Tuesday 200 — #80
My new manny gig is great. The boys were a handful at first, but boundary testing’s to be expected. Especially with 8-year-olds whose penchant for storytelling has caused parental distrust.
The after-school crew were on great form last Thursday, tossing frisbee and playing tag. I reckoned the boys’ popularity came from a combination of their Texas accents and the novelty of being identical twins.
I was chatting with the Connaught Square pram squad — the usual mixture of moms, nannies, and multi-cultural munchkins. The VIPs had moved in several months ago, so nobody gave a second thought to heightened security. Then Travis (or maybe Tyler … that mole on Ty’s neck is the only way to distinguish them) offended one of the Muslim girls. Shouting, shoving, and tears ensued.
Not being able to get a straight answer during their time-out, I pointed to Chez Blair’s machine gun toters.
“Know what they do?”
They looked at each other then shook their heads.
“They shoot mean boys. That horrible looking one on the left? His son’s in Iraq. He blames your President.” A salute to my Met buddies was dutifully returned. “You want to make them mad?”
Fear works.
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May 5, 2008
Balancing the Junk
Larry wanted to go for a run today, so I decided to join him. We're a good balance on the running thing, especially on longer runs. I usually push him a little further than he'd normally go and he usually slows me down just enough so I don't over-do and enjoy the workout. And, since he's gonna be away on business all week, so it's good to catch some together time when you can.
However, today wasn't about the long run, just a get-out-and-exercise day. No particular goals in mind, neither distance nor time.
I guess that's what those who live in runner world call junk miles. So I set the iPod Nike+ gadget to basic (because the Virgo in me needs to record the junk as well as the goal-oriented workouts — miles are miles are miles) and off we ran.
I did not realize our new place was within such easy access of the canal (and you can just stop with the "he said easy-access-canal" sniggering). It's literally less than a ten-minute walk north. Nor did I realize that today was the canal cavalcade, which was in fact a charming festival, but not very conducive to running.
But we weren't in it for speed, so there's nothing wrong with a little walking, right?
After the crowds thinned out, we made it up to Ladbrook Grove and then jogged around till we hit Portobello Road, where we ended up having a lovely stroll. We turned onto Westbourne Grove, where we found three new restaurants (Taqueria, Bloody French, and Harlem) we want to try. And bonus — we didn't realize there was a branch of Bodean's (it's London, everything's a chain) in that neighborhood as well.
So yeah, we went slowly. Just under five miles in about an hour and a quarter.
And despite it being a quote-unquote junk run, we had a perfectly delightful afternoon.
So what's your point, Bob?
My point is simple — on the one hand, little goals are good. But, once again, having no expectations led to a surprisingly enjoyable time. And now that we're running again, we can afford to eat all that non-healthy food we found.
It's all about the balance.
May 3, 2008
Ah, Comedy Leadership
People seems to be all upset we have a new cartoon mayor named Boris. I can't wait for Natasha to show up. And just think ... I might be able to marry a dog soon.
Argh.
Yeah yeah yeah, change is good. But this is kind of a joke, right?
All will be fine, I reckon. After all, I come from a country where a buffoon has been president for the past eight years and, if the Democrats don't consolidate their feces, will be led by an animatronic passed-his-sell-date chipmunk.
And then there's my hometown, a city where Jerry Springer was mayor. But that was before he was Jerry Springer — just some bloke who got busted for using prostitutes because he paid them with personal checks. 'Cause you know, if you're going to do something illegal, you might as well leave a paper trail.
Oh, wait. He did that before he was mayor and Cincinnatians elected him anyway.
Voters are smart.
Now then, where did I put those dog biscuits.