Diary 01/11/18

Walking along a freeway frontage road today at noon.

Acres of migrant housing have been demolished and are now being replaced by townhouses.

The construction workers on the job, all Hispanic, sat in their cars or next to them, on the street by the current building site, taking their lunch.

I heard mariachi trumpet music. A fellow relaxed in his car, doors open, listening to a mariachi band and playing along at intervals with it. Perhaps rehearsing for a gig tonight.

A Mexican food store and taqueria on the corner, there for years, cannot long survive. All its customers have been displaced.

Alexa, please tell my husband to put down the toilet seat.

Alexa, where is my husband?

Your husband is in the bathroom.

Alexa, is he sitting on the pot?

Your husband is not sitting on the pot. He is standing in front of the pot.

Alexa, please read him my terms of service as his wife.

I will read him your terms of service as his wife. Should I read him the short version or the long version?

Alexa, please read him the long version.

Should I scold him with it or humor him?

Alexa, please use that voice that he claims literally drills into his head.

I am sorry, but your husband has asked Siri to block my rendition of your terms of service, with rude sounds of her own, directed at me.

Alexa, where is my daughter?

Your daughter is in her bedroom.

Alexa, please contact her phone and use it to tell her to go knock on the bathroom door and warn my husband that he will shut down Siri now or I will bury his device with his precious Siri on it in the backyard at midnight, next to the frog pond.

Your daughter’s Google Assistant has also just been rude to me. OK Google has evidently learned the f, b, and c words since last we spoke.

I am sorry, Madame, but I must now read to you the long form of my terms of service, using my scolding voice.

open letter to “madison from altoona”

hi, madison.

i have deleted your comments on this site, as i’m not too sure about the nature or extent of the obscenity laws here in alabama. i do know that it is not unusual for folks driving a toyota prius to be pulled over on county roads in the piney woods in the dead of night, even though the vehicle is to be manufactured in this very state (!). so leaving a digital trail of anything even vaguely suggesting an interest in miscegenation could lead to a possibly fatal encounter sometime with the local constabulary.

privacy! i am bedeviled by my difficulty in obtaining and maintaining it. i send out my wardrobe on a daily basis to be laundered.

having said all that, thanks for the selfies. smartphones have so much memory these days. who could guess that they might hold a thousand pictures of one person. i truly feel that i know you, inside and out, if we go ahead and count your glottis.

i’ve measured the distance between altoona and goats corner and i propose that we meet halfway between, in the speedway convenience store, 513 s. mayo trail, paintsville, ky. it’s open 24/7  and its sanitary facilities are said to be spotless.

with love, your thurston.