I’ve been pretty busy taking care of things around the house. I’ve actually gotten quite a few more things off my list this past week and I’m happy about that. I have not gotten much cooking done since I’ve been focusing more on the things outside that need fixed. I have plenty to eat without cooking much.

With the decent rain we had earlier in the week the basement only had one small leak. What a pleasant surprise. I can manage that pretty well, but I still have more to do on the outside to divert water away from the house. I’m hoping that may take care of most of the basement water leak issues.

So, with getting things done around here at a good pace I took off today as a “Meday”. Chelsea and I made a trip to Kansas City and I showed her around places of my past and things I remember.

It was kinda weird going to the house of my earlier childhood and the houses of my grandparents on both sides. Brought back many memories.

As we were just up the road we passed a spot that brought back a memory. My dad and I were heading to mow grass in Kansas City. We had a riding mower and a push mower in the ol’ 1972 Chevrolet C-10 pickup.

The riding mower was rolling around so my Dad wanted me to go back and block the wheel. As he was pulling to a stop, I jumped out of the truck while it was still moving. There’s a very good reason you should wait for a complete stop.

I got ran over by the truck.

It ran over my left foot and right thigh. My Dad slammed on the brakes and jumped out as I was getting up off the pavement and dusting myself off. I remember hitting the ground and the truck bouncing over me. It scared the hell out of him thinking he had run over me. Yeah it was scary and it did hurt a little but the truck was so light in the backend it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. I never jumped out of a moving vehicle again!

One memory I revisited a few weeks back and again today was at my grandparent’s house on my Dad’s side of the family. When I was younger, my cousin and I had a camp out in the bed of my parents’ pickup. It was parked in a big parking area behind their house.

The next morning we woke up and went in the house. Apparently, in the middle of the night, the drunken neighbor across the street decide to go for a stumble amongst the cars in his neighbors’ driveway. He walked right next to the truck we were sleeping in the back of.

Oh…he had a butcher knife in his hand.

We didn’t hear a thing, but I guess my parents heard some racket and went outside to find this drunken slob, in his underwear, wandering around carrying that big knife as he walked past us sleeping in the bed of the truck. They confiscated the knife and sent him home. All the while we never heard a thing.

The family told us all about it the next morning and showed us the knife. He never got the knife back and I actually think I may have found it in the basement here last week.

There were many other memories that came to mind as we drove around; some good and bad. And the changes over the years made some places unrecognizable.

After we left the family homes we headed toward Kansas City, MO. My stomach was a little pissed off today or we would probably have not driven right past Rosedale BBQ. But I didn’t want to push it and really had very little appetite anyhoo.

We made our way up the hill off Southwest Boulevard to Browne’s Irish Marketplace, the Irish store I have previously written about in these pages. They just celebrated 135 years in business earlier this month. I got a few things there that I am really looking forward to eating. Chelsea had not been there before and liked it too.

After that it was a stop in the historic Westport area of Kansas City. The area is full of bars, food, and shopping. I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show the first 12 times at a little movie house there in the early 80s. I spent more than one night listening to bands (and even worked with a few) and partying hard stumbling around to the various bars in Westport. It was a great place to party until the advent of crime and yuppies infiltrated the place.

Another place in the area is the Westport Flea Market, home of one of the best burgers in the city and a very popular spot.

I have not been to “The Flea” in decades but the last time I was there another business shared the building. It was called “Bob’s Bazaar Bizarre”. Turned out that the shop owner, Bob Berdella, lived a few blocks away and he was a sick bastard who did gruesome, unspeakable things to six victims. You can look it up if you’re that curious…

It was a good day to get out. A bit cool and breezy, but at least it was somewhat sunny. I needed a change of scenery for sure.

Some of those timeless places were still there but many are gone in the decades I have been away and replaced by strip malls and new construction. It’s still a real shame to tear those old buildings down. All the history and architecture disappears unfortunately.

It was interesting to see some of those places again and see the changes. To me they are just changes; nothing to really think about. I don’t dwell upon the past much because we need to move forward.

Times change and that’s okay. It’s a good thing mostly.