By John Murphy
Awakened this morning and glanced at the alarm clock. The four-inch high numbers said “4:00” – damned early, but I didn’t care. It was time for my morning walk.
I rose and put on the exact same clothes I was wearing Saturday, right down to the socks and underwear. Figured I could squeeze an extra half-day out of them.
Then I padded through the kitchen, grabbed a bottled water and opened the front door. A bright full moon greeted me in all its post-Halloween splendor.
Tooling up Base Line Street in my Corolla, I saw the AM-PM in this distance. My morning cup of coffee awaited.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I said to the security guard,” as I entered the store. Then I fell into line behind a portly woman with three bags of chips spread out on the counter. “Pack of Camels” she said to the clerk. I shook my head in amazement.
Forty-seven cent cup of joe now in hand, I left AM-PM and drove across the vacant Fitness 19 parking lot and onto Boulder Avenue. From there I headed south toward Redlands where on the way I passed not one, not two, but THREE drivers pulled over to the side of the road with their emergency lights flashing. Stranded motorists, no doubt.
I could have stopped and helped, but I didn’t. Needed to get my miles in.
Main Street Dog 