I don't throw things out my car window.
By things I mean trash. I see all kinds of stuff on the road and in the grass beside the road. Cups for sodas and slurpees, wrappers from hamburgers and sandwiches, bottles, plus bags from fast food restaurants. I always wonder who the people that do that think is going to pick that stuff up.
I don't think it's an age thing because I've always thought that way. Bring trash home and put it in your trash can. I've been doing it for so long, I can't remember where I learned it.
It just always seemed to be the right thing to do.
On the other hand I have a bit of a lead foot. I've been lucky, knock on wood, that I haven't gotten a bunch of speeding tickets.
True story.
When I was a disc jockey long ago, in Chicago, I got pulled over on the freeway for just that, speeding. I was on my way to a disco, remember them? I had my girlfriends' car and when I opened the glove box to get the registration, out came stockings and a bra.
Oops.
But that was the least of my worries. My radio station, WLUP-The Loop, was a big deal in that town and I showed the officer my station ID thinking it might help me out a bit. He promptly swatted it away and said, "I don't listen to that station."
I told him I was new in town, hoping the old 'I don't know my way around yet' thing would work for me. Didn't register. He then proceeded to say this, "You'll find that this city is different. You can either deal with them downtown or deal with me." I had my wallet out at the time and said, "How much should I give you?" "Anything you want."
I gave him 40 dollars.
He said, "Thank you very much and watch your speed, sir." And then got back into his car and drove away. My hands were shaking as I thought about what had just happened. I put my car in Drive, got back on the highway and kept on keeping on to the club.
Watching my speed.
Like I said, true story.
Here's another story.
Manhattan is all about apartment living.
You knew the doormen, the cleaning guys, the fix your stuff guys, and each one is more than happy to get a tip. You could go broke just coming in and going up to your place. Have I mentioned New York is expensive? It is. And don't even get me going on the price of groceries.
Apartment living.
One of the things you get used to right quick is that there are people living below you, there are people living above you. Here's something you might not know...when living in an apartment you learn to walk on your tip toes so as not to disturb the people below.
When I married Denise, she moved to New York from living in a house in the suburbs and walked on the heels of her feet. I know what that sounds like and I imagined eyes following her walking across our apartment. The next sound you heard was a broom handle on their ceiling, our floor.
You should have seen my face.
Denise is very nice and while I was waving my arms and saying no, she was sweetly saying, "What?"
Last, but not least, something I've always wondered about.
When Tom Hanks or Denzel Washington or Emma Stone makes a great movie we're bedazzled. Here's a question. Between movies do they work on their acting, do they go to a special acting class? Or did they learn their craft when they were younger and that was it?
You hear about thespians taking acting classes all the time. But that's mainly young actors trying to break into that world. You never hear about huge stars going back to the well, between films, to tighten things up a bit.
Just asking.
And those are a few random thoughts.
#MarkMcEwen
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