Standing in my florescent yellow long-sleeved running shirt, I was finishing fueling my car.
A woman in a car driving by, opened the window and yellowed out, "Hey, you look like you are with the Tour de France."
Perhaps she thought I was Lance Armstrong. :-)
While visiting my father in a nursing home, I watched an old couple in the dining room. The wife, slumped in a wheel chair, comatose; her eyes toward the ceiling; her mouth gaped open. Her husband fed her baby food with a trembling hand. He wiped off her lips with the spoon and a napkin.
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I read a story by a woman who told of meeting an eighty-year-old man. He said that he had to get to the nursing home to have breakfast with his wife, who had Alzheimer's disease. The woman was surprised at his loyalty--that he would return every day to a wife who no longer recognized him.
The old man told her, "She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is."
The woman thought: I had to hold back tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought: That is the kind of love I want in my life. True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.
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I know my wife would take care of me in such a condition. I would like to think I would do the same--but I feel trepidation...
Our Frontier Airlines plane taxied for takeoff at the old Stapleton airport in Denver.
"Captain Joanne Lewis is our pilot for this flight," the flight attendant announced. "In fact, we have an all-female crew, the first ever for Frontier... Please fasten your seatbelts."
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I guess the story is dated. At the time, it was an amusing juxtaposition for a historical happening. I told the above to a thirty-year-old career woman recently. No response. I sensed she sensed I was a sexist. Oh, well.
The moment my daughter Rebecca walked into Target, her three week-old son started to shriek, followed by her 19 month-old daughter. She had ventured out alone for the first time with two children.
The kids continued to act out with no concern for their stressed out mom. Looking over the top of her glasses, a woman looked around the aisle corner and clucked, "Oh...I was worried that the children were abandoned." Rebecca spent a total of eight minutes in Target before she fled.
On her way home she listened to a radio talk-show caller radio, who, believe it or not, said she worked at Target. When asked what things bugged her at work; the caller carped, "Those mothers with out-of-control children."
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Yesterday, as I sat in the YMCA foyer, a woman with kids about the ages of Rebecca came in and sat down near me. I told her and a couple of other women the story about Rebecca at Target. Everyone could relate and were amused. Then a woman told the following:
A woman stood at the checkout counter with her daughter in the cart and a line of people behind her. Her daughter started a terrible tantrum with a loud scream.
Her mother spoke, "Relax, Maria... Everything is going to be okay... Take a deep breath... Let it go, Maria..."
The woman behind her said, "I can't believe how calm you are with your daughter Maria."
The mother explained, "That's Emily; I'm Maria."
This morning I helped out at the finish of a large Thankgiving day road race. While we were waiting for the first runners to cross the finish line, there was a girl in the finish chute next to me who was doing the same job as I. She was disagreeing with her mother and pouting. Apparently, her mother recruited her to help with the finish line.
After her mother left, I talked to her--asking where she went to school--thinking she was about fifteen. She told me that she was a freshman at the local college.
I bet she lives at home. Time to get away from mom.
Sheryl Crow, singer and save the earth activist, suggested a few months back that people should not use more than one sheet of toilet paper per session. There might an occasional emergency when one would be allowed to use two or three sheets.
I noticed that a nine pack of Quilted Northern double roles has 392 square feet of tissue. That should be enough to last Sheryl for two years -- including those three tissue moments.
Don't you just love glitterati who lecture us on how to save the earth, but live in multi-million dollar glass houses and private jet around the world. Sheryl Crow's suggestion shows that she is more than just talk; she is walking the walk. Four squares a day--now that's real commitment. It will be a struggle for our family, but we are moved.
I am impressed by those who have real commitment to making this a better earth.
A few engineer friends have build ultra energy efficient houses and are totally self sufficient with no utilities of water, gas, or electricity. They built their houses in a hillside or from used old tires and aluminum cans. They live year round at 59 degrees with the carbon footprint of a mouse. Now that's commitment.
When an engineer started working in the same R&D lab as I, he talked about the downsides of consumerism. When he was offered a raise, he refused on basic principles. More raises came over the years -- he refused them all. Now that's commitment.
There was a professor who taught conservation at a nearby university. He recycled and composted much of his stuff. At the end of each year he took one sack of trash to the dump on his bicycle. Now that's commitment.
Calls for conservation from the jet setters are a bit hollow if they are not willing to sacrifice--like Sheryl Crow and her four squares.
Last week, I heard that Sheryl told a reporter that she actually had been joking about the toilet paper. What a perfidy!
Say it ain't so, Miss Crow.
