I Run for Boston

As many of you know, I run in the mornings before work--but only in the spring and summer when it's warm and light enough outside. Today, I rolled over to look at the clock. Crap--I forgot to turn my alarm on! I should have already been out there. I jumped out of bed, threw on my running clothes (which I always set out the night before), brushed my teeth, and flew out the door. Because I'm motivated: I run for Boston. I run for Martin, and Krystle, and the Chinese grad student. I run for the 170 injured people whose lives will never be the same, many of whom now have bodies that will forever bear the scars of what the worst of human nature is capable of doing. I run for the thousands who were denied their dream of finishing that race because I know there is no feeling quite like crossing the finish line of a marathon. I run for everyone who set out for a day of celebration and had it turn into a tragedy no one will ever forget. I run because I never want the bad guys to win. So I forgot to turn my alarm clock on and might have been a little late for work, but I ran for Boston.

An $8 Cup of Foam

As per my yearly tradition, I went to the Angels home opener last night. They raised ticket prices, so it was nowhere near a sell out, and they didn't even announce attendance. I was happy to see that parking and beer prices were the same as last year. Still too expensive, but way better than any other local sports venue. There was just one problem, other than the fact that we lost: I didn't think it was possible to make the concession stand experience any more painful than it was--but they have succeeded! I ordered a beer. That's it--one beer. Shouldn't be that hard. The girl held the cup upright, directly under the tap. Anyone who has ever drank a beer, poured a beer, or watched a beer being poured knows that this particular technique will succeed only in filling the cup with foam. Her first try, the glass was 3/4 foam. She set it aside and collected my money. Then she tried again. This time it was 1/2 foam. AND SHE HANDED IT TO ME!!!!!! $7.75 for a cup of foam??? I was incredulous!! I said "You seriously aren't going to give it to me like that, are you?" She didn't really say anything, but I knew the answer was yes. Maybe she thought the foam turns into beer once it settles. And we all know that doesn't happen. So, I start to explain to her how to pour a beer: 'hold the cup against the tap at an angle'. At that point, another worker obviously overheard me, came up and showed her how to do it. And I finally got a full cup of beer! I would think they would train new employees on how to work the equipment PRIOR to opening night, but I guess that's not the way it works at Angel Stadium. On our 2nd foray to the concession stand, they were out of hot dogs. Really?? It's a baseball game, for God's sake! Who runs out of hot dogs at a baseball game? At least I got a full beer that time!

Meditation Class

I finally signed up for a meditation course. I've been wanting to try it for a while now, and a new class was offered through my city's recreation program. Like most people who do meditation, I was looking for peace, stillness, purpose. The first session was last night. Jessie, the instructor, was very welcoming--she hugged everyone! We started with 20 minutes of easy yoga. Then we closed our eyes, focused on our breathing, and allowed her to guide us through our practice. She has a soothing voice, uses a lot of positive reinforcement, and gave us various ways to focus on the internal and block out the stresses of daily life. It was so relaxing! I don't think I have ever sat that still for that long! If I'm at home, I get up about every 2 minutes--I'm always thinking of something else that I need to do. If I'm at work, I cross my legs back and forth about every 30 seconds. To sit still and completely relax for 45 minutes was amazing! I can't wait for next week's session.

The 'Good Guy' with the Gun

I was a waitress in a pizza place during the summers when I was in college. I became friends with my co-workers, particularily with a sister and brother who worked there. Their brother used to come in for free pizza, as would mine--don't tell the boss! Their brother, like me, was a sophomore in college. He was looking forward to going back to school as he was going to be an RA that year. He loved his college, as I loved mine, and we both couldn't wait to get back to our "other" lives at school. Anyhow, we all became friends and used to hang out when we weren't working. We had a lot of fun together. I'll never forget the phone call one morning from the boss asking if I could come in to work. My co-workers were scheduled to work but were at the hospital with their brother, my friend. He had gone out dancing the night before--his favorite thing to do. On the way home he stopped at a bar where his buddy was a bartender. Near closing time, a robber came into the bar demanding the money in the cash register. The 'good guy' with a gun, an off-duty cop, pulled out his pistol and started shooting. My friend was caught in the crossfire. He wasn't killed, but that 19-year old who loved to dance was paralyzed for life. If the 'good guy with a gun' hadn't been in that bar, the terrified employees would have emptied the cash register for the robber. It's likely the bad guy would have taken the money and run. If the 'good guy with a gun' hadn't been in that bar, my friend might still be dancing today. A 'good guy' with a gun is simply another person with a gun.

