Piglets In A Basket

So, many years ago I rode my bicycle in Vietnam.  It wasn’t a tourist bike group with van support; it was two girls with panniers and a map.  This was long after the war and just at the time that Vietnam was beginning to open up. 

This friend I went with had ridden her bike all over the planet.  It was she that got me into endurance sports.  She was all about the basics.  She mocked fancy equipment.  All you needed was spit and guts.  So for a long time I felt the same. Vietnam was a country of bikes and our mountain bikes attracted a lot of attention. 

Vietnam at that time was one of the poorest countries in the world.  Upon arriving I was shocked at the level of the poverty.  I had been to poor countries but not on this level.   It was beautiful and the people were very kind.   I began to understand that people who have nothing give everything.  It’s when you get some worldly goods that you clutch onto them.  Camel and the eye of the needle and all that.

I had many adventures, but for now I will tell but a few.  We rode south from Hanoi, there was one main road and we’d pass through many towns.  It seemed everyone was learning English and would like to practice on us.  Hello!  Where are you from!  Often people would ride with us.   People would be on their way to market, and sometimes you’d see piglets in a basket.  One time a guy had a large hog strapped on the back of his bike.  He rode a little too close to me.  I wanted to say, “excuse me sir, your pigs nose is rubbing against my thigh.”  I didn’t, I tried to create space but he wanted to ride with me.  Fortunately it was a small town.  

Frequently, schoolboys would want to race me.  I’d say, “guys, I’m happy to ride with you, but I’m going another 40 miles and I’m not racing you right now.”  They might not have understood the exact words but they understood the sentiment, and seemed to content to ride alongside me, each waving as they made the turn to their homes.

We landed in a small beautiful fishing village and stayed for a bit.  One day I went to the market with my bike just as kindergarten let out.  Instantly, 50 little children surrounded me, each wanting to touch my bike.  I smiled and let them.  And then it was time to go.  They weren’t letting me.  I said, please, please, please.  They answered back in high-pitched voices, please, please, please.  I said, lam on, lam on, lam on (please in Vietnamese).  They answered back, lam on, lam on, lam on (okay they probably didn’t know I was trying to speak their language, but they were very good mimics).  I tried, I must go.  They responded, go, go, go.  This went on for a bit.  I’m not sure how I managed to untangle myself.  They were very cute, but wow, the power of multiple 5 year olds!

It’s a wonderful country and a fabulous trip.  Perhaps I shall write more about it. 

Fear of Dinosaurs

So, I have a friend whose young son developed a fear of dinosaurs.  Most children love them, but not 4-year old Jackson as evidenced by his nightmares. So she told him, don’t worry they lived a long, long time ago way before humans were ever on the planet.  You'll never see a dinosaur walking down the street or in the supermarket.  Jackson thought for a bit and asked, how do we know what they look like then? A good question, because scientists are smart, Jackson.  Jackson then developed a fear of crocodiles.  Don’t worry, my friend said, you won't see a crocodile on our street, in the neighborhood or in the supermarket.

True for a suburb of New York.  Just don’t go to Florida.  My father lived on a golf course.  He was playing a round of golf and he kicked a rock out of the way.  It didn’t move, so he kicked it again.  Still didn’t move so this time he gave it a harder kick.  Again this rock was not budging.  He looked down to discover he’d been kicking an alligator.

Suddenly I remembered an incident that happened to a friend.  He lived in a very nice doorman apartment on the Upper West Side.  He had a long day at work and came home. His kitchen was off to the side of his door, he was hungry so he went in and started to prepare dinner.  He went into his living room turned on the light and there right in the center of the floor was a snake. A large snake. He backed out of the room trying not to spook the snake, ran out of the door and out of the building.  He called 911 and the Department of Animal Care and Control arrived to capture the snake.  Probably someone’s pet snake had escaped. 

My friend cleaned his apartment and that was that.  Me, I’d have to move.  I certainly would not be able to stay there that night or any night.

65.5 million years ago dinosaurs went extinct.  An asteroid hit the earth causing an ice age.  Fear of a dinosaur is a little unfounded.  Another asteroid?  That could happen.  And fear of snakes, well, that is quite common.  Just ask Indiana Jones.

Skateboarding on Thin Ice

So, it was a gorgeous sun soaked pre spring day and I took a long walk.  It seemed as if everybody was out and about.  I found myself in Washington Square Park on a bench. The promenade was warm and the trees provided shade.  There was no end to the cast of characters vying for attention, but one stood out.  

     

He had a skateboard and he wanted to show he knew how to use it. He wasn’t in the first blush of youth, or the second or the third.  He made a grand announcement that he would ride over one garbage pail.  Those around me barely paid attention.  Not even when he crashed.

He then made an announcement that he would attempt the very difficult feat of riding over two garbage pails.   Again, he crashed.  He didn’t appear to hurt himself because he would quickly pick himself up and make his next announcement.  Attention Ladies and Gentlemen - this time he would attempt the difficult feat of…. three garbage pails. The crowd around me started paying attention.  And, down he came. 

By his fourth announcement, the person sitting next to me (a stranger) and I were holding onto each other laughing so hard we had tears streaming down our faces.  Once again, the skateboarder didn’t fail to fail.  He scrambled up, and started again.

He didn’t seem to hurt himself.  Drunks and children, perhaps.  Though he never made any of the great leaps, or any leap, I have to admire the fact that he kept trying with bigger and bigger bravado. I do hope, however, that he gives up this form of entertainment.  Ah, the joys of a sunny Sunday.

