, but I knew I was forgetting something. It was one of those deals where it really bugs you because you know it's important, so you go back to the last room you were in; hoping something will jar your missing memory and wishing you'd used a sticky note.
 I've been going down there nearly every day lately and I've been filming these long, lo-res "living wallpaper" videos, where it's basically a screensaver with Nature sounds. I've gotten the routine down as far as what I need, and I did remember that whatever it was, I needed it, but somehow it was something besides my usual gear. I spent the next ten minutes walking from room to room like a dummy, and feeling dumber by the minute. I should mention that the "jukebox in my head" thing where I put up classic songs here is very real. Any time I'm not reading or typing or doing anything that requires full concentration I usually spin a song in my head. I was bopping around with P-Funk blaring in my skull. Funk has motion, so it's a good choice for me in the morning. So I wasn't paying attention when I was listening to da Funk play on my jukebox. In fact I was isolating the synth part (ARP?) in my head and thinking what a great; if dated, phrase it was, and I wasn't paying as much attention to the vocals as I usually would.
 Finally it was getting light out and I decided that if I couldn't remember it then I could probably get along fine without it. I was wrong. It was still too dark to be in the woods with no Moon. I was reaching for the doorknob when the chorus came in and I noticed the vocals. The song in my head was "Flashlight." I laughed and went downstairs and grabbed my forgotten headlamp. My brain was looking out for my dumb ass and I didn't even know it. That's kinda funny. Thanks, brain, and Funk saves the day yet again. What a team.

Jukebox in My Head (selection K83)

"It's Going to Take Some Time" by Carole King (sung by the Carpenters). For years I carried around a deep, dark secret. I loved the Carpenters. Still do. Karen's voice gives me chill bumps every time I hear it. I wasn't overly-enamored by sweet, gentle music put out by most artists, with notable exceptions of course, but the Carpenters were way different, and their music really spoke to me somehow. Overall it was Karen's voice and those motherfucker harmonies that got me hooked.
 I'll never forget the day I learned that not only was Karen a monster drummer, but that she actually played drums on the first few records until they literally dragged her; kicking and screaming, out from behind the kit and up front where she "belonged." She talked many times about how she was crushed when she learned that she could no longer play drums on records or live. God, I felt her pain.
 Without divulging the fact that I love the music itself, I tried to hip people to the fact that Karen was such an amazing drummer but it usually fell on deaf ears. Even most of my open-minded drummers didn't buy it. I think in their case they were thinking that there were already enough male drummers to go around and why did we need women. I think it was a threat to their egos maybe, but in those days people had a hard time getting over the stereotype of drums being a masculine instrument, and guys didn't play flute unless they were a little light in the loafers and stupid shit like that.
 I'd be talking to my drummer buddies. "No, man...Karen's really good." "Bullshit, man." "No, really. She's a badass." "A GIRL? You're tripping." "Okay." Back then in addition to Karen we had Mo Tucker from Velvet Underground, but only Leon and I were into the Velvets. There was Sandy Whatshername from the Runaways, but nobody listened to them. There was no Youtube or Internet to pull up a vid that showed Karen running around in split-screen; first playing Jazz on the kit like Buddy Rich, and moving on to vibes and orchestral percussion; on to a marching-band rig and back to the kit for a monster solo, so nobody believed she could play the drums better than they could or ever would. That kind of thinking just didn't compute for most people. They almost viewed female drummers as unattractive. I was the other way around.
 For decades my dream was to find and fall in love with some gnarly female percussionist like Ruth Underwood or someone like that. We'd go play gigs and swap instruments occasionally; just like switching positions later in the night. We'd smile at each other all night and our licks would be perfectly coordinated and we'd make beautiful music together literally and figuratively, and then we'd go home and fuck like a couple of percussive rabbits until the cows come home. Yep...that's what I wanted to do. I never pulled it off but the odds against it actually happening I'm sure were astronomical. Maybe in another life.
