Joy Like a Fountain

On Sunday morning we had brunch at Scrambles.
On Sunday afternoon we had lunch (lupper?) at Saigon II.

Scrambles and Saigon II do not feature haute cuisine.

But because we brunched with Lissa and Mitch at Scrambles
And then dined with Paul, Linda and Lisa at Saigon II

Sharing smiles and laughter of these long missed friends
Seasoned our food perfectly.

What Became of the Monk?

Today I washed the Fisher Price Circus Wagon.
I had to scour the plastic parts vigorously and with soft scrub to remove nearly 50 years of dirt.
I had to be really gentle with the wooden parts, they are covered in colored paper. If I scrubbed too hard, the animals would lose their clothes and faces.
As my fingers pruned up I wondered which animal Beatrix will like the best and whether she will find the clown as
creepy as Ryan and I did (and still do!).

Smiling Slumbers

By evening, the fog rolls out to sea and the pale setting sun warms the city for the time in over a week. After work we walk toward the water. He loves the harbor with the yachts, tugs, ferries and fishing boats. He buys two slices, declares them tasteless (nothing is as good as real NYC pizza, preferably from Pugslies in the Bronx) and we continue our trek. As we draw nearer we walk faster until he stops abruptly in front of Mexicali Blues with its racks of merchandise lining the sidewalk. His eyes are on a tiny red hooded sweater knitted in Peru with colorful farm animals dancing around the front and back.

I make the purchase since he can't go in with the pizza.

All night a little red hooded Beatrix romps through my dreams.

City by the Bay

The fog horn vibrates as we eat our lunch with the NY Times
I am working the crossword
He is reading the business section
It is a rare treat, both working in the same city and having time to eat lunch together.
The fog horn sounds again we look up and smile
remembering another ocean and long ago fog drenched days.

The Paths Not Chosen

“On July first I'll celebrate 30 years here; I think that is quite an accomplishment,”
she announces to anyone listening as she grabs her smokes and heads out back.

I think that if I had to
work at the same job
at the same company
living in the same town
for 30 years

I’d want to kill myself with something faster acting than nicotine.

Nothing Fair about Health Care

I eavesdrop on their conversations before I start the training. Some of the employees are “temps” and thus, among other minuses, they don’t have medical benefits. A 20 something woman says her doctor diagnosed her eye as infected from her contact lens and prescribed medicine, but at the pharmacy last night she learned the prescription was $70 and decided to skip it. I look up from my computer to see her eye is bloodshot and drippy.

I go to the CVS on Congress to get my prescription filled. I take two cards out of my wallet. My prescription coverage card and my credit card. It turns out I need neither – my coverage info is in the CVS computer system and the cost to fill my prescription? 62 cents. I hand the pharmacist a dollar bill.

$.62?

Lost in the Flood

I sort of like running in the rain, especially when it's not too hot. It makes my run a challenge, an adventure. This is true even when my body parts not covered by my LL Bean windbreaker are getting really, truly soaked.
Like today.

Rounding the corner onto Congress, I check my watch and notice my time is way off
Maybe it‘s my heavy, wet feet or I’m slowed by having to wipe the rain from my eyes
As my sloshing sneakers run I try to think of words to describe this rain
Words that aren’t overused; phrases that aren't clichés.

Cats and dogs, teeming, pouring, steady, coming down in buckets, gushing, downpour

I can’t think of anything new but however I describe it, the street people are out in it.

They don’t have LL Bean rain gear or even hoodies. All the regulars are all here, dripping, drenched, slogging along their usual routes, stopping at trash cans in their unending search for empties. When I run by, the one I call the Cleric gives me a thumbs up, and a block later, the one I call Jerry Garcia gives me a smile and wave as he stumbles his way through the flood.
I wish I had ponchos to throw to them. So they could appreciate this box of rain.

Sacrifice the TV for the Kids' Sake

A recent study again supports what should be theatre of the obvious to educated parents: when you turn on the tv you turn off conversations. The University of Washington study found that every hour the tv is on, even if not actively viewed, babies and toddlers hear an average of 770 fewer words from their adult caretaker and they themselves speak less.

