You could have an Official bench with your name on it.

Like the one featured above.

Here in Mill Valley the Department Of Public Works is the office in charge of Official Memorial Benches. I call them Memorial Benches because you need to be dead to obtain a bench with your name on it. I’m not positive of that. I notice some of the benches say IN MEMORY OF followed by your name. I’m assuming that means the person memorialized is dead. I could be wrong. Could be this particular person skipped town. He was beloved by all and one day he just kind of vanished. Like Jim Thompson.

I’ll need to contact the Department Of Public Works here in Mill Valley for verification. Plus obtain a list of Memorial Bench rules, including a resume of the person being memorialized, Bench styles, location options, costs, etc… I’m thinking there will be a shit load of rules. It’s always like that when you’re dealing with a bureaucracy. They look you over. Make sure you’re squeaky clean. I mean, I can understand not giving a memorial bench to a child molester. But what about the rest of us?

Jesus Fucking Christ! They won’t leave you alone.

Oh, to hell with it. I don’t need an Official Bench. I can go to Loews, buy a cheap ass bench, buy a plaque with Everybody Loved The Gloomer printed on it all fancy like, and stick it SOMEWHERE. I don’t know. I’m thinking the back wall of the Santa Cruz Beach And Boardwalk Casino. Right there where I used to toss quarters with the other punks.

It’s been a long ass day

Getting towards sundown. I just got done triple tarping my bedroom roof. I think I caught the leak above my head. We’ll see.

I’m trying to reach the Higher Power with my no leak prayer.

Maybe I should not make a big deal out of this. Why bug the POWER with topside leaks? It could be a lot worse. I need to count my blessings. I mean, the Higher Power could just as easily give me a leak from the other end….

Rain’s starting nice and easy

We’re getting drizzle.

Soon it’ll be raining.

Okay, so we’ll see how this triple tarp deal works.

Shit. I’m out of crackers.

I gotta give him something. The fucker depends on me. Look at him. Standing out there in the drizzle. I guess it’s no big deal for him. He lives out of doors. Rain or shine he’s out there. All of them are out there. It’s like there’s no such thing as homeless in the Seagull world. Maybe we should imitate Seagulls by living out doors. Wait a minute. We did that already. We were once Nomadic Tribes. Teepees and shit. Then we got civilized and looked down on those who preferred to remain as Nomads. We thought we were better than the Nomads. I think we should go back to being Nomads. It would certainly solve the homeless problem in this country.

I guess I could feed him tortilla chips.

Earlier Today

It’s the day after the day after the day after Christmas. It’s around ten a.m. I’m leaving the gym. I got in there early and tightened up a little with the weights and the cross trainer…making progress or maintaining the status quo or else losing a little ground as apposed to a lot of ground…anyway you want to look at it, depending on your prevailing mood. MY current prevailing mood is Gloomy. But you know what?

I have not lost my curiosity.

I’m leaving the gym here at the Mill Valley Community Center which is more than just a gym it’s a community center with a gym and pool attached. That means you got city promoted programs and classes and shit like that for old people and kids. Plus the city rents out space for private events. It’s a good scam all the way around for the city. I joined the gym because it’s cheap for seniors and I like cheap. Here’s the main building.

Anyway, when I tell you I have not lost my curiosity, what I mean is my curiosity comes and goes. On this particular morning I’m looking around. I’m noticing the same old shit but suddenly my truant CURIOSITY is present. I’m noticing these benches. There’s a lot of them. Why’s that? It’s not like the bus stops here. And the old farts that come here, they all have cars. I’m counting maybe twenty or more of these benches. And I’m noticing, they all have plaques.

Now I want to know what gives

So I go in and ask the lady at the big counter. She’s new. She needs to call another lady. Then another lady. These lady’s are looking at me like I got an agenda. Why do I want to know about the fucking benches? Finally a lady in the know tells me THE DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC WORKS is in charge of the benches. That’s the PARKS department. And if I was interested in a bench I need to call them. Am I interested in a bench? No. I’m just curious. She says there’s no more room here at the Community Center for another Bench. All of our bench space is taken. But that doesn’t necessarily mean the entire city is out of bench space. Say I did want a bench? I could have a bench and stick it some place else. “They Decide Where The Bench Goes,” the lady says.

That’s good to know, I tell her.

Like I’m gonna let the City of Mill Valley tell me where I can stick my fucking bench.

One other thing I notice about the benches

They all have plaques. They say IN MEMORY OF or IN LOVING MEMORY or just the name of the person. Some have IN LOVING MEMORY plus the name plus the date of birth and date of death….and if it’s a couple you end up with a plaque crowded with script.

I don’t know. I’m thinking dispense with all the writing. Why bother? Nobody’s gonna remember your name ten minutes after you read it. Not unless you make a point of sitting on it every damned day. Or you’re a bum and you sleep on it and bum friends ask where you’re living and you say I’m at the Elmer Fudd Bench.

No. I’m thinking I’d like to have my picture on my bench.

That’s right. A picture of me.

Now the question is, where do I put the picture.

On the seat? Or on the back rest?

The next day

Which would be the day after the day after the day after the day….oh, fuck it. It’s the 29th. And it’s a lucky morning for me. Because so far, my bedroom is not leaking.

The triple tarping worked. A steady rain all night and all morning and no leaks!

So far, so good.

But no time to dispense with my gloom.

A big ass blow is coming!