It was an exceptionally quiet Monday morning. TPP did not see a single other person while walking to the coffee shoppe. It had been raining for hours, and it was still a light drizzle. Things were wet, very green, fresh, and lots of new things had popped into bloom. However the strange quiet was because finals were last week and graduation took place on Saturday, so this college town had emptied and everyone went home for Mother's Day. Aside from all the new things in flower, other observations contributed to eerie nature of the morning. A lot of couches died over the weekend; fourteen were piled on the curb, four at a single address. At least they weren't hauled into the street and burned as was the fashion (very much frowned upon!) a decade or so ago. A dismembered foosball table sat in an avenue's median. It looked sad. A dozen feet away sat a whole pineapple. One wonders if they possibly could have had any connection? One apartment building was cordoned off by yellow caution tape. It seemed very appropriate; TPP has no desire to investigate. The expected confluent litter of beer cups and associated drinking paraphernalia were strangely lacking except for one place where the empties were artfully stacked on a porch railing; it was all too neat. Maybe the pending arrival of parents triggered some primal survival instinct to pick things up. In contrast the coffee shoppe was bustling; a lot of faculty were getting caffeinated for a last bout of grading. Students were totally lacking. It felt really good knowing this was the first Monday after finals when grading did not ominously loom for TPP in over 4 decades!