This and that...
Business Thai: The Lowe's store in Potsdam may be the exception to the “if it looks like a duck and acts like a duck, you've got a duck” rule. The building on Route 56 in the town clearly looks like a Lowe's store - and month after month some official quacks that it will open in the next month or so - yet there it sits closed and without a lot of activity. I sure hope the “coming soon” Thai Cuisine restaurant at 29 Maple St. isn't adopting the Lowe's business model. There is a sign that says it's coming ... the windows are papered over like you always see before a new business opens ... but there doesn't seem to be a lot of activity going on. And in weeks of trying, our Potsdam reporter has been unable to find the owner to talk about plans for the business. Could the curse of 29 Maple St. be striking before this latest restaurant even opens? http://www.watertowndailytimes.com/article/20090821/BLOGS06/908219991/ Or is the owner just trying to get his duck sauce in a row before opening just to ensure it doesn't fail? Stay tuned.
The Tao of weather: When it is 60 degrees in May, I am dancing and singing as I reach for my shorts and Hawaiian shirt. When it is 60 degrees in September, I am crabbing and moaning as I reach for my blue jeans and hoodie sweatshirt. I can't find the science to explain the phenomenon, but 60 degrees in the spring always feels warmer than 60 degrees in the fall.
Dogging it: A friend recently told me that I had officially become one of Potsdam's “characters” because I can be seen every day walking the village streets with three of my dogs: one each at the end of leashes held in my hands and the third tethered to my waist. Most often the young golden retriever is pulling me, the old fat black dog is lagging, and the schnauzer bred for rat hunting is tugging at my midsection as she scouts for squirrels. Not sure who were the other characters my friend lumped me in with, but I am hoping she did not put me on the same list as the guy who used to walk the streets with a paddleball racket swatting at balls only he could see.
Dogging it, part two: Maybe my friend didn't really mean to call me a character. Maybe she meant that I have become one of Potsdam's familiar sights – sort of like the field of toilets at Market and Pleasant streets. That would make more sense to me, because it is true that I get lots of beeps and waves from people driving by when I am walking the girls. Most of the time I don't have a clue who these random folks are .... but they seem to know me. And I can't tell you how many people don't know me when I don't have the girls in tow. I'd have a good chunk of money if I had a buck for every time someone sitting next to me in a bar said: “Oh, you are THAT guy ... I didn't recognize you without your dogs.”
Guilt by association: The other day I let the girls off their leashes in the park and we came upon a woman with her dog. As I was doing my usual “the black dog growls but she has no plan B” routine for the woman, I recognized that we had met the dog mine was giving the alpha treatment to several times before. “Oh, is that Macy?” I asked the woman. When she said it was, I asked if she was dog-sitting and got a puzzled look and no response. So I asked again. This time she said, “Um, no ... Macy is my dog.” So I blundered forward: “Macy is your dog? I thought she belonged to this couple I always see her with down here.” The woman responded: “Um, I am half of that couple.” Turns out I recognized the dog but not the owner without her boyfriend to complete my mental picture. Funny how the brain works ... or in this case, didn't.
Two kinds of people: There are the kind who see me coming to a corner while walking the girls and they speed up to get there first so they don't have to stop for us. They then roll through the stop sign and hurry on their way. Then there are the kind who see me coming and stop 10 yards from the stop sign and wave us through. I like this kind of person.
Crappy way to act: I am so puzzled when I see adults walking their dogs and letting them dump in someone else's yard without picking it up. When Fido dumps in his own yard, I would assume these people don't pick it up and throw it onto their neighbor's grass. I would also assume they would think that's a ludicrously rude thing to do. But that is pretty much what they are doing when they strap Fido on a leash and walk him down to a neighboring house to let him do his duty. As the owner of the poopingest dogs in North America, I am here to tell you that there is nothing hard (or disgusting) about carrying plastic bags and picking up after your animals on a walk. And if you plan it right, you can take a route that has a garbage can within a block or two of ground zero so that you can get rid of your load without having to tote it too far. Offenders – and you know who you are – give all dog owners a bad name when they don't do their duty and pick up their dog's duty. How about you all clean up your act?
All economics is local: My friend in Michigan spent decades working in the auto industry before losing his job to the poor economy several months ago. Last night he sounded about nine beers into a 12-pack when he called to tell me he got a job. In Michigan. In the auto industry. I once heard the economy explained this way: A recession is when your neighbor loses his job. A depression is when you lose yours. The depression just ended for my friend and his family. Maybe this is the start of something good on a bigger scale. Everybody cross their fingers.
