A Fake Idea and Booze

Miz S. has a bunch of sassy commenters over at her place. Somehow she writes a little post and next thing you know, there’s this running stream of back and forth chatter, much of it very funny. On her blog, people get so excited in their typing they occasionally make typos. MsCellania was commenting that she didn’t like to give cash gifts to high school graduates because they just run out and get "a fake idea and booze." Maybe she meant to type that; either way, it struck me as very funny. Miz Mary’s good friend Jane told her that now that she has an empty nest she’s "f-ing old". With friends like that…I just love this neighborhood of buddies. I’m worried that if I slip away while transitioning back to Chicago so will my friends here, but I know that’s not true. Just my own insecurity typing. In reality, I feel pretty connected to my fellow bloggers, even my lurker in Burdur, Turkey.

Guys_3
You want to feel f-ing old? Go to a triathlon. I biked down to watch the St. Anthony’s triathlon here in St. Petersburg this morning and while it wasn’t quite as exotic as the Maui one each year, it was fun. Lots of great looking man buns, as Susan puts it. Susan, this picture is for you and you can click it for a closer view if you want.

Bill_2

I’m actually more impressed with the old geezers (people even older than me) who swim in the ocean 1.5k, bike 40k and then run 10k, some in less than 2 and a half hours. Some of the very nice people I’ve met in yoga this winter compete in these events and one of them, William Riley, is a Grand Master triathlete at the age of 71.

Today, I kept his wife Debbie company and took pictures while he ran. She wasn’t competing because she broke her back in a road race a few weeks ago, so she’s wheelchair bound into the summer. What these people do is a real inspiration and as I stand there and watch, I think, okay! I’m going to start training and do this next year. Then I rode my bike back home- it was actually the second round trip because I came home midway for another CF card, hoping that I could bike 6k faster than Bill Riley could run 10k so I could snap him at the finish line- and I was exhausted, so now I’m no longer inspired. I’m on the sofa wondering if there’s enough cash around here for a fake idea and some booze.

Not really. I signed up for the National Marrow Donors Program with a plan to swap my fat little cheeks for DNA. (Okay, that typo is too good to correct. See what I mean?). I actually felt good after I signed up, not just for the obvious reasons. I had to fill out a questionnaire to see if I qualified as a donor and I discovered I’m neither too old nor plagued with illness or medications nor guilty of dangerous debauchery. (Did you hear that Babette is watching Feist on YouTube in her spare time these days? So much for fishvision.)

I’ve mentioned my young friend who is waiting now for a transplant; her whole life depends on it. She’s just a starter person, with incredible potential and attitude, so I’m hoping and praying she gets a good match. Right now, it’s looking like a cord blood match from France is her best bet. She marveled in her care pages that, once her entire immune system is destroyed by chemo and she gets a cord blood transplant, she will be like an infant and have to start all over again with immunizations. She donated her hair before it could fall out so I asked her if she wondered about who would be wearing it and whether they would pick up Louise vibes and she said she did. You could sign up to be a donor if you wanted…

When I used to go through customs in Mexico they had this totally random system where you slapped a button (ala deal or no deal?) and it turned up mostly green but sometimes red. I used to be paralyzed with fear that I’d flash red and have to have my luggage inspected, despite the fact that I never had anything more interesting than circular knitting needles and binoculars in my bag. Who knew? Maybe someone slipped a baggie of crack in my bag back there by the Koala Changing Station at the Family Restroom. Now I’m worried that by turning my DNA over to a national DNA bank  "MATCH" will be flashing on a CSI screen somewhere.

Sigh. I’ve been a) out in the sun too long and/or b) cutting and pasting photos and text too much. Also, Rich is gone and so, as mentioned previously, I’m a little at loose ends. By the way, I’m kinda worried he’s going to be, ah, distressed when he sees the pile of stuff he needs to put in the car and drive back to Chicago. He’s suffering under the illusion that we brought everything down here and dropped it off so now he’ll just have the cats. Hah! Tomorrow, I’ll show you what he has to load up.