Wild Girls

So, I coach fourth graders in swimming for an Upper East Side school.  There are 3 classes in the grade and they rotate.  This next class 4A I know from coaching cross country.  They are wild. Big personalities, hilarious, smart and fun and I like them a lot. But wild. With swimming you really need the girls to pay attention, so throughout the day I was anticipating the crazy.

We take a bus to the swimming pool.  The big girls (6th graders) take a bus to the bronx and their bus is always on time, waiting for them down the block.  We wait and wait for our bus that always stops right in front of the school. That day a bus stops, we get on and go. We were on the wrong bus.  The bus driver adjusts quickly and heads to our pool located just 10 blocks away.  My fellow coach on the phone, tells me, “you wouldn’t believe what’s going on.” More on this in a bit.

I’m not paying too much attention because the girls are hilarious.  They want to see Fifty Shades Darker.  Ummm, in about 9 years I say.  Why, they say, is it scary?  You could say that I say.  Are there ghosts?  I laugh.

One of the hardest parts of coaching 9 year old girls  is getting them dressed after swimming.  They move frantically about but somehow all that movement doesn’t seem to involve getting dressed and drying their hair.  The locker room is chaos.   I’m calling out – 7 minutes left, 6, when someone hands me a baby.

A woman with two toddlers and a baby, had entered the locker room and thrusted the baby into my hands. Will you take him? she asks, as she enters the rest room.  Uh, yeah, I say. I continue to move the girls along.  The girls ask the obvious question, “how did you get that baby?” “Someone gave him to me,” I say.  The baby is red faced and screaming so I’m holding him at arms length.  I think, okay, enough screaming baby and hand him off to my fellow coach.  So the woman with the toddlers hands the baby to one woman and retrieves it from another.

We arrive back to school and learn the complete story of the wrong bus.  The swim coach of the 6th graders (whose bus we took) made a big scene.   In front of parents and school administrators.  Screaming - that’s not my bus!  That’s not my bus driver!  The Syrian Ambassador was in residence down the street and the cops needed to keep traffic moving.  Move it, move it, they screamed.  And here’s this coach acting like a maniac because it was the wrong bus.  Well, she got to where she needed to go and so did we.

The girls were great.  The world around them was chaotic but they were great.  All in a day's work.  This week it's a new class.  Stay tuned.

Freaky

So, a woman I know told me about her friend, who I will call Cathy. Cathy was not slim to begin and she started to gain even more weight. This continued and her belly began to get bigger. Cathy did everything right, she hired a trainer and received guidance on nutrition.  She followed instructions.  She did cardio, she ate right and still her belly grew.  This continued for about six months.  

However, Cathy saw no change and her belly began to grow and grow. Soon she began to feel really bad. This went on for a few more months and finally, she went to a doctor who did a battery of tests. It turns out she had a tumor in her abdomen. A 30 - pound tumor.  Benign.  A rare type of tumor called a teratoma.  What makes this tumor so freaky is that it can grow hair and teeth, and sometimes processes such as limbs.  It has even been know to grow tissues normally found in organs such as the brain or lung.  Fortunately, Cathy's surgery went well, everything was removed and she's fine now.

I’ve had a couple of sleepless nights since hearing this. This is the stuff nightmares and science fiction are made of - yet it’s true.  So the next time your belly isn’t feeling so well, go to the doctor! 
 

MTA JOY

So, the other day I got on a bus with my NYC instincts on full alert as they always are when the MTA is involved.  My radar read - angry crazy woman in the front and crazy but not so angry in the back.  I sat in the back.  A few minutes later the woman near me started to meow.  Not sweet little mewing but a full on howling.  I'm thinking I made a wrong decision so I more towards the front.  She continues her loud wails and then her phone rings.  She has a reasonable, rational conversation.  Maybe job related, there are stats stated, decisions discussed and logical pronouncements. Then she hangs up. And low and behold, the meowing commences again.  Fortunately I was not too far from my stop.  Oh the fun bus drivers must experience every day.

So, when I got to my destination I told my friend about my bus ride.  He told me about the time he was on the subway and an elderly gentleman was singing Jesse's Girl.   The elderly gentleman knew the melody, but didn't know the real words and sang some gibberish.  However he did know one line of the song, which he sang out loud and clear each time it came around and that was - "How can I find a woman like that?" Let's give this man some credit, at least he knows what he wants.

I’ve heard tell

There was a young man who lived in a small town.  His fiancé had just broken up with him.  He was very much in love with her and was bereft.  He couldn’t even fathom life without her.  There was only solution in his mind.  He would take his own life.  

There was a river that flowed through the town and a bridge over this river.  He couldn’t swim and decided if he  jumped off the bridge it would be a fast, easy death.  He came to the highest point smack in the center of the bridge.  He stayed for a few moments, mustering up all his misery to do the deed. He climbed to the top of the ledge.  Took a breath and jumped.  

As he was on his way down he came to his senses and screamed, “This is a mistaaaaaakkkkkke!”

Fortunately, this whole scene was observed by a witness, who jumped in and saved the man.   I’m not sure if the man ever got back together with his ex fiance.  But I can guarantee that this man has a renewed appreciation for life.

***
A friend was sitting on a jury.  It was deep in summer and there was no air conditioner.  There was a ceiling fan that rattled on, the defense attorney rattled on and the court stenographer clicked away.  Deep in the middle of a long droning by the defense attorney the entire court simultaneously realized that it seemed a little quiet.  The court stenographer had stopped. The judge turned to her and asked what was going on.  The stenographer pushed away her chair, took her glasses off her nose and in a deep Bronx accent said, “I’m tired.”  The judge called for a recess until the next day with an admonition for the stenographer to rest up.