Doing Nothing Won't Solve Anything

Columbine, Jonesboro, Blacksburg, Tucson, Aurora, Oak Creek, Clackamas, Newtown. We can no longer call these “isolated incidents.” This, unfortunately, has become a way of life. A way that must be changed now, before it happens again. For me, what makes it worse are all the people who think everyone should be armed. Are you insane? More guns equal more murders. People say if the ‘good guys’ have guns, they’ll stop the ‘bad guys.’ When I was in college, I had a summer job at a restaurant. My co-workers’ brother would come in every so often for free food (don’t tell the boss!) We were all around the same age and became friends. He was in a bar one night when a robber came in. The “good guy”, an off-duty cop, pulled out his gun and started firing. My friend was caught in the crossfire. He wasn’t killed, but that 19-year old who loved to go out dancing, was paralyzed from the waist down. The robber only wanted money. If that “good guy” didn’t have a gun, my friend would probably still be dancing today. When our founding fathers wrote the 2nd Amendment, the world was a vastly different place. Those men could no more imagine school shootings or automatic weapons than they could imagine cell phones or computers. Laws must evolve as life evolves. What worked 200 years ago, doesn’t work today. Automatic weapons, semi-automatic weapons, extended clips---none of those things had been invented when the 2nd Amendment was written. The only purpose of automatic weapons is to kill people, and to kill a lot of them in a short amount of time. There is no place in a civilized society for these types of weapons. They must be banned. Guns should be harder to obtain, and the laws need to be more uniform from state to state. If you want a gun for a legitimate purpose, if your hobby is target shooting or hunting, you should be OK with better regulation—because you don’t want the “bad guys” to ruin your right to own a firearm. I wanted to volunteer at a FanFest event when the MLB All-Star game came to Southern California a few years ago. I had to submit to a background check—just to volunteer my time. Buying a gun should be harder than volunteering for community service. I know people say there will always be criminals and crazies and bad guys. Sure, there will be, but doing nothing doesn’t solve anything. We have to try. We take off our shoes and put our shampoo in a plastic baggie in order to board a plane. Is that a perfect solution? No, it’s not—but we did something. We tried. We can be better. We must change our reality in the memory of 20 first graders, 6 teachers, 12 moviegoers, 6 constituents, 2 Christmas shoppers, 6 Sikhs and 32 college students. For all of us.

Grateful for others

Lately, especially over the past year, we've all seen the psycho-babble about finding something to be grateful for each day. I usually think "Gee, isn't that nice?" with a sneer on my face. I'm more the type who wallows in self-pity. I'm smart enough to know that I'm better off than literally billions of others on this planet in terms of health, finances, housing, food, hell--just about everything. I know that, but sometimes it's hard to remember, like these last 72 hours. I had a productive day planned on Saturday. I managed to get only the first thing done when my car just turned off WHILE I WAS DRIVING!!! I could have been killed! Fortunately, gratefully, I was near the entrance to a parking lot and was able to push the car to a relatively safe spot with the help of 2 strangers who jumped out of their cars and ran over to help me. Got a tow to my mechanic and they ordered a part for replacement the next day. Because the car started at that point, they sent me on my way. Too afraid to drive the rest of the day, I stayed home and did laundry. Still terrified to drive back to my mechanic on Sunday, my friend Willie followed me to make sure I'd make it there, then dropped me off at my Brownsbackers bar so I could watch football. After the game, my friend Becky picked me up from the bar and took me to pick up my car. I'm grateful to have friends who took time out of their weekend to help me out. I was still apprehensive about driving the car, but I made it through the weekend. On the way to work Monday, the 'check engine' light came on, so I was back at my mechanic for the 3rd day in a row. They assumed the light came on because it was improperly reset during the repairs. I managed to get just one more errand done when the car stopped in the middle of traffic again. But now, I wasn't near a parking lot and I had on high heels. The car behind me pulled into the next lane and left, but fortunately, gratefully, the guy behind him pulled over to help push my car. Then a girl in another car put her emergency flashers on, jumped out of her car, and helped him push while I steered to a safe side street. I called my mechanic, and after a little while my car started, so I drove back there, shaking the whole way. The manager, who I've known forever, figured out the problem. He hadn't been there on Sunday, and he made a nasty phone call to the guy who was there and made the mistake. And they are paying for the rental car I now have while they fix my car tomorrow. For me, it always seems to be a bad situation that makes me grateful for others, because none of us can get through this life alone. I'm grateful for the goodness and kindness in others--friends and strangers who go out of their way for someone else. That's what it's all about.

Paying to Pee

Bathrooms in Italy are a challenge for Americans. You have to figure out if the flusher is a wall-mount flat panel, a pushbutton, or a foot lever. The flat panel flushers are easy. The push buttons can be really hard. Thank God I'm flexible enough to put my foot 3 feet up on the wall to push the damn thing in--one was way too hard to push with just my hand. Same issue with the sinks. How do you turn on the faucet? Some have sensors, some have knobs, some have foot levers. It's a game to figure out which it is and we spent a lot of time looking around every bathroom we were in. Then the big issue: paying to pee. What a racket! We want to open public pay toilets in the US. Most toilets cost .50 to 1 Euro. It's not cheap! There were a few places without attendants and one where we could squeeze past the turnstile--what a bargain! We were happy on those occasions when we got a free pee.