Call your mother, run a triathlon or get a fake idea- and enjoy the remainder of the weekend.

16 responses to “A Fake Idea and Booze

  1. You’re doing it again…. this exploding post thing. I can’t get caught up…. this is destroying my self-esteem (;))… no that is not my double chin.

    I want to curl up under …. well, under something… not sure what. Just something. This is what happens when there is too much pressure and too many things to do…. I want to curl up and hibernate. Perhaps this is why I like winter so much, less guilt about hibernating.

    There is always more “stuff” than expected. Do you pack a car better than he does… I mean can you get more in than he does? Then, perhaps you should pack it for him… maybe not.

  2. I L O V E D this post. My son went to check out the triathlon too and my step-daughter is going to be in one in June in Tucson, I actually get tired just reading about what they do let alone try to do something myself. I moved a whole load of mulch yesterday from the trailer to my garden and whew boy am I sore. Is 57 too old to be doing this stuff…wait I just read about a 71yr. old triathlon participant, drat I am not too old.
    Thanks for the wonderful work posting the Good Planets photos. It was fun to see them all. I am heading down to St. Petersburg mid-May but methinks it will be too late to visit you.
    Ciao,

  3. You’re kidding, right? Because you should know all your faithful readers will be stalking your blog during your transition–just waiting for an update. And, um, email. Skype. Snail-mail. We won’t lose you.

    But we could make a plan, if it would make you feel better. Like the ones you make when you go into a crazy busy place like Disneyland, “If we get separated, stand right where you are and start singing Dixie at the top of your lungs! I’m sure to find you that way.”

    As for Babette and Youtube–you boomers really scare me. 😀

  4. Can I swap my chubby cheeks for DNA too?

    I’m not allowed to donate much of anything, even though I’m listed as a donor on my DL. I lived in London for two years during the Mad Cow scare, so the Red Cross won’t take ANY blood, marrow, cells, or fluid from me. Too bad, really.

  5. I am too old to need a fake idea-ha ha. I just need any ideas in this old brain of mine. I used to want to train for something, but now I’m content if I just get to go for a run or get any exercise. I am not as ambitious as I once was. (or am I lazy?)

  6. The nephew of an old friend of mine just went through that cord blood transplant thing after a suitable marrow donor couldn’t be found – he’s doing well, but it’s a long road for such a little boy. His problem with finding a donor was his heritage; he’s half Puerto Rican and half American Indian – apparently a difficult combination to match.

  7. Your fake ideas are better than most people’s real ones. And, though you may not be a triathlete, it’s hard enough to keep up with your interesting and generous life as it is!

    Setu Bandha Sarvangasana (Bridge Pose) for the derriere!

    Mushaboom(ers)! What’s wrong with Feist? I shed my schoolmarm image on the weekends. Also, I did back-to-back 90 minute hot power yoga classes on Saturday so there was:

    A little shift
    Get my drift?

  8. That I got. You’re hot.

  9. Vicki, I have had way too many fake ideas…..LOL

    If you don’t post while you are in transition to the north, we will stalk you!

  10. Thanks for the man buns…someone pass the butter?

    I may just have to do that donor questionnaire. To help save someone’s life…that would be the best thing a person can do.

  11. I’m impressed with those old geezers, too. But I also like the photo of the young and virile set. Bike shorts are a beautiful thing.

  12. If I didn’t have fake ideas, I would have no ideas at all. I just don’t get drunk, and I find life much easier to live that way. I’m always stopping by here looking for a new post. Don’t worry one bit if you have to take few days off. We’ll all be here waiting expectantly.

  13. Best wishes to your friend awaiting a transplant.

    Oh, and, mmmm, man buns.

  14. OK, I had to go check out Miz S and Plain Jane, and they are totally blogrolled now…

  15. Babette, there’s a very nice video performance by Feist solo on KCRW, here:

    http://kcrw.com/smil/mb050621Feist.ram

    (requires Realplayer).

  16. Thanks, Phil. Morning becomes eclectic, indeed. Seattle radio rocks!

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