Mondays With Mr. K (No. V)

Hello Gentle Reader

Well we are now up to 100 blog posts. That for me, is a congratulations for sure – but it would never happen if I did not hope for some readers! So the congratulations are of course shared with many thank-you’s! I would also like to welcome the third follower, which is a great pleasure to have. So a welcome, and a "Hi how are you," is in order for sure. I know this "Monday With Mr. K," is a bit early but I also know quite frankly that if I do not do this today/tonight I will certainly forget for sure. That is of course not my intention, so "Mondays With Mr. K," number five is a bit early I do admit that, but its better early then never I suppose.

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Mr. K was an avid walker. Of course weather was something that had to permit such occasions of going on a glorious walk. Of course Mr. K could be seen taking a wintery evening stroll, in the winter; or a early spring walk in the spring; sometimes a dusk walk in autumn, remarking on the flowers. But the most anyone ever saw Mr. K walk the most would be in summer, in the late afternoon. His enjoyment of flowers, and taking in their radiance, rather than the monochromic feel of winter -- though if caught asked about the dreary state of winter on a walk; he would remark: "There is something about winter at night, that gives it the feel, that even though life has been caught, and certainly the world has a feeling of mourning in it, one cannot help but feel a resistance, and revolution is being formed within the depths of the snow. There still is the call and cackle of life, hissing its revolutionary march against the tyranny of winters oppressive dictatorship."

However one of the most interesting summer trips of Mr. K was one day his cane smacking the pavement he enjoyed the time of year. The buzzing sounds of insects could be heard. However Mr. K's enjoyment of the earths cycles, of birth, life, old age, and death were soon all wrapped up in the four seasons, his eye was caught by some children playing a game with a ball they kicked around. Interested not only in the game but also in watching the delights of youth being portrayed so openly, in the public. Perhaps Mr. K was hoping to reminisce on the matters of his own youth. Reaching his destination, however his sudden appearance of observation started one of the players of the game, and in a wrong stop kicked the ball to the side -- only hitin a nearby window of a resident’s home. The youth were already circle ready to run when Mr. K intervened. "It is best, to always be honest with people. I find it shows maturity and of course, its part of growing up." The youth were of course a bit hesitant at the old man who stood before him, but his relaxed nature, and position as a way of facilitating such a meeting between the resident and the youth put their minds at rest. However when the youth and Mr. K both saw the man storm to the window and his size and way of dress not to mention the way of his speech, Mr. K's attitude quickly changed. For the man who appeared in the window was dressed like a slob, arms, and a gut hude, and a face flushed not only with alcohol, but with a uncontrollable rage.

"Sometimes it is best also to run. Especially if your legs can carry you fast." He gave a slight wink and all the youth ran. When the man stumbled out of the window, he saw the old Mr. K waving his cane in the opposite direction that where the youth had run, shouting out "come back here!" The man only took one look at Mr. K shrugged his shoulders, and stumbled in a attempt to run down the opposite way after the kids.

It is said by some of the youth that when they all had gone back to one of their places, a new ball was waiting for them. Yes Mr. K needed no reminders of youth, and its problems, but certainly he did enjoy helping out the youth, even if it was deceiving another person. But of course Mr. K never helped people with ears full of wax, or bellies full of alcohol.