The challenge is to enlighten and motivate the uneducated parents to let them know their children reap HUGE benefits from:
1) talking to them a lot about the world, not just to discipline
2) reading to them at least an hour a day
3) keeping the tv off

Of course educated parents already know this but often neglect to keep the tv off, so how do we inspire those parents who don't see the connection?

Not Quite Mayberry

I am surprised when the elevator stops on the 15th floor.
At 4:40 am I usually ride down alone.
But at 15 they get on,
The tall Dad
And his two sleepy eyed daughters
And two really long fishing poles.
As I listen to their muted morning musings I guess he does not have custody, just visitation.
They head to the parking garage while I run up Oak St.
I hope to catch more than fish today.

31 Years

Running in opposite directions
Sometimes we meet

Like this morning
As I finished up; he was heading out
We extend our hands – fingers stretched to do a not-so-high-five

And later over oatmeal and coffee he marvels aloud at my “fans”
The cabbies – cops – garbage collectors – street people – fishermen – newspaper deliverers
who smile, wave, nod and beep at me

and he says,
“You know of all of them
I am your biggest fan.”
And my whole self smiles
because I am the luckiest person ever

Pink Slips

Last week a friend and business associate was fired.

He planned to retire a year ago but his rapidly diminishing 401K changed his mind.
Too bad he didn’t retire.

It is hard to be outraged about his termination. He didn’t work for my company, I had nothing to do with his firing.
Still there is no good time to be fired and right now seems about the worst.

Several times over the past year I suggested he stop putting his anger into emails.
Too bad he didn’t stop.

I phoned and left him a voice message, but he didn’t pick up or return the call. Maybe he is still too angry and upset.

I will miss working with him and his sense of humor.
I won't miss his angry emails.

The Most Objectionable Thing about this Public Bathroom

The mad dash is on when the conference ends and by the time I nudge my way into the women’s bathroom there is already a line.
The instructor who teaches Labor Relations is mid-sentence as she departs the bathroom explaining that her son phoned her during the conference very upset and that her first thought was that he was injured but it turned out he lost his iphone. Good news, he found it. Oh, her son is 32.

With that punch line she departs.

One of her listeners finishes washing her hands, but before she too departs, turns to me and loudly proclaims that if HER son did that she would “bitch slap” him.

Swallowing my revulsion, I calmly suggest “That won’t help.”

“Yeah, but it’d make me feel better.”

And with that she leaves, fortunately before she can decide that “bitch slapping” ME might also make her feel better.

Furry Fans

Running up Mountain Drive on a June morning
under a sky with cumulus clouds slowly heading to
the dark side of nimbus
With just enough gaps for the rising sun
To beam pinge in the east.

The display glows off the mirrored Bose building
Nearly empty at dawn
A deer seems to emerge from nowhere
Did she come from Bose building?

At the thudding sound of my running feet,
She runs across the parking lot, her white tail up in alarm
Afraid of me.
I keep running, all the time watching her
Afraid of her

I don’t want a collision
She doesn't want to be shot

Across the road she stops on the grass, turns her eyes locked on me
Her tail is down
She looks at me
I look at her
Until we both know there is nothing to fear here.
She stands still as I run by
then disappears into the brambles
while I keep running

Morning Meditations

He doesn’t show up until my third or fourth lap
Sitting calmly on the brick wall in front of the plaza next to Thai Chef Buffet.
I think of him as The Cleric – maybe it is the beard and hair.
He always gives me a thumbs up as I run by.
I return the gesture with an added finger point, sort of a non-verbal, “no you.”
A shared smile with a stranger.

Pre-Roids

The crossword puzzle reminded me
That once upon a time the worst thing in Baseball
Was that Pete Rose gambled.

Promote This Employee!

At work I was training two dozen managers on how to work effectively as a team.
One activity involves selecting cards printed with words that describe you.
All the employees focused on which traits they have,
except one guy.
Silently he’d select a card and, handing to a coworker, softly suggest that she or he might want it.
“You’re so organized, Jess, I thought this might be perfect for you.”
In a world of “what about MY needs” he was a welcome relief.