Curb Side

I'm curb side 5:31 every morning, Monday through Friday. Most Saturdays and Sundays I'm there too. In front of my house, half the year it is completely dark and cold. The usual car drives by with a screech and half-stop at the house numbers painted on my sloping curb without a sidewalk. For me, the driver of the car is the most appreciated person of the day. With a heart-felt greeting, I start each morning at my best, "hola". The driver responds with a wide awake, "good morning". I mean it when I give her the best "gracias" a gringo can give as she speeds away. In a strange way, we connect with each other each morning for a moment at the curb. She drives with the windows down, so I hope she is dressed warm enough on cold mornings. I worry about her if she is late. I know her schedule, so Thursday and Friday I have my coffee mug in hand too. Most days, I go to the curb first. If I'm quick enough she hands it to me. I catch it if my timing is less-than-perfect, and we smile. Otherwise, she's gone: I stretch my back and bend over and wish I was younger and had less back pain in the mornings. For the first hours of my life every morning, my newspaper is my life. It gives me confidence. It assures my family with regularity that we've made sense of the world as best we can. And I don't need to click 30 times to read 5 stories; I read 100, with 20 page turns. It is simple: if MY newspaper stopped publishing in my town, I would want to move or die. Heck, I would choose my newspaper over indoor plumbing if I had to make a choice. How much progress are you willing to give up?

Win

The marginalized moved on, worry eased, fear died slowly, favorite walls and floors stripped bare, prior losses reconciled, phones left to ring, trusted players finally knew their plays were plans changed since carefully called. On the backs of diligent movers, proud, our film begins on a cold day. Don't break THAT! You can put THAT in the FAMILY room! Thick stoic pictures strung together form their secret dream. Passionate vines bend and grow long like trails of memories to view, weave into clinchers in closing minutes. In the end, behind manicured borders, under the previous owner's fallen leaves - thank the blast or the beetle - the old stone path always laid. It led to the open and loving home, past the halls and waiting rooms of some hearts. We stepped in and focused on an effectuated win:win.

Animated

Being drawn into an animator's dream is like living in a perfect world - elastic, bendable, out-of-the box world. Out the window against cutout backdrops and exaggerated landscapes, we watch public sites fly by. Our animator has been busy creating places, magical fiefdoms connected by trains. Point-A to Point-B trains, horizontal trains, perpendicular trains, trains which never stop, only exchange compartments and move people without pause. Trains side-by-side converge, diverge, re-converge, match speed for a moment, then off, one left, one right. Stacked rails, transitional rooms, aligned passage ways, elevated couplings, worlds briefly joined then released. Orchestral dashboards blink and sing. Buses drive on and off in-flight trains as staged components Google preparatory checklists and instruction sets. Everyday mechanism meets automation: “Input your destination please.” Signals sound, and handheld GPS devices navigate and direct. Overpopulation and having to make a purposeful trek are less intrusive thanks to the invention of the implanted earpiece. Reverse is to the left two compartments, forward is to the right as drafted and planned. Actual data is sent to Production Control for analysis and comparison. Travelers love the way they move so fast. Families on vacation, commuters on early morning missions, laborers tired after immensely productive days, or just lost souls - are soothed by a continuous hum and vibration. Two to the right is the local train. In four minutes, one up and two to the left, a train travels east. Having to stop to collect and dispense cargo is such a waste of time when the world is large, always growing, always moving, never stopping, never wanting to wait to live – and so 21st century! It is always about the journey, not the wait they say: fast, moderate, and slow speeds, never still, applied to express, airport integrated, and local lines traversing long, midrange, and short distances. Each change procedure passes boarding and disembarking audits. With a beep in your ear, our attentions are diverted. “This is your 'stop'. Follow the arrows toward your destination please. If you miss this transition, please wait for the next car - ETA: 5 minutes, 20 seconds. Have a nice day." Blue light indicates ready. Object loaded, carrier unlocked and then relinquished. Like clockwork the carrier is received and locked, clip secured, transition quality checked, and status updated: "object delivered"; Green light indicates the manifest match was successful.