My Pollyanna Nature

Yesterday I had a mishap in the street and suffered excruciating pain. Last night, mentally processing the event, my attitude changed: I became grateful at what happened. My innate Pollyanna nature kicked in. If you're curious about this mystery, read on.

Some context is necessary. I can see but have drastic limitations. For example I have no peripheral vision. If I look straight ahead I can't see what's below on the ground. 

I also have high metabolism. Living in New York accelerate that trait. I walk fast, talk fast and drove fast. After my vision loss I deliberately slowed down my pace which is helpful: it gives me more time to avoid trouble.

When I'm in public by myself I walk slowly and scan the ground for obstacles. Usually that works. Mishaps I've had have something in common: they occur when I'm hurrying. When rushing my eyes move up to see where I'm going. Unfortunately that means they aren't seeing what's on the ground. My vision doesn't include both views.

Yesterday I was walking home from Starbucks on a busy commercial road. I was crossing an intersection with no traffic signal. Halfway across a car came speeding around the corner, driving very fast. I hurried to get out of its way. I made to the other side -- but didn't notice a curb there. Moving at a runner's pace, my foot hit the curb and my entire body went airborne. Literally. Flying through the air I had enough time to think, "Well, this is new. I've never experienced this before. I wonder what will happen next?" Then, BAM! My body crashed to the ground. It felt like I'd fallen out of a plane. I landed on my hands and knees with such force it was like having a heavy person strapped to my back instead of a 20 lb. backpack.

The impact stunned me. I landed on very rough concrete so my palms and knees were ripped and bloody. My body swelled up instantly and I couldn't move. I laid on the ground for 10-15 minutes before I could move anything. In addition to pain I noticed my right arm is badly sprained; I can't rotate it.

During the time I writhed in pain on a busy street you may wonder if anyone stopped to help. No, they did not. There is no community left in modern America. Dozens of cars passed by without assisting. I finally summoned my strength, got up and staggered a half-mile home. Bleeding and worried about my arm.

Later in the day I thought about the incident and my mood shifted. I became grateful. Why? I'm glad the fall didn't injure me worse.

Every day I do pushups, planks and lift free weights. My arms and upper torso are strong, especially for my age. When I hit the ground it was like doing a massive pushup: my body moved downward while my arms and chest pushed upward. It was instinct to protect my head. Fortunately no part of my head hit the ground. If I didn't have upper-body strength my head would have smacked into the concrete, causing at least a concussion and bloody facial wounds. And possibly worse. 

Two years ago a friend and I were walking in Savannah when we saw an elderly woman trip and fall. She hit her head on the sidewalk and was dazed and bleeding. We rushed to her aid. I used my handkerchief to stop the bleeding. We tried to calm her but she was so dazed as to be incoherent. Obviously she was badly injured from the head-blow. A few minutes later her adult-daughter came running up and took over. She assured us they would be fine as she helped her mother stagger home. She declined our repeated offers for more assistance.

My perspective on yesterday is that my diminished vision may make mishaps possible but my overall good health will enable me to survive them. These injuries will heal and I'll get back to normal life. Normal for me, that is. :)

Archaeology

I subscribe to Archaeology magazine. It and its subject are fascinating. From the new issue:

A Swiss archaeologist spent 50 years looking for the famed Sanctuary of Artemis in Greece. He recently discovered it and the site turns out to be an entire ancient village. The search, as he describes it, was like "a Hollywood movie" with unexpected twists. Ancient goddess Artemis is believed to be intimately connected to women and girls with artifacts showing that.

Have you ever heard of "wooly dogs"? They were raised -- and worshiped -- in the Pacific Northwest for thousands of years. Sometimes believed to possess human spirits the dogs were pampered and their fur was spun into yarn for clothing. Wooly dogs look similar to today's Alaskan Eskimo dogs.

Finally, research has been done on very old human activity (40-80,000 years ago). The questions: when did we start wearing clothes? And why? Scholars conclude eyed-needles were invented to make closer-fitting clothing necessitated by climate change. The head researcher says, "It was all driven by the need for underwear." Ha!

Wedding Anniversary

23 years ago I stood at the altar with my hand on Robin's back. Her spine was vibrating like an old Harley. I didn't expect her to be nervous at our wedding but the shaking was palpable.

