Monday, June 20, 2011

Rainy Days and Mondays

Absolutely unrelated to today's blog is this beautiful bike I
saw parked in front of Innkeeper's last Friday. Very smartly
outfitted and fashionable for a lovely lady commuter.
A day like today would have done in poor Karen Carpenter, God rest her soul. It is Monday. It is raining. It is grey and gloomy. It is dank, dark, damp and just damned crappy out there. Then again, Karen wasn't a runner. Had she been, she might have overcome at least some of the disappointment of a rainy Monday. I know a run in the rain helped me this morning.

And that's without much in the way of street treasures. I did jog my memory a bit, though. Heading south on Academy from Main Street I passed my childhood church, Bethany Baptist, which is a completely different building today from the one I attended briefly. My parents aren't particularly religious so I'm not sure why they sent me. Perhaps they thought the moral teachings of a Christian church would do me some good. Or maybe it just ensured an hour or two of mommy-daddy time without the kids around.

Whatever the reason, I didn't gain much of a foundation there. No fault of the kindly Sunday school teachers and the pastor, of course. I remember one lesson was intended to teach us the books of the New Testament. We were supposed to memorize them in order so as to be able to recite the lot. As an example the teacher got us started: "Matthew, Mark, Luke John..." she said. I must have stopped listening to her instruction at that point. Hmmm, I thought, sounds easy enough. There's even a little sing-song to it. "Matthew, Mark, Luke, John," I repeated to myself a few times. OK, got it.

The following week when it came time to show our stuff, my hand shot up to exhibit my newfound biblical knowledge. "Matthew, Mark, Luke, John," I declared and stopped, satisfied that I had mastered the lesson and the applause would follow shortly. "And..." she prodded. Oops. Shoulders sagged. Puppy dog eyes made clear my embarrassed innocence. I guess there's more to the New Testament than the four Gospels. At least we got a nice treat at the end of the bus ride each Sunday.

Also unrelated, except to the photo
above, is this guy unlocking his Trek
Soho S, another bike I happen to like.

A couple blocks farther south I passed the home of my one-time stepgrandparents. The Upsons were a homey, folksy couple. He was a retired railroader, she was a housewife as far as I recall. He was a woodworker with a knack for creating amazing chains and ball-in-a-box carvings and other neat things. She collected dolls and a variety of knickknacks that filled the house in curio cabinets, on the stairs, on shelves and in every corner. I recall lots of crosses and pictures of Jesus, too.

From there I continued down to Third Street and over the Fourth Street bridge, which spans the Galesburg BNSF rail yards. (The headline for that story link, which came up second in my Google search for BNSF railyards Galesburg, was among my entries in the Illinois AP Editors Contest that one first place.) Oddly it's always been known as the Fourth Street bridge, but was renamed for a longtime alderman years ago as the W.C. Jackson Bridge. The oddity is that it could as accurately be called the Third Street bridge, as it begins on Third Street on the western side and comes out on Fourth Street on the eastern side.

On the eastern side I stuck to Seminary Street, foregoing my intended detour to the Carl Sandburg Birthplace State Historic Site in favor of a speedier return home. And that was pretty much it for the history tour.

Today's Stats
Temp: 67 degrees F
Distance: 3 miles
Treasure: 23 cans; 1 rubber band.

iPod Playlist (shuffle)
Bombs Away - The Police
Freedom Rider - Traffic
Radar Love - Golden Earring
Expecting - The Call
Lucky (Rap) - Joni Mitchell
Hold On - Lou Reed
The Overdraft - Warren Zevon
In France They Kiss On The Main Street - Joni Mitchell
That's The Way Love Is - The Commitments

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