... A Sour Apple Tree

Your source for fast and/or frozen food reviews, Huntington and/or West Virginia commentary, rasslin' (not wrestling) nostalgia, bad parody, dumb satire, rejected slogans, pointless lists, unreliable sports predictions, and funny local pictures.

Location: Huntington, WV, United States

I'm a 37 year-old guy from Huntington, WV.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Scenes from a park.

It being a perfect Fall Sunday yesterday, I took a long walk around Ritter Park and, Sweet Jesus, I wish that I had brought along my camera. There was so much to see:

A woman was walking her dog. No biggie, right? Well, when she suspected that it was time for her dog to take a dump, she unleashed poochie, walked about 20 yards ahead, and pretended like she didn't know what was goin' on. Mind you, this was next to one of those dispensers for dog shit bags and she very easily could have picked up the crap and thrown it away. It probably didn't help matters that she was wearing designer clothes and had what was likely an expensive haircut. Just for that display of bourgeois ass-holedness, I'm going to vote for one less Republican next November (sorry, Kim Wolfe). Please, folks, don't let your dog do his business on the circular path. There are people walking and running there who really don't need it on their shoes.

Oh yeah, running. It ain't for me and this was especially apparent yesterday. First of all, they always seem to be in pain. Terrible pain. And they are stringy. Those of us of Anglo-Celtic extraction should generally look like rugby players, even when in shape, and not skeletons with extra-large tendons. Ew. Oh, and they run you over. Just 'cause I'm going slower, I should move? Bite me. From now on, I'm hunkerin' down. I've got ten pounds on most of them and a low center of gravity. I'm gonna win. Oh, and one more thing: why are you in such a damn hurry? Walking is sooo relaxing and it gives you time to reflect and ponder on life, the universe, and everything.

So a'walkin' I a'went. I treked down the creek-side trail to the Peace Arch to pay my respects on Veterans Day. Remember, Veterans Day was originally Armistice Day, in honor of the end to the Great War (they didn't know there'd be a sequel) on November 11, 1918. Furthermore, the Peace Arch was constructed in memory of Cabell County's WWI war dead, so it just made sense to pause and reflect for a moment, especially since I had walked that far, anyway. I sat silently for a bit, then walked to the plaque on the arch and whispered "thank you." Granted, all they really died for was so that Germany could have a feeble democracy that would set the stage for the rise of Fascism, but it wasn't there faults; that buck should be passed to Lloyd George, Clemenceau, and reparations. RIP fellahs, we haven't forgotten.

Speaking the trail, now is the time to see Autumn at its most spectacular along the path. The pre-solstice sun is hitting the fiery leaves at just such and angle to make them glow like a bad Thomas Kincaid painting. While it makes for tacky artwork, it sure works as urban scenery.

During my two mile walk from the park to the arch and back, I probably drank 30 ounces of water so, needless to say, I was anxious to get to the picnic shelter to return some of that water to the custody of the City of Huntington but, when I finally made it to the WC, I made a terrible discovery. They've already closed the bathrooms by the playground for winter. Funny, it was 60 outside yesterday and sure didn't feel like winter. I was tempted to find out who made that decision and go piss in there lawn, but I was able to hold it 'til I got to a friend's house who lives a block from the park.

After doing another lap around the park, I ran up the stairs across the footbridge and cut through the rose garden on my way to Gobbler's Knob. There I received some dirty looks from folks attending a fancy dinner thingy at the club house. There goes my other Republican vote next year (sorry, Manchin's token opposition, it looks like I'll cast my protest vote for the Mountain Party).

Speaking of Gobbler's Knob, wow, that place has gone to shite. Every bit of bronze and copper has been crowbarred by pillheads, the gazebo is rotting, and the pavement is crumbled. That place needs some serious renovation, pronto.

On my way down from the knob, I saw a college-aged couple hanging out around the amphitheatre. They (or at least he) were (was) blatantly smoking a bowl ( a marijuana pipe if you're square). He was trying to play it all smoove, like he was lighting a cigarette or something. What kind of cigarette do you have to light seven times and hold the flame to its side? Ahh, to be young, stupid, and think that the rest of the world is stupid, too. Good times.

Heading down 8th Street Hill, I had a chance to really take in the Pink Bridge and I think I've said this before, but the Pink Bridge really is nice. Sure beats the Shitty Crumbling Grayish Masonry Bridge that was there before.

Well, it was time to go home, so I hit the streets and avenues. Along the way I was pelted with acorns. Irritating, but a small price to pay for so many large and beautiful trees on the South Side. I bet our air would be a helluvah lot dirtier without them.

Damn, I love that park and the South Side. So much beauty, so much character. I can't wait to walk a few miles there next weekend, too.

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Blogger Evil Twin's Wife said...

Ritter Park is truly a beauty. I spent many hours there during my college years obtaining a BA degree.

Monday, November 12, 2007  
Blogger Buzzardbilly said...

LMAO! What a great post. The apology to Manchin's token opposite is priceless.

Monday, November 12, 2007  

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