We celebrated our anniversary this weekend with a panoply of activities planned for the occasion. Saturday we drove out to the North Fork and sat in Adirondack chairs at Lavender By The Bay, a 30-acre lavender farm. The scented air was lovely to breathe and we brought home many lavender products. Then, like many other travelers, we walked around Greenport, a fun place to shop and lounge. You never lose sight of the water from Main Street and are amused by many attractions like an antique carousel and working blacksmith. We capped the day with dinner at historic Cooperage Inn.

Sunday we attended a rousing performance of musical theater: the stage version of "Legally Blonde." The estimable talent was Broadway-caliber. Humorous musical numbers were belted out with brio. (E.g., "Is He Gay Or European?") We capped off the second day with another delicious meal, this time at Rockin Fish in Northport. Cherry hard cider and Buffalo-sauced oysters were big hits.

The years since August 19, 2001 have passed in a flash. You have to smell the flowers of your life while they're still in bloom.

Questions Invited

A decade ago I interviewed several bloggers on my blog. I asked them a range of questions tailored to their interests. The resulting posts were fun and informative.

I've lived a long time, during which I've acquired much experience and knowledge. I enjoy sharing that wisdom with people. If anyone wants to ask me questions about anything, I'm game. We can do it here or on your blog. Among possible questions are:

- What brings fulfillment in life?

- What is a good hobby for an adult?

- What's it like to ride a motorcycle?

- What's it feel like to go 140 mph on a motorcycle?

- How do you build a successful business?

- How and when should you retire?

- How can we accumulate wealth?

- What is art and why does it matter?

- What's it like to be transgender?

- How do you cope with a life-changing disability?

Etc.! If interested, e-mail me at fhu@pipeline.com.

 

Funny Tweet

 

I'm best man at my buddy's second wedding... Is it appropriate to open my dinner speech with
"Welcome back everyone"

— 💂🏻‍♀️👋🏻вєαя🍻🇬🇧™ (@BigBearF1) August 12, 2024

"Kleo"

"Kleo" (Netflix) ist eine unterhaltsame Fernsehserie über eine Auftragsmörderin in Deutschland während der Wiedervereinigung. Sie inspiriert mich dazu, meine Deutschkenntnisse aufzufrischen.

["Kleo" (Netflix) is a fun television show about a female assassin in Germany during reunification. It's inspiring me to brush up on my German speaking skills.]

Dinner At Sammy's

Have you ever had an ethnic experience? It can be both different and delightful.

On Wednesday we were taken to the most Jewish restaurant in New York. Located on the Lower East Side, the restaurant -- Sammy's Roumanian Steakhouse -- opened 50 years ago and has been serving traditional Jewish cuisine to happy crowds ever since. 

Sammy's offers chopped liver, stuffed cabbage, potato latkes, fried Kreplach, skirt steak, rugalach, and condiment jars filled with schmaltz (chicken fat). We ate "family-style" with giant platters shared among the nine of us. Jewish food is naturally heavy; it's been said that Sammy’s "helped put more than a few cardiologists’ kids through college." Comedian Alan King joked, "Whenever I go to Sammy's Roumanian restaurant, I make two reservations: one at Sammy's and one at Lenox Hill Hospital."

The atmosphere here is bursting with life. Never have I been to such a boisterous place. Festive diners jumped up several times and danced in a circle holding hands. "A night at Sammy’s feels like a Lynchian bar mitzvah."

Creating that atmosphere is Dani Luv (Lubnitski), a Borscht-Belt style lounge singer and comedian. Born and raised in Israel, Dani whirls like Don Rickles, insulting patrons to their faces. He sings bawdy songs and tells off-color jokes, all with a Jewish twist. A sign on stage reads, "The Mohel and I both work on tips." (Mohels perform religious circumcisions.)

Dani performed Jewish versions of popular songs like the famous Beatles tune, "Hey, Jew." At one point Dani asked if there were any Gentiles in the house. A few hands went up. "This is for you" and he sang: "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jesus was a Jew!" 

Later in the evening Dani picked me out and made fun of my glasses: he called me "a Jewish Harry Potter." For the rest of the night my relatives kept referring to me as "Uncle Harry."

Facilitating raucous fun is the restaurant's bottle-service: you order bottles of vodka or tequila and they arrive encased in solid blocks of ice. We got both liquors and, for the first time in a long time, I got plastered. The celebratory mood encouraged me to follow each cold shot with another until finally my inhibitions took a train to New Jersey.

Lenny Bruce once said "It doesn’t matter if you’re a Christian; if you live in New York, you’re Jewish.” I certainly felt that way at Sammy's.