 I finally came out of the closet about my Carpenter love about twenty years ago, and it was blessed relief. My buddy O' matter-of-factly told me how much he loved the Carpenters, and our bond of friendship was immediately strengthened. I realized that loving the Carpenters was okay, and that there were other people out there who shared my feelings. It had been so lonely thinking I was the only one. O' and I bonded over the Carpenters many times. Much to the chagrin of my former girlfriend, our apartment was centrally located and often used as ground zero for our after-gig wind-downs. Every musician worth his or her salt knows that after a gig, the adrenaline makes it impossible to go to sleep without first ingesting stupid quantities of alcohol or other substances and goofing with your buds and laughing all the rest of the energy out of your body. There's no other way.
 I have to mention this again because it's hilarious. Many nights after gigs in town it would be just O' and me at the apt. Invariably we'd put on Carpenters. We'd take a song and disassemble it. We'd talk about the vocals and compare chill bumps when those angelic and breathtaking harmonies kicked in like the sky opening up. We'd talk about the drums; whether it was Karen playing on the track or Tutt or Hal Blaine or whomever. The drumming on every Carpenters track was exactly what the Song Doctor ordered, but as much love and respect as I have for Hal, Karen had something truly special. Richard largely lived in his sister's shadow, but without him the Carpenters would've never happened.
 He wrote most of the music, and what was great about that is that he wrote out all the parts with the vocals in mind, and they fit like a glove. He'd casually toss off these keyboard licks that were just crazy-cool and tasty. I still love the sound of a Fender Rhodes piano, and that and acoustic piano were his main axes. He'd do these keyboard runs that were so damn perfect that they'd make O' and me laugh. We'd have to rewind ten times to hear it yet again, and every time we'd dissolve into laughter. My poor, patient ex worked normal business hours mostly, and she was robbed of many valuable hours of sleep because of the Carpenters, and Richard specifically. She couldn't get as mad at us as perhaps she'd liked, because the joviality was highly-contagious. It led to one of the funniest things I ever heard her say.
 I came home one afternoon and she was on the phone with one of her friends. She was telling her about how she dreaded it when we played gigs at Zydeco or somewhere else in town, because she knew O' and I would be showing up about 3:30am and laughing our asses off until dawn. The saving grace was that it was mostly on the weekends, but we played plenty of "school nights" too. She was giving her friend a general synopsis of what went on, and she said "They rewind...they laugh...they rewind...they laugh." I almost fell over laughing. Bless her heart...she nailed it. O' and I still say that to this day.
 I have to mention something here that was phenomenal. My ex had a voice like an absolute angel, but usually she was too shy to sing in front of people. It was a shame, but if she was in the right mood she'd bust loose and blow everybody's mind. Fortunately she sometimes felt comfortable with just O' and me as an audience. I don't know how but she could sing all of Karen's parts to a T. It was uncanny and beautiful. I've heard people sing Carpenters but never like she could. It was one of the biggest treats in the world when she'd decide that if she couldn't beat us she might as well join us, and out of nowhere in she'd walk in and burst into song. O' and I would tear up sometimes. It was heavy. We'd all laugh and sing and cry and hug and there was no better feeling on this planet. I have a lump in my throat right now. That was one of those unsung jewels that you could never put a price on. It was amazing and O' and I cherish the memories to this day. My ex and I didn't exactly part on the best of terms, but she can't totally hate me. She couldn't make iced tea when we first met, and by the time we broke up she was an excellent cook. Plus there was the magic we shared over the Carpenters. That made our lives a little bit better.
 I'm half-joking about hiding my love for the Carpenters, but I rarely brought it up. For a proper rocker, as I was envisioned, to be into love songs and harmonies and STRINGS, for God's sake, wasn't cool. If you happen to harbor a secret love for the Carpenters, let that shit out. It's perfectly okay to love the Carpenters. It's okay.

"It's Going to Take Some Time" studio version. Enjoy:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8kJVMULKRE

Cosmic Coincidence #47,792,972,223,805,883,494

I've heard more than one person lately say that they seem to be noticing more crazy coincidences. For me it's been off the charts, and I'm accounting for things like observational bias and all that. Just the coincidences related to this random bunch of people I recently met on the Internet is bonkers. The site in question is called livemeteors.com. It tracks incoming meteors by recording radar pings from the ionized tails of meteors, in the VHF band.
