Gentle heart, gentle words

At seven this morning, I went to McDonalds to read the paper and enjoy the usual: fifty cent senior coffee and a dollar Sausage McMuffin.  As I sat down, I saw that the guy in the booth next to me had a Hewlett-Packard carton and a small network computer on the table.

I asked him how he liked the computer. He told me that he had just opened the box and that the computer was okay, but he wouldn't suggest it for writing a long paper. I asked him a couple more questions and then sat down to eat and read. However, the guy kept on talking about the computer. He said he bought the small one because he didn't have the money for a laptop. He filled me in on his regular computer at home and that he didn't have Internet service. He said he thought that he had made a good decision. He again told me that he wouldn't suggest it for writing a long paper.

He soon became a bit irritating. I pick up a lot of conversations--this one was becoming strange, and I didn't want to know any more about this guy and his computer. I stopped responding and he finally he stopped talking. I could read and eat.

A few minutes went by before he made a cell phone call, talking loudly.

"Hi... I woke you up?

"I called to make sure you were up at seven fifteen--like you said.

"Well, that's what you asked me to do. I wouldn't wake you up if you hadn't asked me to wake you up.

"Yes, I did. Why? Are you surprised?

"Well, I asked you before I bought it. I wouldn't have bought it unless I had asked you first. 

"I can't return it now. Calm down.

"No, it's okay. We have a thousand dollar float on the credit card . I have a bill for a thousand, one for three hundred and one for eighteen for the car wash.

"No, that's seventeen-een--een--een and eighty cents, seventeen-een--een--een and eighty cents, seventeen-een--een--een and eighty cents.

"No, I'm not mocking you, it was seventeen-EEN-EEN-EEN and eighty cents for the car wash. You said eighty.

"Hey, I am not upset; I am not raising my voice. I speak with gentle heart and gentle words. You're the one who's yelling.

"The computer is nice; it sensed the wi-fi here and connected itself to the net.

"Wi-fi? Wi-fi is how the computer talks to the Internet. You don't understand anything about computers, do you?

"No, I'm not cutting you down. I just told the truth that you understand nothing about computers. Listen to me, I speak with gentle heart and words.

"I'm sounding like my father again? Get real, I am not my father, I never could stand the SOB.

"You don't want me to come home ever again? What does that mean?"

"Well, it's my house, too.

"I am not upset. You're the one who's upset. Breath deeply. One, two, three..."

The conversation continued. After ten more minutes, I realized that I hadn't read more than a paragraph. So, I picked up my stuff and moved to the othe side of McDonalds.

No escape. The conversation was just as loud--only everyone in the restaurant was now listening. After what seemed like hours, I got up and left--to read the paper at home. I guess I could have told him that he was talking too loud, but my street smarts told me that it was better just to leave.

The Purloined Skis

According to modern physics, there is a finite probability that one can just walk through a brick wall with out injury to the wall or the individual. That happened to me last Tuesday when I was skiing at Copper Mountain.

My friend Jim and I were skiing near the Timberline lift. After great runs on a perfect day with no lift lines, we decided to stop at the hutch at the base of the lift that was located half way up the mountain at 10,000 feet. We took off our skis and leaned them against a rack with at most 25 other pairs. We bought hot chocolate and set chatting at picnic table in the bright sun. We shared our granola bars with the gregarious Gray Jays.

Refreshed, we put our skis back on and rode up the lift. When we stopped part way down the run, I looked at my skis and noticed that they weren't mine! They were rentals from Christy Sports, but they were Solomon brand, not Rossingnol. I had taken someone elses' skis.

The hutch was a long way down the hill, a small speck between my ski tips. We raced down the hill; my best ski performance of the day. I imagined a guy coming back to put on his skis, only to find that they were gone. He certainly would be both confused and mad as hell.

We got back to the hutch quickly. I asked the people sitting at a table next to the ski rack if they had heard someone complaining about his skis being stolen. They all said no. I put the purloined skis back in the rack where I found them. I walked up the steps to the hutch and asked the guy running the concessions if anyone had complained about missing their skis. He told me he hadn't heard a thing.

I returned to the ski rack and put on the Rossingols I had started the day with. We skied down to the nearby lift and asked the operator if anyone had gone back up the lift with no skis on. The only way out of the area would be to ride up the lift to a higher one, and then ride down to the bottom. The operator said that no one had gotten on the lift without skiis.

So, I had unwittingly "borrowed" someone's rental skis that just happened to be Christy rentals that exactly fit my boots, took them to the top of the Timberline lift, skied back down, and then returned them where I had borrowed them.

We rode back up to the top and skied down to check at the hutch--the skis were still in the rack.

