I rode the rail trail to work today.
Just west of Eastwood Metropark, there's an abandoned building that looks like an old railroad station. I've seen a lot of clues that would indicate there's homeless people living there. Some of these clues include...homeless people for starters!
Today I rode by and saw a makeshift cross that read "Don". It was made out of two old boards.
I figured it was a tribute to a guy named Don. I'm assuming he lived there and the tribute cross was made by a friend or loved one who must have lived with him or known him.
I rode back home today and was looking for the cross so I could take a second look at it.
But, it wasn't there. I assume someone from Metroparks thought it was ugly and removed it. Or, somebody else messed with it somehow.
If this isn't a reminder of unimportant our lives are on Earth, I don't know what is.
Of course, Earth's vast number of calloused and unfeeling people sure help that process along quite a bit.
Don't they?
About Me
- Mick
- In 1968, a baby boy was born and his parents named him Michael. As a cute little zero year old, he had a little round nose and made gurgly noises. But, he also had colic which tired his mama out and his grandmother often rocked him to sleep. One night, while doing this, she nicknamed him "Mickey" and that is why people also call him Mick. He grew up in upstate New York in a place too remote to be called anything. There were a lot of bugs and his Dad yelled at him for using too many paper towels. Little Mickey tried to have fun playing war with his friends and shooting BB guns. He didn't apply himself very much in school and he graduated high school Magne Cum Lousy. One day in 1986 he discovered a lump in his neck which he promptly ignored for more than 6 months. As fate would have it, it was Hodgekin's Disease and after months of dicking around with inept doctors, he promptly underwent aggressive treatment involving brutal tests and chemotherapy. This lasted a year followed by many years of paranoia. This is where he learned to suffer and it payed great dividends. Now he teaches 13th grade at a college in Ohio where he suffers daily.
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