The Lost City Of Dayton

They say there are people there today. It is said there are more than a hundred and fifty thousand people there. There are statistics to back that up.  Of course, the word “people” means people of all ages from newborn to near a hundred in years of age.  While babies are certainly people, they are not people one seeks out for friendship or business. For human interaction, one has to figure off some of that figure given, not just babies but young children and some others such as those permanently in nursing homes.  Of the rest, let’s say those between ages of fifteen to eighty, the experiences are likely at age levels. 

Now what that “age levels” mean is this, at the lowest level (like nineteen), the only Dayton known is the Dayton of here and now today.  It’s buildings, streets, institutions and ways of doing things that are “out there” at the moment, that’s all.  At the other end of the scale, the Dayton learned was the Dayton of about 1950. While some adjustments had to be made in that if necessity demanded it, necessity never demanded changing all thought, and that’s probably for most of the people.  It’s the young that know the world the way it actually is, although those a bit older have some idea and where some of it originated. 

There’s a point to be made here.  As yours truly has hit the three-quarter of a century mark age-wise, it is fairly safe to say, the Dayton known is gone; that city is lost in the mists of time.  The “old ones,” the names in the news, of a few decades ago are dead.  Many of the buildings frequented have had a change of purposes if they are still there at all.  Even the bent of society (once it was a drive to win a war) has gone in different directions.  So, the city is gone, except for a few scattered remnants maybe creating commentaries (if or when there is operational equipment as there is at the moment). 

Catching up can be an impossibility.   


Safe In America

Probably most everyone knows that “America” is not always “safe.”  Danger can be almost anywhere from an assortment of things in man made and the natural world activities.  Most are known as “possibilities,” but exactly how, when and where is not known. An automobile accident is very “possible” – drunk drivers in head on crashes have killed more than one family.  They might be more common at night and so forth, but the specifics are not known. Ditto with criminal actions such as a robbery.  Anyone can unexpectedly walk into a place where a robbery is about to happen – it doesn’t have to be something like a bank. 

Now, frequently in news headlines from around the world, especially recently as there is more news out there than ever before and the current spotlight is more on places where such things seem to be more common, it’s possible to read and hear of things like people more or less grabbed and having their heads chopped off. In spite of a day’s reports of the latest automobile accidents, assorted crime and structural failure possible, one can still pause and think“safe in America.”  It is possible to think one is safe a few other places in the world as well, England being one, but somehow the United States seems especially safe. 

Random gangs may wander the streets of America and carry out some identical atrocities as are reported from far away places, but it’s still “safe in America” for reasons of attitude. Americans don’t accept something like kidnapping followed by decapitation and dumping the body somewhere as behavior to be tolerated. Probably people in lands of such victimization don’t like the idea, either, but see no alternative other than to live with it as possible.  Quite often Americans don’t propose to live with it, although they might take into consideration doing so for the time being because they must.  (Written August 28, 2011.)

Life is precious. 

Collection Of Odd Notes

Once again yours truly has stumbled on something once noted down, put away in a “safe” place, forgotten and then re-discovered.  This happens a lot.  There are different reasons for the “phenomenon,” for example, at hand is a note with absolutely no useful information on it. When something is shoved into the oven, there’s a “cook” or a “bake” time, like an hour. Since the time it was put into the oven is somehow immediately forgotten, the procedure is to note the exact time on a scrap of paper, add the cook time and total it, then go ahead and forget it. The next meal will have a different time.  The note’s useless. 

On the other hand, there’s a note taped to the wall that says Hawthorn Hill is a national Landmark (now). For twenty some years four national Landmarks were listed in the Aviation Trail travel brochure.  Hawthorn Hill was not a part of the scene, although it was Orville Wright’s home.  There is a fifth Landmark in the area; but, it’s Native American, not a part of that.  That’s what was committed to memory. The memory hasn’t been adjusted to remember six Landmarks, one in a different category. Writing it down here may help changing what has been long held in mind, but maybe not. 

What really brought up the matter of doing something about the notes as they do need attention was that while fishing around for something else, what was happened upon was what seemed like an entire commentary not saved in draft for some reason.  It read good.  Well, it would be a fast entry at a time needed, like now.  But, just to be sure there was a look back in the published stuff.  Sure enough it was published June 4. Why it was saved in that way (completed) isn’t known, but now two notes are out with the trash lest they be re-used.  At least that much is done.  (Written August 27, 2011.)

Good intentions have some value.     

Electronic Transfers

Presently there are seven notes taped to the wall (about eye level) because it’s not easy to find stuff in the pile any longer. The stuff taped to the wall is stuff in need of attention (like the stuff in the pile).  One announces, “Your paper check is retiring.”  It came from the social security office.  Like it or not, yours truly has to set up a system that meets the government’s decisions about such things. It will take some doing, as there are different things one can do to accommodate the switch to the upcoming electronic transfer system, and exactly which would be the best way to go with it has not been figured out. 

