A view of life and commercial real estate from Newark and Licking County, Ohio
Monday, November 18, 2013
I have been going to the track for so long that all the employees know me, and now with winter here it's dark before the last race. as I walk to the parking lot the valet recognizes my slouching gait and before I reach him my car is waiting for me, lights on, engine warm. the other patrons (still waiting) ask, "who the hell is that guy?"
I slip the valet a tip, the size depending upon the luck of the day (and my luck has been amazingly good lately) and I then am in the machine and out on the street as the horses break from the gate.
I drive east down Century Blvd. turning on the radio to get the result of that last race.
at first the announcer is concerned only with bad weather and poor freeway conditions. we are old friends: I have listened to his voice for decades but, of course, the time will finally come when neither one of us will need to clip our toenails or heed the complaints of our women any longer.
meanwhile, there is a certain rhythm to the essentials that now need attending to. I light my cigarette check the dashboard adjust the seat and weave between a Volks and a Fiat. as flecks of rain spatter the windshield I decide not to die just yet: this good life just smells too sweet.