Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Joe at the Laundromat

I met some lovely little mini-people in the park the other day. We had an in-depth conversation about the virtues of sparkly rocks and we discussed the best way to climb to the top of the boulder next to me. Although simple, it was probably the best conversation I had all day.

Happy 5th of May! Feliz Cinco de Mayo!
Being sick has its advantages. For example, it can take you out of your routine and put in the right place at the right time to meet some interesting characters. Take "joe" for instance. (His name is rabbit-eared because we didn't actually exchange names, but he totally looked like a joe) Anywho, I did laundry for my first time in the city at the laundromat on the corner today. I quickly remembered the joys of doing laundry in a quarter-starved, public laundromat: chill-axing to the lovely hum of driers, reading a good book and taking ample time for people-watching. As I sat down on a squeaky, blue chair to enjoy a borrowed copy of the book "Who moved my Cheese?" I noticed a hulkish man. Well, he was more of a mountain of flesh than a man. This guy was huge! His shoulders were as wide and muscular as the bronze bull's on Wall Street. With a noggin as bare as a bowling ball and tattoed arms the diameter of my legs, he appeared every inch the bad boy. Despite his menacing appearance, he sported a quizzical, lost expression on his face reminiscent of a little boy who has lost his mom at the grocery store. He was staring at a washing maching while his right arm hovered in the air, a single-use box of Tide clutched in his massive paw.

I asked if he were a body builder. He stood up real tall, flexed his mammoth arms and informed me of his six-time world champion status as a power builder. It might have made a really manly impression, were it not for the detergent box still hovering in his hand. I showed him how to operate the washing machine as he explained that it was his first time using a laundry machine ever. I thought I was a little behind the laundry game when I did my first load of laundry during my first week of college. I dyed all of my clothes different colors, then ended up spending about $10 a week doing a separate load for every single color. EVERY single color.

So what did I learn from Joe? I realized that it is never too late to learn how to do things. I could tell Joe was nervous and kind of embarassed about not knowing how to do laundry at his age. But he went for it and acquired a new skill. So, Joe inspired me to learn a particular skill many other has already learned at my age. Wish me luck on my attempt to acquire mad skills in ... well, I will let you know once I get it.


Sunday, May 2, 2010

Springing into NYC

Today I met so many interesting people with stories to share with me as I played the part of the intrepid traveler.

As I waited for my the airline ticket taker to announce B 30-60 in the terminal of the Las VegasAirport, I decided to kill time by doing a little people watching. I soon noticed one woman in particular. Short, blonde, mid-50s and not inheritantly attention getting, what really caught my eye were her accessories. She had four massive, curved tubes tied together and slung over her shoulder, looking every part the huntress with a big mass of bows. I jokingly asked her if she was going to use the tubes to make a giant hula hoop ... turns out, I nailed it on the head. Even though she was in what many consider the autumn of life, she has decided to pick up the hobby of doing tricks with hula hoops. She learned the tricks and how to make her special hula hoop watching videos on YouTube. The tubes looked like they would make a heavy, huge hula hoop (when put together, the tubes would have made a hoop over four feet long). Even though she had the waistline of a 13-year-old girl on a liquid diet, the woman insisted that "the bigger and heavier the better!"
As my new friend described her new hobby, a smile with childlike joy extended across her face. It was refreshing to see someone not acting their age, for having the courage and curiosity to take up a new hobby. I'm so inspired, I think I will finally sign up for a hip hop class. What have you always wanted to do that you have been putting off?



As I waited for the rest of the passengers to file onto the plane in Chicago, I tried to curb my boredom by flipping peanuts in the air and catching them in my mouth. After getting the evil eye from the lady in from of me (a few of my peanuts might have gone astray), I decided people watching would be a safer pasttime. I noticed a particular young woman coming up the aisle. It wasn't just the bright-red-streaked hair, the nose ring, the hands full of exotic-looking silver jewelry or the reflective, neon-yellow Dock Martins she was sporting that drew my attention (although, those shoes were pretty much the coolest thing ever). As she walked up the aisle, I noticed she was smiling - at everyone. I was pleased when we were seated together and had the chance to talk about our shared passions and our very different life plans.
This gal was all about community. She talked about organizing her far-flung family members for activities. She discussed her time as an R.A. at Berkeley working to help other kids develop a sense of family and community with their classmates. We conversed about the power of dance to produce and enforce a sense of community in a group of people.
That made me wonder why we stopped dancing together as a modern society? We used to dance as a community - our grandparents jitterbugged, sock hopped and triple swung 'til the night was day. Now "dancing" usually looks like individuals shuffling around awkwardly or couples that, well, should probably just get a room. Did we, as a modern society, stop dancing together because suddenly those old dances no longer represented the growing diversity of our community? Could a common, communal dance, be a missing ingredient in helping our diverse melting pot take on a cohesive, bonded form?
I love talking to random strangers. I hope I never get too caught up in my own life to stop learning from the random people who fate puts in my path.