Sunday observations:

-Strange sight this morning as a young couple were at a vacant gas station vacuuming out their car with industrial strength. This isn't really remarkable, but it was made odd by the female of the couple just sitting in a folding "camp" chair watching her beau crawl throughout the car with the vacuum hose. Again, this isn't that remarkable, but it was 10am on a Sunday and she was just sitting there, lounging like it was many hours later in the day and they were on a porch enjoying a beverage. It was just one of those momentary visages that sounds far less interesting in hindsight, but was interesting at the moment. Life is probably full of those.

-Another of these instances occurred just a few block around the corner from the vacuuming couple in Sylvan Park. It didn't involve people, though. Rather, it was a piece of fabric. A flag to be exact. It was the flag of Ethan Allen's Green Mountain Boys from Revolutionary War days. Flying on a front porch. In Nashville. In 2009. What leads someone to proudly flying this flay these days? Nothing wrong with it necessarily, just strange. On a Sunday morning, strange things are afoot.



-Breakfast is still good, even on the weekends. Even when Star Bagel is packed. Even when those strange ladies behind running the register are being their own special kind of strange.

-There is nothing more thug than rolling up to a coin-operated carwash on a Sunday morning with your subwoofers vibrating the entire building and drowning out the sound of high-pressure water and even the "minute left" beeper. That's quite an accomplishment. If the racket hadn't been so annoying, it might have actually been amusing since they had to turn it up louder than the vacuum, but then couldn't hear each other when giving an assessment of how crunk they were at the coin-op vacuum. So hard.