Do you have a conversation that you run through your head when things are not going your way? Not terrible in a terminal diagnoses way, or the loss of a loved one way, but more in the medium or minor issues way? Like when you get a speeding ticket, or your computer crashes, or you have to pick up the kids from school and the car won't start, or you have locked yourself out of the house. Or better yet, when your computer crashes, the car won't start and you have locked yourself out of the house? When it is that kind of confluence, nothing life and death and nothing ending just a major wrench in the plans, expectations gone awry and/or irritating inconveniences, what do you say to yourself?
I generally go into some internal cursing, then a good dose of self pitying, and when I am beginning to feel myself worked up, I begin to say to myself: "I have a privileged life. Nothing is so terrible that I should be feeling sorry for myself. I then number my limbs. All accounted for. Take stock of my blessings: a job, a home, a car, food, family, friends, loved ones and a sabbatical. I then turn to chastizing myself harder, which generally lifts me out of the glum abyss--for 10 minutes or so. Embarrassingly, I find myself liking to repeat the minor injustices I have encountered.
So before I begin my litany there are many things I am grateful for in this moment. I do have a privileged life. I have all of those things I mentioned and more. My sabbatical has presented many exciting opportunities including some twists and changes, including interesting social justice work and the opportunity to be a key-note speaker for the Human Rights Campaign in Minneapolis. One of the programs I planned to work on in Israel has been postponed beyond my sabbatical so that has made me think about other pursuits. And on a personal note, I have been able to continue dating an incredible guy who I met this fall in Atlanta and who has moved to Hawaii: Brian. (Ahh, you say, now Hawaii makes a little more sense.) So all in all, good stuff. Much to be grateful for. But I suppose the balance has to tip.
I even had an incredible trip from Atlanta to Denver. Stopping each day to explore interesting aspects of Americana was a blast. Listening to books on tape; I highly recommend A Spot of Bother. In Lousiana, I visited an alligator farm and exotic zoo. In Texas, I stopped and had a haircut at a good ole barber shop where people bantered about sports, hunting, the rodeo and the good for nothing sheriff who expected a free haircut. It was called the Lone Star Barbershop. This was followed by a workout at the "Aloha Gym: A little bit of Hawaii in East Texas" where I met the native Hawaiian family who owned the gym. They explained they left because the cost of living had become exorbinant and in Texas they were able to afford much more. The owner raised and trained game cocks and had won a major cock fight and he took the massive winnings and bought a gym. I also visited my friend Oscar who used to attend CBH in Dallas. In Oklahoma, which was surprisingly beautiful to me, I visited this creepily deserted state park that I was certain if I had come at night--one of many serial killers a la Leatherface (Texas Chainsaw Massacre) would have been waiting. I took a brief hike to some spectacular falls, but the deserted castle like struggle which had weeds growing through it was eerie as were all the empty concessions. The 7 year old playing in the stream without any parental supervision was also bizarre. I asked where his parents were, but he looked at me and ran away. I did not follow, after all I have seen enough horror movies to know where that was headed. Luckily dad came out of the Mirror Art craft store and called his son back in yelling he had told him to stay away from the stream. Alas, I stopped in Kansas to see the largest Prairie Dog in the world, but I have yet to lay eyes on him since it was closed.
Arriving in Denver is where my patience has been put to the test. Yes, I have chosen to spend part of my sabbatical in the only place that global warming has ignored. Boston and New York in the 70s. Denver has had more snow than most people can ever remember. So, driving my low to the ground car, I wondered if I should just fly and rent a car despite the immense expense. Folks in Denver told me it would be melted by the time I arrived. HA! it snowed again while I was on the way and the old snow never melted and it is PILED HIGH. So meeting with halting traffic when I came tinto the city was not upsetting but the inability for me to get into the driveway of the condo I am renting and trying to find parking for over an hour and a half. Schlepping my things several blocks through the ice was not fun. Still there was an excitement. I arrived at the condo building and from the outside it looked a little dreary. I went inside and saw that the access is through a rusty, chipped paint fire escape stairs and I think well it will be nice on the inside. I opened the door and though it is smaller than I thought it would be, it looked cute. However, I was a bit distracted by the potent smell of animal. Dead animal. No doubt there is a dead mouse or rat in here. I have opened the windows, lit candles and still the smell is there. After searching for a rodent carcass, I decide to unpack and there is very little closet space and no dresser. Hmm. Determined to keep my best outlook, I thought a bit of television would be a good distraction. The TV didn't work work. Ok, not the end of the world. These are all material things, well the smell isn't. That has to be fixed.
Then today. Altitude sickness. I have drank so much water (that is what is recomended) that I have been debating just putting a catheter in or break down and wear some Depends so I don't have to look for a bathroom every 5 minutes. Probably hitting the gym was not the best idea. Also, the three times I have gotten stuck in the ice has been infuriating and scary including tonight at 10:30 when my car skidded at a dangerous angle while parking. It was sticking out in the street so I couldn't leave it. I had to shovel the ice for an hour to no avail. Even with all my limbs accounted for, I thought I was going to go mad. Freezing and using a dented shovel, I felt like Sisyphus with his rolling stone. Determined to keep my sanity, I just kept whacking at the ice with the shovel until it was bent and mangled and I would straighten it out and try to make progress.
At about half an hour in a guy offered to push. He did and nothing. No movement. Then a second guy came after an hour and he helped me a shovel a bit and then called his girlfriend to put her foot on the gas while we both pushed. She came out of the condo in scrubs, no coat and she was pregnant. I didn't want her helping in case the car hit another car or skid. But they insisted it would be fine. And after a good ten minutes of pushing, we finally did it. Needless to say I parked in a much clearer area even though it was several blocks away from the house.
Blance DuBois was right to rely on the kindness of strangers. To be on the receiving end of such an act restores the balance of goodness and faith in the world. I was amazed at Joe's determination to see me out of the bind I was in and I was a total stranger. Things aren't so bad. It isn't an adventure without tension and challenges. Right? right?!
Adter all of that I wonder if he can do anything about the stink in this condo?
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