High noon in downtown Cornwall

What does one see while relaxing on a patio in beautiful downtown Cornwall? If you were in a similar location in Mexico City, one of the biggest cities in the world, you might observe many individuals resting quietly sipping tequila with their sombreros tipped to shade them from the sun. Not here in the Seaway City!

I had the occasion recently, to spend some time on the patio of a local restaurant. It was a pleasant, warm August day and the rank and file traversed the street doing their everyday, humdrum activities oblivious to all and sundry.

I observed a well-known crown attorney walking slowly down the street. He was hailed by a tall dark individual from the other side of the street who apparently knew the people’s lawyer. Did the conversation concern a pending case or did the gentlemen merely exchange friendly greetings? The case remains a mystery.

Across the street a chunky gentleman sat on the steps of a doughnut shop. He swatted intermittingly at some yellow wasps, but neither the man nor the wasps were very aggressive. The doughnuts looked good.

Two doors down a slim man was taking a smoking break, but was having trouble opening his soft drink can. Apparently the can’s snap opening had broken off and there was no way to get it open with bare hands. A lady arrived with a can opener and pierced the balky container. Once more man—or in this case, woman—triumphed over machine.

A person with a white cane moved briskly up the street making better progress than two dog owners who had to stop now and again to scoop. The semi-blind man almost became entangled in the maneuver. Close one!

A gentleman emerged from a bakery with a big bag of something. He was narrowly missed by a fast-moving biker. I guess close counts only in horse shoes and dancing.

Look at those vehicles whizzing by. Don’t tell me they were abiding by the speed limit. Watch out, lady, there’s another one coming. Remember the story about the second mouse getting the cheese? You could have been the cheese this time.

More lawyer-looking guys stride by quickly. Must have over-stayed their two-and-a-half-hour lunch break. No wonder the courts are backlogged.

Two sidewalkers are each pulling two-wheeled carts, apparently heading for the grocery store. I can carry all I can afford in one small bag.

A big black dog meanders along the sidewalk, no owners in sight.Thankfully he appears docile and doesn’t want to scare anyone. That’s a plus. Hate it when they use your leg as a chewing post.

As the waitress filled my coffee cup for the third time, we discovered that a wasp had gone for a swim in it. As I scooped the wasp out the waitress offered a fresh cup. I explained that I was not about to perform mouth-to-mouth on the yellow jacket so she agreed to do the funeral rites. I hope there are no more channel swimmers around because four cups of coffee is just too much.

The cell phone sure is a handy thing. Two ladies were passing, each talk into their plaything. Yata ta ya ta yata ta—and the beat goes on.

Passing them and also with a cell phone was a roller blader who seemed to be in a faraway land. He will be if he doesn’t watch those fast-moving delivery trucks.

A probable musician passed by carrying a guitar case. Wish he would stop by and play a tune or so.

Hunger was raising its ugly head so I asked the waitress for an order of toast. No-go as they only serve pizza. Must think we’re in Italy.

Another biker dressed as though he just escaped from the Tour de France whizzed by and wasn’t looking either way. Geez, would you believe he’s on the sidewalk? Three minutes later a police car rolls by. Where are they when we need them?

There goes a jogger in a red jersey looking very fit. He stops a half-block down the street and lights up a cigarette. Bet he’s not so fit inside.

Three quarters of a block away I see a crowd milling around and fire trucks approaching. A passerby said there was a bomb scare. Don’t need any suicide bombers in good old Cornwall.

I reach for my cell phone, but it is not mine ringing. Four other people reach too. Just like the old west when someone yelled, “Draw!”

Adding things up at the end of the day I find one waitress fed up with serving me coffee, one exciting incident when the bomb threat occurred, one close call concerning the bike and the turban guy, and one drowned wasp.

If that is what they call a typical day in the city, I can only quote John Denver’s hit song “Take me home, country roads, take me home.”

Just in Passing: I wrote an article on divorce about three years ago and some people asked me to repeat the following verse:

Divorce

D is for desire to move forward

I is for initiative to succeed

V stands for a victory over heartache

O means give to others without greed

R means to rehabilitate our lifestyles

C is for contribution of new deeds

E stands for an era that has passed us

S gives us salvation of our needs.

McMillward out.