We returned to the top and skied back down to the hutch--the skis were gone--the guy never knew. I wonder what he would have said to me if he had found out that I was the one who stole his skis. I tried to find him, but I am not sure what I would have said.

Many have suggested that much of my life has unfolded this way. I unconsciously and luckily just happen to walk through walls with minimum injury. I lumber on and life is good.

Crazy Parking Rules

During a visit to downtown Hartford, Connecticut, wife Lois and I parked by the large park near the State Capital building. We were confused on parking rules. On the west side of the street, there was a kiosk where a parking permit could be purchased to be placed on the car dashboard. On the east side of the street, where we were trying to park, there were parking meters spaced at every third parking space. The meters cost $4 of quarters for two hours. There were no meters for the second and third parking spaces. There was a sign which said there was a two hour maximum parking time along the entire east side of the street. 

 

Since we were short quarters and getting change required walking several blocks in the 95 degree humid heat, it would be easier and cheaper to park in a space with no meters. That didn't make any sense. Having earned an $80 parking ticket in Georgetown many years ago after missing a cryptic sign that said no parking between 4:00 and 5:00 PM, we were skeptical of such a deal. So, we started to ask all the locals walking by on lunch break.

 

Everyone offered different advice--all conflicting. After talking to a handful of passers-by, I saw a car with Colorado plates parking in one of the "free slots." As the driver got out of his car, I ran up to him and said that I was from Colorado Springs. He said that he was also from the Springs. I asked him if where he was parking was free, and he said that his uncle had told him that it was.

 

I walked back to Lois and we received more conflicting opinions. Then a meter maid walked by. Someone who would know. She said that she only ticketed meters, but thought that the un-metered spaces were free. Nobody had told her why there was such a parking arrangement.

 

We needed to make a decision. We planned to tour the Capital, and thought that we need two hours. We only had ten quarters which we had by now pumped into the meter. So, we took the risk, leaving the meter with one hour and ten minutes showing and driving forward one space to a free zone.

 

We toured the Capital and returned to a car that had not been ticketed.

 

 

 

TMI

As I walked into the liquor store to buy some beer, I saw a woman in her thirties with bleached platinum blonde pixie-cut hair fringed in red and green. Multiple piercings adorned her face and navel. The man accompanying her had a shaved head with multiple piercings adorning his face.

She walked up to the check-out counter carrying a bottle of booze. She said to the clerk, "I lost my virginity with this stuff."

That was more than I wanted to know.

Sarah and Zack

My granddaughter Sarah (3 1/2) plays with her neighbor friend Zack. Here are two incidents related by Sarah's mom.

1) Sarah and Zack were playing tea party. Sarah, dressed as a princess, told Zack that she would turn him from a frog into a prince. After the transformation, she said, "Now I will call you Zachariah!" .

2) Sarah and Zack were playing with a toy computer. Zack said, "Since I'm the husband, I get to use the computer. Sarah said, "Well, I'm the wife and need to send an email."

Success

A young NBA star related that his father used to tell him that when he was asleep, someone else would be practicing. I can relate to that.

When I was in college, I did well in engineering school--only because when my fellow students were asleep, I was studying. My mental short comings were strengthened with hard work and running scared.

During my career at Hewlett-Packard as a designer and manager of computer stuff, I at times awakened at night, realizing that others, much smarter than I, were hard at work. High anxiety. They soon became my boss's boss.

Looking back at my successes in life, they have occurred when I have gone the extra mile. Most of my failures have been aided by a lack of effort.

My most painful failures are of a different type, coming when I did not admit (or sometimes even realize) that I just couldn't do it. Even though I was putting in excessive hours (at least excessive worry), my energy was misdirected. Truth was too painful. The boat was sinking; I did not have the insight to bail out nor ask for help.

The maxim: "Follow your dreams," can lead one to spending $150,000 on NYC acting school to secure a career as a Hollywood restaurant host. Believing that I can do anything has been both my forte and foible.

Today my dream is to run half a marathon in a few months. After I complete this 13.1 mile race, I will be in super shape with beautiful 68-year-old runner's legs, weigh ten to fifteen pounds less, and have an overall better feeling about myself and the world. However, if I continue to sit in this chair watching NFL playoffs all day, I will not to have to endure the pain of running six miles in the cold..

I feel much better being a guilty couch potato rather than feeling better about myself.

Learning about Sarah

My granddaughter Sarah is two years old. You learn something about who a child is when they are one; but when they are two they begin to reveal more about themselves: they just tell you.

Sarah was having a difficult day as a two year old. At nap time, her mother askded her which book she wanted read, "'Let's be Kind', or 'Let's be Happy'?"

Sarah said, "How about 'Lets be Frustrated'?"