Riding The Rails

The family van broke down yesterday, and was sent off to the mechanic for resurrection. Just so you know, in terms of automobiles, money makes all things possible.

Which meant that I took the bus today. All day. Yeap. A nightmare come true.

I needed to go to a seminar this morning on Motivational Interviewing in the health field. It's all about empowering your client and helping them find the answers to their problems. It was amazing.

What took 1 hour travel time to get to took nearly 3 hours to get away from. I thought I would go out of my mind. When the subway stop came into view, I nearly flew out the window jumping out of my seat in anticipation of getting off the bus. I had been standing/sitting on that elongated metal box for over 1 hour.

The subway was another matter entirely. The rules have changed: there are no restrictions for bicycles on subways anymore. We just have to put them on certain cars that have less seats and more room.

A fellow traveler got on at my stop, and literally talked, non-stop, for the next 35 minutes about bikes, his bike, my bike, everyone else's bike, the bike he was gonna put together. I loved it. Talk about entertaining. He took my mind off the police activity 5 stops up, which delayed our travel time by 15 minutes.

Which is a funny story by itself. When the conductor explained that police activity was going to keep us sitting still for 4 to 5 minutes, most of us heard 45 minutes and passengers scampered off the train like cockroaches after the light's turned on. It took a passenger's emergency call to the conductor to get that straightened out and we called our fellow passengers back.

If one needs to travel in public, it's best that public is happy, kind, and a little nutty. Makes the time out go that much quicker.

Spending Time Making Friends

This past week, the California Dietetic Association held its convention in Pasadena, California, just a stone's throw from my home. As a member in good standing, I was able to get one of the coveted volunteer positions for students, which means free attendance.

I learned a lot, as my duties included assisting the speakers during three lectures spanning over 4 hours. But what I remember most is spending time with old friends and meeting new ones. It was great to see all my former co-students who have gone on to other endeavors.

In the process, I made new friends as well. May it be the will of G-d that this is only the beginning.

Rock And Roll I Don't Like

Yesterday, Shabbat, a friend came up to me and whispered, "are your sons planning on starting a rock group?"

Now, most mothers might get excited at the prospect of their sons entering the limelight, showcasing their talent, being popular. But not me. The thought sent a cold chill down my spine.

This is due, in part, to the fact that we have had a rash of deaths among our youth as of late. In the last six months, we've lost three young men: a 22-year old, recently engaged, drowned Erev Shabbat in a diving accident; a 23-year old overdosed; and just a few days ago, a 37 year old father of four was found dead not long after Moshiach Seudah - the final matzoh and wine bash before Passover ends.

So imagine my feelings when I hear "rock group" and my sons in the same breath. Please, boys, play your guitars, hang out with friends, but be careful about the rock world. It's harsh and not very forgiving. I did not train you for that. Making kiddish Friday night, davening with a minyan, loving babies - yeah, I'll take credit for that.

Good thing we don't know the future. No point freaking out early. For now, I'll just yoga breathe.

Old Friends

I've been thinking about my friend Sharon for a while now. Every now and then I ask myself, I wonder how Sharon is doing? And then I get right back to what I was doing before I asked myself that question. Some friend I am.

Lucky for me, Sharon is a true friend, and I wonder no more how she is because today, she came a calling, knocking on my door at around 5 pm this Shabbat. She knew I would be home because it's my custom to say the entire book of Tehillim each Shabbat in the merit of my brother's recovery.

I didn't mind giving up that custom today. Sharon and I talked for hours, reminiscing about the old days when we exercised together every morning at the local, now defunct women's gym, and caught each other up on current events.

How wonderful to see old friends. It's like we never parted. I went back to saying Tehillim after she left, and got as far as 130. I promised the One Above I would finish tomorrow morning first thing. Funny, I actually made that promise before Sharon came over because I figured I would fall asleep and wake up too late to finish it all.

Kinda weird, but a good idea, when dealing with customs, it give oneself an out up front.

Trying To Stay Positive

No doubt Passover is one of the hardest holidays, financially, mentally, and physically, to adhere to. First, it requires buying lots of food and matzoh for a very short period of time.

Being immersed in the physical world, there's no avoiding the bread, and that's hard on the head. Messes with you. Makes you wish things you shouldn't.

And then last but certainly not least, the physical preparation of the home and all that food. Please G-d, I remember being a slave in Egypt. It was bad. But eight days of this, somehow, seems worse.

I guess I'm missing the big picture. Thank you for sticking by me Martha. Now I don't feel so alone.

A Motorcycle for Me?

As anyone who has been married as long as I have, or longer, knows, at some point you kinda don't pay attention to all the nutty things your spouse says. Like my mother used to say - in one ear and out the other. Especially since my husband is recommending that I get a motorcycle.

Okay, please. I'm on the wrong side of 52, overweight, and not very agile (read previous posts about my attempts to exercise). So the thought of me being on a motorcycle is kinda ludicrous, to say the least. I mean, how long would I last?

Which reminds me of the year 1984. That was the summer the Olympics came to town. Everyone was all excited, and filled with thoughts of how the city would be mired down in one big traffic jam. I once worked for Peterson Publishing Company as a writer for Four Wheel and Off-Road Magazine (didn't even own a car then), so I called one of the other magazines in the stable, Motorcyclist, for a tip on a good motorcycle for myself, figuring it would zip me through traffic.

The editor, no friend of mine, told me frankly after hearing about my lack of motorcycle experience: "Lady, you're gonna die out there." Good enough for me. Haven't given motorcycles another thought since. Until now. And only fleetingly.

After 20 years of marriage, my husband is either trying to get rid of me or is using me as an excuse to get a motorcycle for himself. How charming!

Has It Ever Happened to You. . .

I've spent the last week thinking about two people in particular, old friends I haven't seen in a long time. One is Miriam, and I was thinking about her because I wanted to ask her for about her Pesach cleaning crew, and the other is Petruska, a friend from school who I hadn't seen in quite a while.

As I ride my bike to school at least twice a week (okay, ride to the train station, then to the bus stop, then to my bike locker), I wanted a land route for when class runs long on a weekday night. That means a street route to the Union Station from CSULA. Making a long story short, that meant a trip to the Automobile Club of Southern California, or AAA.

As a member, I get free maps and all kinds of discount services. But they moved, and I didn't know that when I showed up in the parking lot of their last place of resident. Who should be in the parking lot also? Miriam. Got the low down on her cleaning crew, and drove away amazed at how Providence had put us two together in so unlikely a place. And she knew the address of the current AAA office.

Petruksa, on the other hand, is a CSULA student I met riding the bus, and since we saw each other often last year, I was just wondering how she was doing. But I didn't have to wonder very long, because there she was last Wednesday, getting on my bus to campus. I was sure she had forgotten me, but alas, she had not.

Chalk it up to the power of positive thinking, but these two people came into my life again because I wanted them to. Kinda creepy, but very cool. Thank you G-d. You rule. Obviously.