Lighten Up and Live Longer

Eccentricity adds flavor to our lives. We should embrace it and let our minds rise up to meet it. Case in point: on a trip to Christchurch, New Zealand, I became acquainted with the Wizard of Cathedral Square. This wizened individual comes to Cathedral Square Monday through Friday to expound on his topics of the day- for two hours or so. The town fathers, in their wisdom, and seeing the crowds of visitors his perspectives attracted, put him on retainer.

For thirty years now, at precisely 1:00 pm weekdays, he drives his 1956 aqua Plymouth Zephyr into Cathedral Square, puts on his wizard robe and pointy hat, hauls out his stepladder, which he drags into the middle of the square, climbs it and blows a ram’s horn three times. When he has our attention, he begins his sermon. On this particular day, he discoursed on the lamentable downfall of wizards and magicians. He blames the church for usurping their power by controlling the art of writing. He also claims, and many of us believe, that women rule the world. This started, he proposes, when the church preached that women should be fruitful and multiply. Along the way, as a practical consideration of having babies and having to feed them, they invented agriculture and animal husbandry. Then they domesticated men. When the babies  became too numerous, they would send the men over the hill to start a war and pare the populus.

Now, if we could get women to take over more world governments and get the men to have the babies, we wouldn’t have a population problem or a need for wars. I’d like to get the wizard working on that one.

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I love my husband dearly. And my son and his wife. I´m dilerious about my first grandchild. But the most constant anchor in my life is my sister. Multiply that by three. There are four of us. We have a very exclusive club: The S.P.S., the sisters preservation society. When I feel like celebrating, I call a sister. When I´m traumatized, I can a sister. It doesn´t matter which one.Each is as individual and special as a snowflake, with different perspectives, attitudes, gifts, and attributes. I learn from each. We all have one thing in common: our ability to share joy and pain with each other and with each other´s children.

The empathy our parents can´t supply because of their upbringing is abundantly available in the S.P.S.  I recently spent a whole week on vacation with a sister. We shared childhood memories, traumas, aging concerns, in our case- cancer, and all the secret girl things women share. We part, secure in that undying support.

So you say you feel alone sometimes, and yet you have a sister? It´s never too late to capture that bond. Call her. Call her today.

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It’s Not Always About US

Several years ago, a friend and I were driving to lunch. A guy in an SUV cut her off. She muttered: Brain Tumor, and went back to what she way saying. I interrupted her. Why had she said brain tumor instead of telling off the jerk?

            Oh, that’s just my way of reminding myself that he may have had something really serious going on in his life, and to cut him a little slack. That way, it doesn’t get me all upset. We don’t always know why someone acts the way they do. Usually, it’s not about us at all; it’s about what’s going on with them.

            Well, I thought about that and decided it was a pretty good philosophy, so I started saying brain tumor to myself whenever someone was curt or rude to me on the phone, in a store, or on the road. It worked. I gave them the benefit of the doubt, decided it wasn’t about me at all, and let it go. It was empowering.

            A few months after that, we took a family vacation to Mexico. Our son wanted to do some exploring, so we signed up for a one-day tour to a remote island that had scuba diving, horseback riding, and hiking to a pretty waterfall. It was everything you’d want from a Mexican vacation. We joined about fifteen other people on the excursion boat and set off for a cruise to the island. When we arrived, we got suited up for diving and got in the water. One man on the trip soon started to grate on our nerves. He kept asking questions that seemed dumb, slowing down the group. We couldn’t descend to check out the fish and coral formations until all his questions were answered.

            Finally, he was satisfied and we could get on with the diving. After diving, we put shorts over our bathing suits, donned hats and set off for the waterfall. As we started off, I heard a familiar voice: Excuse me, excuse me, could you take my picture?  It was our irritating comrade, perched atop a mangy-looking horse and waving a small camera. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I grudgingly went over to him and took the camera. All right, is this for the folks back home?

            Well, in a way. It’s for my wife. I want to show her what a good time I’m having!  I looked at him, dumbfounded. You mean, your wife didn’t come?

            No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t get off work, but she wanted me to come and have a really nice time. She used up all of her vacation time taking care of me while I was being treated for-  my brain tumor.

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While at a conference one time, a man came up to me and said, “You probably don’t remember me, but I really enjoyed talking to you at the conference in Atlanta.” I said I was flattered, but I hadn’t attended the conference in Atlanta. We talked for a moment longer, and as I walked away, I was struck by the joy of that moment. His self-esteem was so solid and his attention projected so outwardly, he didn’t see how funny it was that he was able to say: “You probably don’t remember me…” The gentleman had only one arm and one leg- on opposite sides of his body. He was a professional like me, no more, no less. We should all rejoice in that.

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When the 90-ft centerpiece tree in our front yard died, Bob decided we would take it out. Looking at the work involved, I decided this was a job for a contractor. Especially since a steady stream of them had been dropping off quotes for weeks, ranging from $400 to $1000.  Of course, I started with the $400 guy. No problem.  He’d do it the next day.  I rearranged some appointments so I would be there.  The night before, he called.  Something “personal” had come up and he’d have to reschedule for the next week.  Again, I arranged to be there.

The scheduled morning came, no tree guy.  I called his home and his wife apologized, but could I wait awhile to take the tree down?  It seems the day before, he had cut his arm off with the chainsaw, had been airlifted to a medical center where it was reattached.  Looked like he’d be fine, but it would be awhile before he could climb up in that tree and take it out.

I moved on to the $600 guy.  He could do it the next day.  This time, I would meet him, but then leave.  I didn’t think I really wanted to be there, especially when two small guys showed up, EACH wielding a chainsaw.

When I returned home later that evening, the tree was gone, along with every twig and branch.  Even better – no spare body parts. If HOW it’s done is up to someone else, try not to worry too much about the process.

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While driving through Australia, we noticed a pile of white bags along the road with a sign: “Horse manure $1.00 a bag.”  A little further on was a sign proclaiming that we had just entered the Tourist District. Immediately after that sign was another pile of white bags, this time advertising: “Horse Poo $1.50 a bag.”

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If at first you don’t succeed, then skydiving definitely isn’t for you.

A decision is a place where you got tired of thinking.

The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.

Borrow money from pessimists. They don’t expect it back.

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Eagle Country 104: Country with an Altitude

Buenva Vista, Colorado: 8,000 Feet Above Average

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