In The Park

“What’s that up in the tree – that orange thing?”

“I don’t know, maybe a dog toy?”

“I think I’ll shimmy up the tree and find out.”

Emily stared at me in disbelief. “Lori, I’m the first to promote your various talents, but I dare say that I don’t think shimmying is one of them.”

I thought for a moment. “Okay, then, I think I’ll find a four-leaf clover…”

Happy Birthday, Santo!

Today Amy and Al became proud parents of Santo. From her birthday book, Tricia gleaned this: “Santo, You are The Day of the Great Leap! Your strengths are Daring, Intense and Visionary!”

Welcome to this world, Baby Santo!

Busy As A Bee, Bee, Bee

Do we really need mascots for the Oakland Airport Construction project? Apparently so, as BuzzBee and BeaBee have been selected as the only brother-sister mascot team in America.

Home of the Whopper

“For here or to go?” As Tricia and I began to say, “To go” Emily had already told the order taker, “For here.” We looked at her questioningly. The one inconsistency in Tricia’s otherwise flawless character is that she loves Burger King. Absolutely adores it, craves it, can’t get enough of it. And since it was her birthday celebration, she got to choose where we would eat. So here we were, at Burger King, in a somewhat questionable area of town. “Are you sure?” we tested Emily. “Yeah, we don’t want it to get cold on the way home. Let’s eat it here, while it’s hot.” For some reason neither Tricia or I wanted to blurt out the politically incorrect, “But it’s dirty here. There are homeless people circling. There are drug dealers right outside the door, ready to peddle their wares.” Instead we nonchalantly shrugged our shoulders and headed to a table.

As we ate our double cheeseburgers and chicken whoppers, still steaming hot, a dazed woman swooped over our table, veering somewhat uncontrollably. With a glazed look in her eyes, she muttered, “Sorry, ladies, sorry,” and swooped away. We continued our conversation. Another woman approached us, “Ladies, ladies,” she slurred. She held out flowers, in a motion to sell them to us. “We’re not interested, but thanks,” Emily offered. “No, no, no, listen to me. Listen to me NOW!” as she came precariously close to our faces. “We really don’t want anything, thanks,” Emily tried again. “I ain’t trying to sell you anything. I… I… I…” she looked at the bouquet in her hand. “I… I want to tell you a joke!” Emily tried again, firmly saying, “We’re trying to have a conversation, we really don’t want to hear a joke.” She huffed away, beginning a tirade that got louder and louder the longer it went on. “I just wanted to tell you a JOKE! You would ‘ave laughed. Yeah. No! No, you wouldn’t ‘ave. You’re probably too stupid to even laugh at my joke. You’re too stupid and too ugly. Yeah. Real ugly. I used to be a yuppie too. But I wasn’t an ugly yuppie. I wasn’t a bitch. You’re all ugly and stupid. STUPID.”

Tricia glanced up. “Two words. Take out.”

Bliss

There are days when I think I will implode from too much happiness. Absolute, continuous moments of perfection. Today was one of those days. I awoke in a bedroom awash in a warm blush, sunlight warming the room. I began the day with a bike ride to Ocean Beach, the relish of feeling my legs burn as I cycled up hills augmented by the delight of the strong ocean winds, blowing briskly across my warm body. Lunch at the Beach Chalet, enjoying tender, flaky crab cakes and a freshly brewed local beer. Biking through Golden Gate Park, watching parents teaching their children to ride their first bikes, gazing at lindy-hoppers swinging to Big Band sounds in the old bandshell, listening to impromptu jazz sessions filling the tunnels with haunting, soulful tunes. Meeting Tricia and Emily to see Cedric’s performance. Listening, in awe, at new compositions of I Can See Clearly Now, Autumn Leaves, and my favorite, Just The Two of Us. Still humming as I made my way back home, in utter disbelief as I scored a primo parking spot within the first four minutes of searching. A perfect day.

TaTa!

Recently at work we have been inundated with emails from Indian companies offering e-learning assistance. I’m not sure what list we got on, but it’s a widely circulated one.

Each time we receive one of these emails, my director forwards it to me and asks me to check it out. So I spend a few minutes reviewing websites, looking at previous clients, previous projects, and then usually fire off a “no, thanks” letter.

The most entertaining company so far, though, is this one.

On their web site, they list not only the expected mission statement, but also a locomotion statement and values statement.

Mission: to help change the way the world learns.

Locomotion: we march on two legs: our systems and our creativity.

Values: we go deep. we spark each other. we never give up.

Locomotion statement? That’s a new one. Maybe I need a locomotion statement…

Super Tuesday!

Today’s the day! Emily held her traditional “Rock the Vote!” party last night where everyone picked an issue on the ballot and presented pros and cons. Discussion ensued around some very important issues, some more clear than others. I’m on the way to the ballot box now – what a great way to start the day!

Next Stop, ?????

I thought I was well-traveled, but when you view it this way, I haven’t even begun to see the world. Hmmm… where to next?

create your own visited country map

or write about it on the open travel guide

Thanks to Jeff for this link. Try it yourself here.

February 29th

“Oh, all-a night long, pretty woman-a pick me up,” bemoaned the cabbie.

“Oh, really?” I bemused.

“Yes-a. Just look a you. In my cab. I’ll say yes, you know.”

I was slightly taken aback. Yes to what? What question was he expecting me to ask? What question was he waiting to say yes to?

“It’s-a leap year today, you know? Just-a barely, but a leap year. February 29th. Extra day.”

“So it is.” I glanced at my watch. We were barely 1 hour into this special extra day that only comes once every four years.

“You-a know what that means, right?”

Well, I know what spring forward, fall back implies. Either one more or one less hour of sleep. But February 29th? Besides an extra day? No. I didn’t.

“It’s-a your day, sweetie. You-a get to ask any-a man to marry you. And look where you are. In my cab. And I-a happen to be-a single. It’s your-a lucky day. I could be your first, you know…”

I guffawed. For some reason, when a 60-something year old, silver haired taxi driver uses these lines on me, it’s not offensive, but endearing.

“Keep the change. And happy February 29th. May you receive multiple marriage offers tonight…”

Urban Legend

The scaffolding caught my eye. Or rather, the two workers, each on different levels. Scruffy young men, tough, skull caps protecting their shaved heads from the bitter cold.

The one of the lower platform needed the rope. He hollered to the one above. The one above grabbed the rope, began to throw it, then pulled it tight to him, teasing the one below. Instead of getting upset, the one below dropped to his knees, in a princely manner, beckoning for the rope. The one above pulled the roped to his heart, batted his eyes, then unrolled the rope in a Rapunsel-esque motion. Chivalry lives.