A true story from my life or a metaphor for something?
I was walking through the park blocks when I realized that I lock my knee slightly with each step as I kick my leg forward and that this was easy to correct by straightening my leg slightly less and shortening my stride a bit.
I discovered that by walking this way I walked much more quickly and that though my stride was shorter my hips rotated a bit more.
I almost cruised past a skinny old guy with big black chunky glasses and a familiar grey suit jacket and slightly crumpled but insanely sharp slate blue oxford with the top couple buttons undone. Curly grey and black hair gelled almost straight up making him look somewhat like Mark Mothersbaugh.
He was sitting with some well-groomed college kid to his right. He wrote some book I haven't read and can't recall the name of well enough to google -- it's something about how you can have fun in jail.
I almost kept walking but he held up a green lighter lit and waived me over. "Hey man, I remember you, you wrote something right? I've been trying to track down a copy..."
"Sit, sit sit. Hold steady. Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"Just hold steady, lets get ready, just hold steady."
"I'm not sure what you're asking for..."
"For real? No bullshit? Just relax, just hold steady and we'll get ready..." He was holding half a rollie in one hand and the lighter in the other. He was lit but he didn't smell like liquor. He kept rubbing his nose. The kid sitting on the other side of him started to get antsy.
"Hey, are you ever going to light that cigarette? I need my lighter back." He got up and stood in front of me and the dude. "Well, are you going to light it?" He shoved his hands inside his expensive windbreaker and shifted from foot to foot while the dude squinted at him.
"Maybe . . ." dude held the lighter out to the kid ". . .I'll light it." He went as if to light it. "Naaaaaaaaaw."
"Can I have my lighter?"
"I guess you can."
The kid leaves without his lighter and Mothersbaugh's brother says to me "well, are you ready?"
"Ready as I can ever be."
"Good, lets meditate." He put his hands on his legs symmetric and straightened his back and closed his eyes.
"OK" I said and did the same.
He got up and laid in the grass nearby and I meditated there for a while before he came back a few minutes later.
"We did it we did it we did it!" He was very happy, he hugged me and toppled over sending both of us tumbling into a planter. "We meditated, we meditated we did it! This is so great! WE DID IT!!" He started drumming on my back and I responded in kind.
He hit me in the face playfully "POOOM" he said. I shoved him over the wall of the planter. We laid in the planter laughing for some time.
"Lets fight!" he shouted. We milled around like boxers poking at each other and flailing our hands. He tagged me in the ribs. I shot a ball of imaginary chi at him and he stumbled accordingly. "Lets really fight" he said.
"You win this time." I walked away.
2 replies
I discovered that by walking this way I walked much more quickly and that though my stride was shorter my hips rotated a bit more.
I almost cruised past a skinny old guy with big black chunky glasses and a familiar grey suit jacket and slightly crumpled but insanely sharp slate blue oxford with the top couple buttons undone. Curly grey and black hair gelled almost straight up making him look somewhat like Mark Mothersbaugh.
He was sitting with some well-groomed college kid to his right. He wrote some book I haven't read and can't recall the name of well enough to google -- it's something about how you can have fun in jail.
I almost kept walking but he held up a green lighter lit and waived me over. "Hey man, I remember you, you wrote something right? I've been trying to track down a copy..."
"Sit, sit sit. Hold steady. Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?"
"Just hold steady, lets get ready, just hold steady."
"I'm not sure what you're asking for..."
"For real? No bullshit? Just relax, just hold steady and we'll get ready..." He was holding half a rollie in one hand and the lighter in the other. He was lit but he didn't smell like liquor. He kept rubbing his nose. The kid sitting on the other side of him started to get antsy.
"Hey, are you ever going to light that cigarette? I need my lighter back." He got up and stood in front of me and the dude. "Well, are you going to light it?" He shoved his hands inside his expensive windbreaker and shifted from foot to foot while the dude squinted at him.
"Maybe . . ." dude held the lighter out to the kid ". . .I'll light it." He went as if to light it. "Naaaaaaaaaw."
"Can I have my lighter?"
"I guess you can."
The kid leaves without his lighter and Mothersbaugh's brother says to me "well, are you ready?"
"Ready as I can ever be."
"Good, lets meditate." He put his hands on his legs symmetric and straightened his back and closed his eyes.
"OK" I said and did the same.
He got up and laid in the grass nearby and I meditated there for a while before he came back a few minutes later.
"We did it we did it we did it!" He was very happy, he hugged me and toppled over sending both of us tumbling into a planter. "We meditated, we meditated we did it! This is so great! WE DID IT!!" He started drumming on my back and I responded in kind.
He hit me in the face playfully "POOOM" he said. I shoved him over the wall of the planter. We laid in the planter laughing for some time.
"Lets fight!" he shouted. We milled around like boxers poking at each other and flailing our hands. He tagged me in the ribs. I shot a ball of imaginary chi at him and he stumbled accordingly. "Lets really fight" he said.
"You win this time." I walked away.