My life as a toon

I should have read between the lines last December when I volunteered to help take down the Haunted House in the parking lot of the amusement park where we lease space to work our Motorcycle Safety classes. I described the hours of prying nails out of the asphalt, gathering the corpses and cobwebs for storage, and posing with the tortured waif in the laboratory.

But it wasn't until I heard myself describe to the new instructor where to meet me last weekend, when I told him to go through the gate behind the Statue of Liberty and make a left at the gargoyls. It all makes perfect sense to me, it's a wonder I don't think the antics of novice motorcyclists seems out of the ordinary.

Spit and Polish

I carried my small goldfish bowl through the dealership on the way to clean their water. The other employees now know this as taking my fish for a walk. On the way back through the parts department, the fish and I stopped for a visit, then as we turned and headed back toward the classroom, me holding the bowl out in front as I walked, the two of them, Spit and Polish, swam to the front of the bowl, pressed their noses against the glass and wagged their tails, as if they were dogs on a car ride! I'm still smiling, hours later.