How to Fold a Pocket Square

It's a bit of a shame about the blog: I often don't get started on an entry until late in the day. For instance, I'm starting this entry at 5:23pm. At 5:23pm, most people are on their ways home, while I'm here, feeling like I'm just getting started. And I put a lot of effort into these words. It takes some time. Even the shitty entries take awhile. I hope this doesn't sound like a complaint. I'm not complaining. I actually enjoy these circumstances. I'm relaxing now. Tarkio's keeping me awake with banjos and bells, and, aside from the random e-mail, there are no more interruptions to keep me from writing, which is what I love most. I like this time. I like 5:23pm. I like my job. Which gets me to something else I wanted to mention, had I had the opportunity to simply mention it when it came to mind, rather than beating around the clock like this:

Sitting directly across from me in his own little PATH train seat, he's dressed in a bold pinstriped suit, which boasts, like a silver crown tattooed upon his chest, the neatest little pocket square I've ever seen. (It took me about twenty minutes to write that sentence. Maybe I devoted to it too much time.) He looks absolutely absurd. In a confident voice, so that we can all hear, he tells his companion about life and happiness, goals and work, this and that.

He tells a story about certain government workers who continue at their thankless jobs well into their seventies. They can't be forced to retire, he says. And he doesn't blame them for going on. They continue because at the end of an amount of time, they will finally be thanked by pensions. By pensions, they'll be thanked. They'll take that money, he says, and spend the rest of their days on boats.

One moment last week, while I was proofing some equipment report or column, it occurred to me that there really isn't much work to my work. My job, based mostly of reading and writing, reminds me an awful lot of what I did in school. It's been a fairly straightforward progression. It's not so bad. It's what I do.

Proofreading that equipment report or column, I thought to myself: I'm not just working. I'm living. What else would I be doing? I like my life. I like 6:03pm.

Though life, I've decided, would be nicer if I could walk to work. Or work from home. The commute is some days, today included, dreadful. I'm not as anti-social as I once was, but still: It's not so very pleasant to squeeze yourself against a dozen other bodies in a packed train, to press your palm up against a dirty ceiling for balance, to be pushed and stepped on, to journey through ten blocks of traffic while carrying a laptop and lunch. I'm not saying it's hard. I'm just saying it's unpleasant. It's certainly not as nice as sitting on your couch and pondering the pigeon problem.

I've got a million pigeons living on the roof directly above my apartment. They shit all over my fire escape, they threaten me as I come and go. They shit and flutter and shit some more. It's not so bad. It's what they do.

Al Marcy's picture

If you feed them, they will eat. You get out of life what you put in. Become a pigeon fatener :)Fresh sunflower seeds flown in from North Dakota are nice, in season.

Monty's picture

Fake Owls.

Ward's picture

I found the Tarkio stuff to be quite pleasant.

John Atkinson's picture

>They shit and flutter and shit some more. It's not so bad. It's what they do< On the other hand, Stephen," last week's episode of ""House"" was devoted to someone catching a potentially lethal parasite from water that had been contaminated from pigeon poop. :-(

Buddha's picture

The cases on house are about as credible as the claims made for ther Clever Little Clock.

For a guy who's astute enough to have a SOTA in his apartment, he should be able to figure out his damn cases by a quarter after instead of 5 'til the hour.

My wife watches, which is good, I guess. It gives me time to come in here and log on.

House is to medical drama as Fox News is to reportage.

Clay White's picture

Shame on you, John. It's bad enough that you watch that crap in the first place; trying to scare Stephen with it goes over the line.

Stephen Mejias's picture

>If you feed them, they will eat.I think what attracts them is the pizza crust dropped all over the sidewalk outside my place. There are two pizzerias which live, somehow, side by side. People walk in and out all day, chomp their slices, and drop the crust on the ground.The pigeons - and I - prefer Mama Mia's over Three Boys From Italy.

Stephen Mejias's picture

>Fake Owls. On the roof of my building lives a jolly green lion. He was put there, I imagine, to scare off the pigeons. He's covered in pigeon shit, too.

Stephen Mejias's picture

>I found the Tarkio stuff to be quite pleasant. I'm glad you liked it, Ward. When I first listened, it reminded me a bit of Dios(Malos), which you recommended to me.

Stephen Mejias's picture

>Shame on you, John. It's bad enough that you watch that crap in the first place; trying to scare Stephen with it goes over the line.Seriously, JA. I'm scared enough, as it is. I failed to mention that I have an air conditioner which blows into my bedroom. It rests stop the window sill there, and - like everything else - is covered in shit. This weekend, when the temperature approached 80 degrees F, I turned it on for the first time since last summer. All sorts of I don't know what came out of the filter and flew right into my face.If I'm not around in a few days, you'll know why.

Monty's picture

I'm not gonna mention Bird Flu, you have enough to worry about.

Jeff Wong's picture

I enjoy HOUSE, M.D. and I also recommend the fake pigeon route. Owls are natural predators of the flying rats and should scare them shitless. You can get them for 30 bucks at a hardware store, and I bet they're even cheaper at Home Depot.

Stephen Mejias's picture

>The other alternative would be a live hawk!! I dunno; a Jersey City pigeon against a hawk? The hawk might not make it.In any case, I'll have to talk to my landlord about it. He doesn't want any pets in the apartment.

Stephen Mejias's picture

>I'm not gonna mention Bird Flu, you have enough to worry about.Bird Flu, old parking tickets, shipping the July issue...

Stephen Mejias's picture

>Owls are natural predators of the flying rats and should scare them shitless. Plus, they're cool-looking. I'm now excited about decorating my home with owls. Owls on the roof, owls on the fire-escape, owls beneath the Ayre, owls atop the Aros. Maybe they'll make my system sound better, too.