90 feet.

If you're astute..........  no that ain't it.

If you're a student of the game, then you know....   Baseball Ray...  90 feet is the distance between the bases.

$5.850.  That's the average cost ($130 ea) of 45 pair of sneakers (ie, 90 feet) today.

90 feet.  Forty-five soldiers marching.

Most homes, sure, not all.. but most homes, round trip to the mailbox is around 90 feet:

The Marvelettes sang....  

Please Mister Postman look and see (Postman postman)
Is there a letter oh yeah in your bag for me? (Postman postman)
You know its been so long (Postman postman)
Yes since I heard from this boyfriend of mine (Postman postman)

90 feet is 30 yards.

30 yards is a busy (but productive) damn summer for  a ten year old and his/her Briggs and Stratton.

90 feet = 27.43200 meters.

Many (mebbe 90%?) of 'mericans ask, "the hell is a meter."

Good buddy was a meter reader.  He walked roughly 90 feet from one yard to the next yard, and he could do roughly 90 of 'em by lunchtime.

Few years back, automation happened.  Now, some nerd (like me, who worked 20 years in a cubicle) reads all the meters thanks to a gadget on the meter, thereby eliminating meter readers, just like those that usedta say "Hi, and welcome to Blockbuster"... or......... "Regular or Ethyl sir?"

90% of folks who shop at WallyWorld bitch, moan, complain complain is my name because they gotta use the self checkout (versus standing in a line of 20).

Them there folks above, they drove to Wally in their Teslas, Fords, Chevys, Chryslers, yada, that were assembled in large part by robots.  While them folks was scanning their goodies, they clicked their autostart so it'd be cool/hot, whatever the needed case... 

Or...  many, so tired of it all.. actually made, drank java from their automated coffeemaker.. then, they noticed sumpin on the carpet, clicked "clean once" from their phone - Roomba rolled, got it all. Prepped a pork butt, stuck it in their new 'lectric smoker, opened their IPhone app, set it for 14 hours, low and slow, 225 degrees.  Yeah baby, yum.. shake and bake, and I (automation) helped. "Alexa, play some Motown please" - then.. .then... took em roughly 90 seconds to go to Piggly Wiggly's website, click what they wanted, gave their address... had 'em delivered to their house by 6pm, so... they got to avoid people (clerks, 2 ladies visiting in the paper goods aisle, blocking the whole damn thing [MISOGYNIST! AM NOT!), didnt haveta visit with Shirley that lives down the street, Herb the butcher, Wanda the checkout lady, or Scooter, the bagger, taker outer.)

Then........ speed dialed Door Dash for lunch 'cause the pork butt ain't gonna be ready for a long time. "Grandpa, why do they call it 'dial'?"  Well son, a lotta things we usedta haveta do we ain't gotta any more. Say, did you see where I put my Kindle?

Still upset over the whole WallyWorld automation kinda thing...  Gramps decided to take Sonny to the ballgame. After about 90 seconds online, he clicked his automated start thingy, grabbed Junior...... rolled... GPS'ed to the ballpark.  So much easier than the old book maps ya had to use. That involved old fashion printing companies, distribution of the book maps all about town, clerks to sell em, bankers to keep the vendors with plenty of bills, coins for change, that stuff.

From his MLB app, gramps scanned his parking pass into the QR looking thing at the booth that usedta house Shirley or mebbe Frank, parking lot money takers... went to the gate....scanned their two tickets... and they were set to enjoy watching fellers try to get on base (90 feet from home).  "Gramps?  Can I have some cotton candy?"..  "Let me think on it., Sonny Sonny let me think on it.. . all these damn high grocery prices due to automation, I ain't real sure I got enough dough 'cause my SS check ain't gonna be automatically deposited in my account until midnight."

"Who called ya on the phone Gramps?"  "Ah, it was a buttdial. All this Gosh Darn automation, I hate it....oh, BTW, I peeked online at my account, I gotta'nuff for your cotton candy.. here's my debit card, please don't lose it.. they don't take cash no more... be safe, don't take all day, we gots baseball to watch and that pork butt should be done right about the time we roll inta home."

Automation.  Makes one stop and think.

The self checkouts at Wally are actually about 90 feet closer to the automatic enter/exit doors. Ain't never measured at Piggly, prolly about the same. Gotta get me onea them new 'lectrontic laser tape measures.

Perspective. 90 feet.  Could be 45 folks on a Peace March, Women's Rights March, Union workers, mebbe strikers.. 

"That Bobby Witt Jr, ain't he sumpin' Sonny?  He's up there in the top 5 for takin' 90' (stolen bases).. he's daring, when most take a double, he runs like the wind, takes an extra 90', leads the majors in triples.."  "Can I got get onea his jersey's Gramps?"  "Are you crazy, they're like $230 here at the park. .. after we down some yummy pork butt.. and after my SS check gets automatically deposited, we'll go to Wally and getya one.. they sell 'em real cheap thanks to mass production. (GD self checkout though)."

90 feet.  Go go, go Bobby go!

90 feet.  Sonny?  You need a haircut. Run to the mailbox to see if Great Clips has sent anuther one'a them $9.99 coupons.  If so, I'll use my app, get us an appointment, thataway we ain't gotta wait in line like all them other old fashioned folks.

90 feet.  43 soldiers marching , and four rolling in wheelchairs who returned to our homeland, but sacrificed limbs so that we may remain free.

Life. 90 feet.  It's all about perspective.

I fer sure ain't perfect, but, when I awaken, I try to automatically be thankful for the day..  and my freedom and to not get so upset over the triviality of much in life.

90 feet. Baseball, hot dogs (ketchup, yeah, why not) apple pie and Chevrolet, or Tesla, whatever.  Plug it in, go.

Love, Victurd