Some people swear by electronic transfers.  The advantage of a paper check is in the fact that if one’s credit is good and such things, the check can be cashed at places other than a bank and thereby one saves writing a personal check for anything and everything including just having some cash in hand.  While cash is not always the best way to do things, regardless of what anyone says, cash is still the preferred medium of exchange.  Anyone who has ever been in business is well aware of the possibility of having a pile of bounced checks sitting in some kind of a box just hoping a few will be redeemed. 

What the result will be in society with the growing trend to electronic transfers has yet to be seen.  The bottom line is, although a business usually has some cash reserves, for ordinary purposes people want cash or cash equivalent, i.e., money orders if not cashiers checks.  A cab driver, for example, even if he/she has to make frequent trips to deposit fares in a bank, also wants cash in hand to buy lunch or gasoline.  Promissory notes of any sort just don’t do the same thing.  Vending machines take cash.  It may not be a lot at any given time, but it may be a lot over a period of time like a week.  It’s not all good.   

There’s a down side to everything. 

When Someone Retires….

An office friend retired recently.  While there’s still some contact over things that may be of interest, things are different.  The most notable difference, of course, is that there is a “replacement” in the office.  Well, contact and introduction are things to be addressed.  A telephone call to do so made sense.  The telephones in the office apparently were not re-arranged yet as of last week. That’s all right for the moment on the other end of the line; but, yours truly has been needing to run left and right because life’s things have been going every which way not as previously devised.  It’s not okay on “this” end of the line. 

Case in point on that matter:  there homemaker help to keep the place in better order than can be done by the occupant, the occupant being a bit old, unsteady of foot and all that.  It’s a new woman.  In fact, it’s a new agency.  The woman’s not going to be around for a long time as she’s pregnant, so there’s no sense in making issues about various things.  She has come four times (four weeks) not one at the same time as the other three, although two were fairly close to the same time, but neither of those was on the originally agreed upon day.  A (one) change of schedule can be needed by anyone and is anticipated. 

As stated, the service is needed, and it is really expected the woman will be out of the picture at any time. To be calling and negotiating for something reliable is an option; but, that’s not only time consuming, it’ll likely net a substitute at first, which is going to boil down to about the same thing only someone less familiar with the digs and the occupant.  It’s better to chase after the office replacement only there is less time to do an adequate job of that because whatever’s in the plans falls by the wayside at the appearance of the homemaking help, which is most assuredly needed.  Now, that’s what happens when someone leaves. 

Everyone has their own interests.   


A truly good family (or clan) might be one of those things worth gratitude to the powers of existence, God or whatever accidental events are thought to control life and times.  There probably are not really many around.  This was brought to mind to an extent by a gentleman that has volunteer business in the apartment building underfoot.  He’s a helpful man with a wife and three kids and business interests across the river in Cincinnati, but he lives somewhere around the area of the apartment house.  It’s an older, middle class neighborhood of suburban living of ancient vintage (not post World War II). His daughter’s getting married.

Of course, technically everyone has family in the form of a mother and a father; but, many people don’t even know who they are.  Being somewhat into history, yours truly has a special “digging place.”  It’s common for people digging in the same place at the same time to be looking for people who grew up (or at least spent some time in) the local orphanage.  They really aren’t looking for parents in several cases.  They’re looking for others like themselves.  While it might be interesting to know a little about who or what one’s biological parents were, if (and it is “if”) they were adopted, “mom” and “dad” were the adopting parents.

In addition to such people, there are folks who have blood relatives who make it a point to distance themselves from each other, in some cases for very good reason.  There are also families with multitudes of children who barely have an identity of their own.  One family in the elementary school personally attended had ten girls (then a boy).  Although possibly taught to be considerate of each other, one had to wonder how they all fit into the average house they occupied without over-running each other.  Perhaps the saddest group, however, are the kinfolk that busily compete with rather than care about each other. 

People are different in accidental factors. 

If Only…?

To an extent there’s a fine line difference between “what might have been” and “if only….”  A very memorable story once read (author, publication and all else is forgotten, but the premise was never forgotten) was essentially a split tale. The “hero” was simply going along a road, then he came to a place where it divided into two roads going in two different directions. He chose one and proceeded to encounter various things.  At the critical point (climax), the story stopped dead, and readers were abruptly returned to a moment before the place where there were two roads.  The alternate way was followed with very different events. 

The story was a clear example of “what might have been,” as nothing caused a choice between the two roads.  It was simply a case of one had to be picked to continue, and what was along the way could not be foreseen much less judged as good or bad. A famous poem alludes to the same idea, but doesn’t really put it into story form.  Objectively, there is no element of regret in “what might have been” based on the likes of poor judgment, while that is an underlying element of “if only….”  (It does not really help matters much to know that one may have chosen on the basis of what seemed best, although it does help some.) 

There are other aspects to the notion, which have nothing to do with choice as such.  Sometimes the choice is not one of two or more things, but a choice of do or not do.  That’s not the same thing.  There is the aspect of wishful thinking, as well.  That boils down to stuff over which someone may have no control, like the ideas of being born into a wealthy family or having a powerful position (like the boss) when nothing of the sort is the way it is and that’s way it will stay.  Even the element of chance is food for “if only…”What might have been” is something unknown, and guesswork is at best purely speculative. 

Life can take us in unexpected directions.