I hate being a suspicious person but it probably saved me from having my phone stolen. A middle-aged woman in a car hailed me while I was riding my bike home from work on Friday. She pulled onto the shoulder of the entrance ramp to I-80 as I passed it.
“Do you have a phone I can borrow to call my sister? She lives around here and I’m lost.”
She could probably see my phone in the back pocket of my shorts. So to me, here was the perfect setting for a crime. She’s sitting in her car with the engine running, right at the onramp to the interstate. All I have to do is hand my phone over to her and she’s off. I’m still 15 minutes from home before I can report it.
I hesitated and asked if she knew the address, thinking maybe I’d know the street or could look it up for her. “It’s in the country somewhere and I got lost,” was all she said. I said no. I felt kind of bad about it as we went our separate ways but I also remembered that my phone is not really a phone. It’s a good chunk of my life on that little device, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to hand it to some stranger sitting in their own getaway car.
There is a Daylight Donuts shop across the street. I noticed they incongruously left the “gh” out of “doughnuts” but not “daylight”. I wonder why. It would have given them a retro-1960s vibe if they were called Da-Lite Donuts.
It finally stopped raining and warmed up today so I was on my bike this morning. I rode to work on Wednesday, but the terrible weather on the intervening days kept me off for the rest of the week. I took a swing around the south side of town. Some notes:
That derelict barn along the trail deteriorates a little more every year. I believe the architectural style is Johnson County Dilapidated.
Terrible weather is great for dandelions. The soccer fields at Kickers Park were yellow with them.
The sculpture at the Kickers Park reminds me of something you might see at an airport. It’s a reminder that kids of all colors– purple, blue, or orange– can set aside their difference and a joy a friendly game of soccer.
I have located Cow Number 457.
A couple of men were out grooming the private baseball field on a cattle farm on Sycamore Street. It’s a regular field of dreams.
Bird notes: There were lots of coots and (I think) scaup in a pond. I also saw a meadowark, a couple of egrets way out in some corn stubble, and some kind of sandpiper (solitary?) in a puddle.
Asparagus risotto with bacon 1, chicken fajita pizza 0.
So I’m still waiting for SimCity to released for Mac, which will happen on June 11. For amusement in the meantime I’ll just have to hack into NORAD’s computers for a little Global Thermonuclear War.
What would you do if you bit into a Cadbury Creme Egg and found a Peep inside?
Iowa City has an interesting mix of well-dressed churchgoers and well-dressed-but-rumpled walk-of-shamers milling around town this Easter Sunday morning.
Instagram is our new toy.
Yesterday the devil came here. Right here. And it smells of sulfur still today.
Hugo Chavez, speaking after George W. Bush at the United Nations in 2006
All the “animosity” between Hugo Chavez’s Venezuela and the United States didn’t stop them from selling oil to us, or us from buying it.