 What's interesting about this situation is that I've been going to the site several times a year since it's been in operation, and sometimes I was the only soul on the site, and I never noticed anyone in the chat room. Then again until just recently I never paid any attention to the trolls and assholes in chat rooms anyway so maybe I never noticed, but I don't think anyone was ever on much. It almost sounds like the beginning to a movie, but it was like I was all alone in the Cosmos; listening to the occasional ping of a meteor burning up somewhere overhead, and then all of the sudden these amazing people show up out of nowhere, and they're actually worth engaging in conversation. What happened was that some of the main guys on Youtube started to take notice of all the increased activity and were putting up images from the site, so these people hopped over to the site to check it out for themselves, and a core group became friends.
 Yesterday afternoon I popped in to see who was on and say hi, and there were at least three assholes that were just being total pricks. I get trolls, and HIGHLY-PAID trolls, and assholes looking for a fight, and bored teens and so on, but this was rough and a little disturbing. These guys were just everyday assholes. Hey, we get it. Have your fun and go play somewhere else. Angry, hateful people leave a digital stench. I never said anything in a chat room for that reason, and I'm not about to engage fools. It was harsh. Right before I bowed out to watch a storm and check radar someone made a comment about needing the "Youtube Police" to come out. Everybody "lol'd" but about six comments later, someone with the handle of "Youtube Police" with a wrench icon, came on and said "what's going on." I literally almost choked on a sip of coffee laughing. Everybody let out an LOL at the same time. It was classic.
 I thought one of the regulars had hopped onto their channel and created another channel with that name just to get a laugh, but I wondered how they did it so quickly. Once I realized that it was just an ordinary bozo I lost it. It only gradually dawned on everyone just how crazy it really was. I'm sure they thought the same thing I had. The "Youtube Police" with a wrench had never shown up on the site before. It's possible they'd been listening in but I don't think so. It was random. I know they weren't there long before that person made the comment, and no one had seen them before. It's just one of many cosmic coincidences that seems to happen constantly lately. I'm really not surprised very much by surprises these days. That was hilarious.

Black-Eyed Adults? (rewritten from an old blog)

There's a phenomenon that's been reported over the last few years that's referred to as "black-eyed kids," or BEKs for short. Supposedly these creepy kids show up at people's front doors and ask to be let in with some excuse, and at some point the people notice that the kids' eyes are solid black. It's been widely reported. It sounds like some Halloween prank or something that nutjobs make up to get attention, but it's been reported by what's known as "credible witnesses" plenty of times. Luckily I've never seen any BEKs myself , but I did see some black-eyed adults once.
 The last time I told this story to anyone was several years back when I told it to my bro-in-law. He was polite enough to let me finish, but as soon as I did he came up with his own conclusion, that he'd no doubt made even before I told the story...it was all bullshit, and either I was having an acid flashback or some sort of seizure or something. In a way I get it, and that's typical of what most people say when they hear something that doesn't fit into their little box of perception, but it always amazes me that they'll take time to make up a scenario that suits their belief system yet DOESN'T EXIST, rather that take even two seconds to allow for the possibility that truth is stranger than fiction, and maybe...just maybe it really did happen. One thing beyond dispute is that while this happened decades ago I remember it like it was yesterday.
 I tried to tell him that it was my junior year in high school and I was a late bloomer and hadn't even gotten drunk yet; much less taken acid; nor had I had epilepsy or a seizure disorder. It's hard to have an acid flashback when you've never taken acid. From what I hear most flashbacks last either just a few seconds, or the rest of your life. I'd say in my case it'd have to be the latter, only I hadn't indulged. The first part of the incident took place directly in front of several tables of diners not twenty feet away, who were looking as much as they could without appearing to be staring, because the people in question were so unusual they couldn't help it. If I'd had even a small seizure I'd have frozen for at least a few seconds, and someone would've seen it and called paramedics. But if you still want to say it's bullshit and I'm tripping, I get it.
 I grew up in a huge, beautiful church that takes up half a city block. On Wednesday nights we'd get together in a huge hall and have dinner and then clear out the tables and play volleyball. I'll say also that I had had a puff of weed or two by then maybe but I'd never even been seriously drunk, and due to my upbringing I had a self-imposed stigma against being altered in any way when I was in the Lord's house. I did accidentally break that rule once or twice, with incredibly hilarious results, but I never went to church drunk or high usually, and I wasn't that night.
