Grandparents

There are times when I can feel myself aging. Tonight has been one of those nights.

My Poppy, my dad's father, kept a police scanner in their house. He used to be a cop, responding to accidents and the like at all hours, so it made sense; after that, he was a "weed control officer" but (I think) would still respond if need arose. Anyway, they always had the scanner on, and it fascinated me as a child, the dispatchers reading off license plates using the phonetic alphabet and all that.

Tonight, I decided that having one around might not be a bad idea, because then I wouldn't have to wonder why the emergency vehicle with big flashing lights that was neither an ambulance, fire engine, nor any other piece of equipment I'd seen before, had driven by my house.

Further signs of my aging include the fact that I want to discuss with someone the fact that "the dogs in the neighborhood have been acting weird lately." I know this to be true because they've been barking much more than usual. They're also the only thing I know of my neighbors. Since Mike and Marisa moved out of the house next door, we no longer know the names of anyone who lives in this entire section of town.

Maybe it's just me being weird, though.