Wednesday, August 20, 2008

At the park today

"Did you see the ferrets?" the old woman at the park asked me looking back from the path she was walking on.

"I did."

"What did you dog think of them?"

Heidi is still on the leash I haven't removed it for fear of her chasing the ferrets which I saw when I entered the park. Also, I don't want Heidi jumping on this old woman who later tells me about her knee replacements and an old ski injury. "I didn't let her meet them."

"Oh, I had never seen a ferret before."

"No? But you recognized that they were ferrets."

"They told me. I asked." The friendly woman said.

Ferrets kind of scare me if you want to know the truth. I had one when I was younger. For a few days. I had to return it because we didn't understand each other. I knew it was a ferret, I mean, but I didn't know what to do with a ferret. It, conversely did nothing for me.

"What kind of dog is that?" isn't just the most common question I get walking Heidi but the one the old woman asked.

"Well, she's an Austrailian Shepard, Corgi mix." Is the best and most friendly answer I give to anyone and this woman.

"Ah, she has beautiful, intense eyes."

I've just heard that from a man at the school, next to the park. A man who paused right before the last word in the sentance. The two sentences he spoke to me.

That's a great (pause) eyes.

and

Have a nice (pause) night.

As if he was going to change what he wished me well at the last moment.

Walking with the woman I can't help to think of my grandmother, who is at home. We'd talk like this, sharing everything we could think of. I'm in no hurry to get rid of this company I'm with. And I think she enjoys it, too. "Have you lived by this park for a while?" I ask because I'm curious of this park I recently moved near.

"I used to live in an apartment near Reed, now I live over in Sleepy Hollow," she said or said some other apartment complex by name I wasn't familiar with. "I walk my neighbor's dog here every morning. I take her out because she lays in bed all day."

"Well that's nice of you to do," I said. "It's probably good for both of you."

It's nice to have for me to have an excuse to get up and out of the house to daily. This is the only time I've left the house this day. And not having the excuse to walk the dog I don't know if I would have at all, wouldn't be having this conversation that feels reminiscent of ones I've had with Grandma.

We walk on. "It's good for me to walk. I've had knee replacement, both knees, and I'm battling and dealing with an old ski injury," she told me. In high school the old woman skied at Timberline when it first opened. She loved it but broke her leg. After she recovered from that she started running with the men in her office (I didn't ask but was curious as to what she did) and that's how she wore her knees out.

"I'm going to walk this was," the woman said when we got to a bend at the top of the hill."

"OK, it was nice meeting you." I'm I'm left with Heidi to wonder if even though we didn't exchange names--just a couple of war stories--we did meet and it was nice.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Down and Out in Beijing

I joined the Olympics as a spectator. I caught what became a Fever. Soon, implanted in my head: BOM-BOM, BOM-BOM. Yes, I felt Phelps phenomenon. I was gay for Gay. Kobe, LeBron, together, No way.

I’ll watch what I can, I said, but then I felt nauseous, so I flushed with fluids . My fever lasted only a little longer than the 100 meter dash (9.96 seconds – Lighting Bolt!)

And just as quick as I got it, my fever is gone.

I became disappointed that the most exciting thing about these Summer Games was the achievement of a swimmer savant receiving more medals in one Games than anyone ever has—we won’t mention your DUI as long as you don’t mention anything larger in context to what it is you do: swim, down and back.

I realized, too, feverous in my obsession, I was like all other Americans, watching only Americans. We almost forget to realize that there are other countries in these Games, that there are other countries in this World. We’ve forgotten that there are other People living in other Places. We care only to broadcast U.S. The only colors we wish to watch on T.V. are red, white, and blue. And the only sports that we can watch are those that capture our attention in the time span of a few lengths of the pool. Further, the ones we dominate.

When I walked in on Bob Costas, Michael Phelps and Mark Spitz tri-copulating was I cured once and for all of my Olympic Fever. Gone was the sweltering inner temperature. No longer did my head pound the anthem BOM-BOM, BOM-BOM. I was done with these Games before they were over. I finished first.