 I drove an amazing car called a VW Squareback. That night I had to bow out of the game early to take a friend of mine to the airport. When I got back everyone had packed up and left a little early. I had some school books I needed and sometimes the building was left unlocked, but not that evening. I decided to go on home. I started my car, but when I pressed the clutch pedal it went all the way to the floor like a wooden spoon in a pot of spaghetti. It wouldn't engage any gear and I figured the cable had snapped. I looked underneath and didn't see anything broken, but I was stuck. I called a few friends but they were out. I finally called home but mom told me that dad was in a meeting and she'd relay the message when she could, so I knew I had at least an hour to kill. I never did mind walking around that part of town and it was a beautiful evening so I took off around to the front of the building.
 No sooner did I hit the sidewalk when an interesting-looking couple approached. They were very attractive and they looked to be mid-20s maybe. They were immaculately dressed in solid black. They both had on black shirts, slacks, jackets and boots, and it was all high-quality stuff. You could definitely say that they weren't from around here. They almost glowed. The woman had straight, light-blond hair; light, blue-green eyes and she was stunning. The guy was also what I'd call very good-looking, and he had dark hair. They looked almost too perfect somehow. They approached me with a question and I was all too happy to help. I was curious about them, and to interact was a bonus.
 They stopped and asked me if there was a gas station nearby. That made sense. I figured they were just passing through and got stuck, and anyone here would've known that there was a 24-hour Shell station a few long blocks away. I think there's a nursery there now but at the time it was one of the only stations in town open late. We were standing maybe fifty feet from the corner that was the only turn they'd need to make to get to it. I told them to take a left, and in about fifteen minutes they'd be there. The next few blocks went sharply uphill and there was a turn to the right and then a sharp curve to the left and then the home stretch downhill to the Shell. It was twisty and turny and hilly but no problem if they just hung a louie and followed the road until they got there. After I politely told them the simple directions they looked confused. "What if we get lost?" asked the girl. "You can't get lost" I replied. "What if we can't find it?" asked the guy. "You can't miss it" I replied. "But what if...what if..." they kept saying. It got completely ridiculous.
 This went back and forth a few times until I summoned the last bit of patience I had and laid out a verbal journey of their trip; step-by-step. "Okay" I started. "You go up to the corner" I said and pointed to the corner big as shit just a few yards away. "Then you take a left, okay? You go one block, and then you go up, up, up the hill and around the corner. Right?" They looked at me like they didn't know what directions were. "Okay, right?" I said again. No reply. "Okay. Go up the hill and you'll bear to the right, and then you'll go around a sharp turn to the left, and you'll catch a beautiful view of the city. If you look up you'll see a huge-ass metal man named Vulcan. He has a lit-up torch and he's really big. Can't miss him. When you see the big giant iron man, you're almost there, and as soon as you round the corner you'll see the sign. It's no problem as long as you stay on the sidewalk. Take a left and you'll be there in a bit."
 They weren't satisfied and I wondered if they were completely from a different part of the planet where they didn't have cities or something, or they were just whacked out of their minds on drugs and decided to dress to the nines for the occasion, which could have well have been the case, but if it was it was like no "trip" I've ever seen anyone on. They did look a bit overdressed and perfect for our fair city, but until the endless stupid questions they seemed relatively normal and quite sober. I'd had enough though and I said "Good evening and good luck" and turned to walk the other way, but then they both addressed me in a weird language, and I sort of froze. The both began speaking to me in some odd tongue that sounded like half gibberish and half legit. I've always been into language and the roots of words and things like that, and many times I can at least take a guess where a certain language stems from, but this sounded like nothing, and I mean nothing that I've ever heard before or since. I couldn't describe it now or then but I remember the creep factor going off the charts.
 If that weren't enough their eyes got dark. Again, it's possible they were on some heavy drugs and their pupils got huge right then, but I really doubt it. It seemed like the whole pupil and iris got dark; like those colored contacts the Goth folks wear these days. I was looking right into their eyes; both of them, and I saw them get dark. I can't say they turned perfectly 100% black like the BEKs, but I clearly saw them darken noticeably. That wasn't the weirdest part to me but it was icing on a very bizarre cake. I was already beyond annoyed with questions coming from people who didn't look like they should be so apparently clueless, but that took it into an entirely different thing.
