Buttnekkiddoodles

Shot over to my local Rx to get the booster and hopefully final jab of my triad of COVID-19 vaccinations. She who wielded the needle was an ace with the hypo. Bela Lugosi himself couldn’t have delivered a more subtle nip.
While I waited out any allergic keel over, I went about finishing a sketch I had begun while awaiting my turn for the needle.
In came a gent in heavy garments suitable for a day 35 degrees cooler. As he bent to settle into the chair next to me he let rip a sonic boom from his intestinal bellows. Make yer self comfortable my brother. Fortunately, those heavy layers created a baffled terrarium that only allowed the aural signature of flatulence to escape. Unmasked he was quickly reminded to do so by the pharmacy staff. Up he got and to the window he went. “Miss?! Excuse me. Miss?”
“Please have a seat. We’ll be right with you.”
He returned and resettled only to get up within a few breaths to again glide to the counter and ask for attention.
This time a staff member engaged him and tried to get some pertinent info from him, in particular where he was currently residing. Info uncertain, he reseats himself. Rose to give a different address.
He is told his medication isn’t prepared, please be seated and we’ll call you when it is.
“How long will that be?” Told, he said he would wait outside and be back shortly.
Health professionals have to deal with a very wide range of needs and conditions. I want a system that can. And I neither want nor support a system incapable of meeting those in need irrespective of their circumstances or ability to pay. This, to me, is a hallmark of a ‘healthy’ society.
The resources necessary to develop and maintain a strong, highly capable system of research and healthcare should be a top priority of any society or country that proclaims itself to be advanced, caring, a champion of freedom, liberty, defenders of its citizens. I want the country of my birth, citizenship, that I live in, to provide care for a human being in medical or psychological need and to get that care regardless of their ability to pay for it. It’s called infrastructure. It creates cohesion. It is an important measure of our capability and greatness. I will be posting this on several FB sites. Some may remove it because it violates their notion of political statement. So be it. I will mention those sites that do, and why I feel that my statements constitute reportage in which image and text give fuller understanding of the dynamics observed and clarification of that perspective.

Drawn with a Faber-Castell Black Leather Essentio fountain pen and Pitt Artist Pens on a Stillman & Birn Delta sketchbook.

View of the Cuyahoga River from the east bank very near the river’s mouth into Lake Erie and just down from Collision Bend, a 90 degree turn that has been a major challenge to barge traffic. Once a warehouse/industrial neighbor of Cleveland ‘s downtown, the area know as The Flats has been transitioning over the last forty years to an residential/dining/entertainment area. The city’s potential to make this part of a vibrant city core that combines business, residential, sports complexes, dinning, transportation hub, shopping, grocery is a work in progress. As a fan of Rust Belt cities, I’m pulling for this tenacious population to hang in there. After all, the Rust Belt Of North America is situated among one of the planets largest and most vital resources…….fresh water.

As Cleveland emerged as a major manufacturing center, the river became heavily affected by industrial pollution, so much so that it “caught fire” at least 13 times, most famously on June 22, 1969, helping to spur the American environmental movement.[10][11] Since then, the river has been extensively cleaned up through the efforts of Cleveland’s city government and the Ohio Environmental Protection Agency (OEPA).[12] In 2019, the American Rivers conservation association named the Cuyahoga “River of the Year” in honor of “50 years of environmental resurgence.”
Drawn during lunch at the Brewery pub Collision Bend with Pitt Artist Pens on watercolor paper.

 
Noggins. In the drawing above, the two heads were drawn while on the #22 bus using Ochre and Dark Sepia Pitt Artist Pens. Later I added the green blue tints and black. The bottom two were drawn as is in a cafe.

       
With the exception of the last sketch of my brother Bob, this collection was drawn this August in the Chicago/Evanston area. Bob, was drawn watching the t.v. some 27 years ago in Austin, Texas.

Fountain pen and Pitt Artist Pens, most on a Rhodia unlined notebook. Bob was drawn on a repurposed diary from someone had kept notes in from the Second World War.

 
The booth of Henry’s Farm, Evanston Farmers Market. Fountain pen and Pitt Artist Pens on a Rhodia unlined notebook.

The old soldier, ears thoroughly bitten, shy a few teeth, still keeps vigil over his domain.

Given the less than appealing name Stinky due to his feisty nature when we got him. What would you expect. The critter was feral. I’ve never come up with a substitute name and refuse to use that one. I haven’t been swatted in over two years and he usually comes over to rub against my leg and let me scratch behind his ears. I make use of Old Man, Dude, Buddy. The nameless wrangler that helped send the rats packing, patrols the complex, and has mellowed considerably. Well, the squirrels would argue with that last part. I could call him Sheriff. Or Sharif, after Omar.

Fountain Pen and Pitt Artist Pens on a Rhodia unlined notebook.