sqwabb

Sitting on the grass, a door-or-two East of Columbia Street, on the South side of 8th Avenue, across from Jonathon Rogers Park, just a door West of Milano Coffee, which has a "pour-over" coffee which will remind your taste buds why they liked the stuff in the first place.

Sirens! Emergency first responders! Ambulance, fire truck -- where's the emergency? The ambulance rounds the block. Swings by. Slows to a crawl. The paramedic in the passenger seat takes a hard look at me -- should I feign some head trauma just to make him feel better? He asks if I called "it" in. "No," I say, remembering to shake my head side-to-side, rather than up-and-down. When I next notice the ambulance, it's parked on the corner, as you can see (though it wasn't jittering like that). One paramedic is in the driver's side, the other -- I couldn't see. I hope, as always, that it wasn't serious.

Otherwise, such a pleasant day and place to spend some of it. Just so you know, Jonathon Rogers Park is near both Guardian Storage, where I have a locker, and the Go Green bottle depot where most of the bottles and cans I collect end up. Area residents (affectionately?) refer to it as "the Homeless Guy Park."