 I was spooked for sure but I was so fascinated that I stayed for a minute. They didn't change expressions but they were looking straight into my eyes as if they were earnestly telling me something, and expected me to understand. I hoped they'd revert back to Earth languages but they didn't, and all I can say is that the feeling turned a little too sinister for my liking. "I'm afraid I can't help you" I said and turned back and headed up an alley to my car. I didn't know if they were just lost as fuck, or high, or Aliens or maybe demons, but I'd had enough fun with the Beautiful People for one night. Apparently they didn't think so.
 I was sitting there like a dummy trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened. I'm sure the people in the restaurant were wondering too, although they certainly didn't get the full picture. I was sitting on a wall by my car and waiting for the strange people to leave, but they seemed to want to hang around and fuck with me some more, or at least I'm assuming it was still them although I never saw them after we spoke. Next thing I knew I heard two differently-pitched, overlapping sets of "Clip-Clops." Apparently they were walking up the same alley. Again I'm assuming it was them, but it was definitely a larger and smaller person in boots walking together and headed my way. I wasn't thrilled about it but I didn't feel any more weirded-out than I already was.
 There were people nearby in several establishments and at the time there was a police station two blocks away. I didn't feel the need to summon help, but it soon became apparent that whomever it was, they were fucking with me on purpose. I wasn't afraid of getting my ass kicked, but they'd turned so freaky all of the sudden and if they were something slightly other than human, which really wouldn't have surprised me, they might've had ray guns or evil powers or something. I didn't know what to think at that point. I really can't describe how strange and spooky it was. I wish I could've recorded that language.
 They were coming up the alley and my first thought was that maybe they were so bloody stupid or high that they'd missed the turn. They walked up the alley until they got just shy of the corner, and right around from where I was sitting. I figured they were getting their bearings and would keep on walking, but after a few seconds they turned around and walked back down the alley. I was glad to see them go. Next thing I knew, about a minute later I heard the same boots walking up 21st Street and around to the other side of the building. Sure enough they stopped just right at the corner and out of sight. There were thick bushes there and they lingered a few seconds. I heard rustling and I knew they were probably looking at me even though I couldn't see them. Then they went back down the street and the sound disappeared, only to return a minute later coming back up the alley. Shit.
 At that point I wasn't sure whether to get out of there or what, but I stayed put. They did the same thing again and repeated it several times. I knew as long as they weren't directly threatening me I was okay, but even back in those gentler times, with people acting like that, anything's possible. That's little-kid shit, like ringing doorbells and running off. I didn't expect that shit from the overly-proper-looking people with the eyes that matched their outfits. Then again I didn't expect any of the other crazy shit either. The walking business continued a good half-hour, which is crazy in itself, and it was only when I heard my dad driving up the alley did the footsteps stop.
 The first words out of my mouth to my dad were what did he think about those people he just passed, and he said he didn't see anybody. My jaw dropped because they'd just been coming up the alley and he should have had to slow down to pass them safely. Like an idiot I asked him if he was sure he didn't see two people dressed all in black, and he looked at me like probably most people reading this would. "Uhh..." I decided to keep quiet for a minute, because that was truly fucked-up. I was shaking my head and thinking that they were possibly either Aliens, and they'd beamed up, or demons, and they'd beamed down. Either way or not, people don't just disappear. The only saving grace and the only thing probably that doesn't make that last part seem totally absurd is that there was a very short stairwell that started at street-level and went down a half-dozen steps to a side door to the playroom. We used to duck down in there and hide from cars all the time. When we were kids. They could've easily seen the car coming from way off and ducked down in the stairwell and completely disappeared. That's the only logical explanation. I asked dad to go back down the alley and I looked over the railing but there was nobody there. In the ensuing distractions and noise from dad and me trying to find out what was wrong with the car, they could've easily slipped away unheard.
 That's just one of those gifts that keeps on giving and I ponder it from time to time. It's way up in the WTF files. My best guess is I don't know. I do know one thing for sure...they definitely weren't from around here.