Urban Legend

We were walking Lucy down a nice, middle class neighborhood street yesterday when a beat up van with tinted windows pulled up beside us. Inside were a sketchy-looking couple in their thirties. She was driving; he rolled down the window; she leaned over and called to us. "Have you seen our puppies? They got out, and they're missing!"

"That's terrible!" Heidi replied. "But no, we haven't seen them. Sorry."

The van rolled slowly away.

"Oh my gosh!" I said. "They need another approach! I totally thought they were going to offer us candy and ask us to get in and help them look!" 

Intersection

Worlds collide here at the Mayo.

I stood at a 7th floor window looking down on the weekly summer festival that they have every Thursday here in Rochester. An hour before, Heidi, my mom, and I been down there, sitting at a cafe table in the shade of a high rise enjoying lobster rolls, rotisserie chicken and fish tacos. The main stage was below me, and the canopies and carts stretched beyond my sight, but I knew the arts and crafts and henna and CBD and dog fashion and popcorn and giant cookies and fine food and beverages were offered along three blocks, ending in a whole other stage.

Two women in colorful head scarfs chatted on a bench. Five folks on scooters (Lyme just rolled them out here last week) rolled up to a raised garden and parked along the circle right outside the Gonda Building 2nd street entrance. A young couple, both colorfully tattooed, pushed a patient in a wheel chair toward the elevator. To my right, I caught the strains of a conversation I couldn't ignore: Ashley has the championship pig! a woman told the man in the ball cap sitting next to her in a plush leather chair.

The diversity was staggering. And yet? I knew we were are all drawn there by human need.

Just then, Heidi and my mom returned from the ladies room and we headed to the elevator.

Change of Venue

We spent the afternoon cleaning-- and I kind of liked it. There's something very manageable about maintaining a new and relatively empty space, such as the condo we are renting here in Rochester. Heidi and my mom did the bathrooms while I vacuumed, then they dusted and wiped the counters while I shook out the small area rugs and mopped the floors. In no time we were relaxing in our tidy tree-top apartment, and I, personally, was wondering why the same jobs seem just so onerous at home.

Mayo on the Side

If you have to spend your day at the doctors, the Mayo Clinic is certainly the place to be. In addition to being US News's number one health care facility in the nation, it is beautiful, comfortable, and full of kind and helpful people. In addition to upscale office furnishings, spacious waiting rooms are also outfitted with leather arm chairs, recliners, and tables and chairs. The views from many of the spaces are expansive; the city of Rochester spreads grandly below the high rise windows. Oh, and the art? World class-- my mom and I just happened to pass a series of five floor to ceiling lithographs by Joan Miro on our way to a lab appointment this afternoon.

Even so, a day there is still a day floating like a leaf down the unpredictable river of health care. After waiting for 2 hours in the most comfortable chairs with a most amazing view, we were finally led back to an exam room, where we waited at least 45 minutes longer. So long in fact that my mom had to use the restroom. Returning through the stark white maze behind the curtain, she lost her way and had to ask for direction at the desk. "We're in room 222 in case you need to know," she reported upon her return.

"Room 222?" I exclaimed. "Like the show!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Heidi said.

"What?" I replied. "Mr. Dixon? Karen Valentine?"

She shook her head.

Since I had already completed the sudoku, cryptogram, jumble, and crossword puzzle, and no medical personnel were beating down our door, I googled the show and found a full episode. As the theme music played, I automatically hummed along. "Here comes Mr. Dixon in his convertible!" I said as Lloyd Haines parked his cool orange car in the Whitman High lot.

Over the next few minutes I was wowed by how progressive the show was for 50 years ago. Created by James L. Brooks (his next gig would be The Mary Tyler Moore Show), it was idealized to be sure, but it presented a diverse high school with a diverse staff, and the protagonist was an African American man who I remember loving when I was a kid. It was humorous, but not laugh out loud funny.

How did we even watch this show? I wondered, and the answer was right on Wikipedia-- it aired on Friday night, right after The Brady Bunch and The Partridge Family.

And yet, no endless reruns in syndication? But before I could ponder that mystery of popular culture, the doctor appeared at last.

Mama Bear

We were on our way home from the dog park when all heck broke out the car. "Something's wrong with Lucy!" Heidi cried. "She won't settle! I think it's a... BUG!"

Heidi hates bugs.

"What kind of bug?" I asked.

"I don't know! I can't see it! It's there though! I think it bit her!" Panic was rising in Heidi's voice.

"Should I pull over?" I asked, scanning the road for turn-offs and seeing none.

"It's some kind of fly!" Heidi reported.

"A deerfly?" There was one on our windshield when we left the park, and I had felt lucky we hadn't seen any before that. "Is it small and arrow-shaped?"

"That's it!" Heidi said. "It's trying to get her!"

"Swat at it so it doesn't land on her until I can find a place to stop," I advised.

"Oh my god!" Heidi gasped. "I GOT IT!"

Yes! With one mighty smack, Heidi had rescued Lucy from the evil deerfly.

"When it comes to saving my baby," she continued, "I don't play!"

Proper Introduction

If you had asked me two years ago what I thought of self-driving cars, I would have scoffed loudly and likely proclaimed both my distrust and lack of need for such technology. Certainly, my age and driving experience combined to influence my opinion that there was something wrong with trusting a machine to do a human's job.

But about 18 months ago we replaced our 2010 car with a 2018 touring model with all the bells and whistles. Among the safety features? Lane guides and smart cruise control which actually steer the car and hit the brakes whenever the car wavers or gets too close to an obstacle in the front or the rear. All of those things, along with the automatic lights and high beams, are adjustable and voluntary for the driver to use, but...

...after a year and a half and several long road trips, I've discovered that using them makes driving not only easier, but way more consistent and therefore more efficient. (And, this is just a hunch, safer.)

Oh, I'm aware that these features are also probably meant to be a gateway to self-driving cars, but if they are? Consider me hooked!

Mother Knows

"We met your neighbor in the workout room!" I told my mom this afternoon. "He lives right down the hall, and he's on your board."

"Richard," my mother confirmed, and then she cocked her head. "But he must have spoken to you first, right?"

"Yeah!" I shrugged.

What? She couldn't imagine me striking up a conversation with a total stranger?

How well she knows me!