Stephen
may have been the reason that I finished with no problem. Maybe not the only reason. Since we had three things listed in the
previous paragraph, let's see if I can list three reasons. For symmetry.
One is Stephen. He kept me
talking all through the Walk and lifted my spirits, which took my mind off of
the discomfort.
Two is
the scenery. The Walk circumnavigated
the Stockton Channel Promenade, and with the fine weather the view was
nice. Third is the fact that I was
pretty close to ready to walk that far.
I've walked slightly more than two miles two or three times in the two
months before the race. No, I didn't
walk the exact distance of the race, but I had a long weekend and the Wednesday
before the race off, so I was nice and rested.
I was pretty much ready.
There was
stiffness after the Walk, and the muscles that hadn't been used much back when
I was limping and not walking much started to complain at about the end of the
first block. That would be in the back
of my calves (the right one especially) and the back muscles just above, or at
the top of, my butt. But then they
loosened up a bit and only grumbled a bit from then on in.
Come to
think of it, I was never winded or even near it. That's cool.
And, really, the calves and muscles around the knee were almost as
grumpy while standing around in the cold before the Event.
During
the Event, I got to see the area in Weber Point and around the promenade again
for the first time in awhile. I used to
walk the area fairly regularly, back when I was on the Water Quality Project,
which wasn't about water quality. But
never mind that for now. There were a
couple of new memorial statues on the northern promenade, between City Hall and
the old Visitor's Center, now closed. I
don't know what's in that little building now.
There
were new artsy benches at the end of the southern promenade, near Morelli Park,
under I-5. I almost didn't look up and
see the cool mobiles on the poles in the landscaping near them. Stephen saw them, though, and exclaimed.
The big
raft of water hyacinth in the souther fork of the downtown end of the channel
is starting to blacken, I presume due to the cold. The guys with the contract with the City to
remove trash from the water took a shot at removing the floating plants, but I
assume they concluded that it was outside of the scope of the contract. They were at it for days before they gave
up. I'm guessing the City is waiting to
see if the raft will eventually float back out if they mumble about being out
of money long enough.
It
probably will. This isn't the first raft
that's wandered down the channel from the San Joaquin River. I got to tell Stephen all about the channel's
history with water hyacinth and its history with algae overgrowth. I didn't get too technical with the algae
explanation because most people aren't interested. But I told him that the Water Quality Project
did an experiment to produce the background information needed to design a
system to keep the algae mats from forming during the summer. And I told him that those lines of disturbed
water indicated the location of the bubbler system that was eventually designed
with the information we collected.
His
appreciation of the color of the fall leaves gave me an opening to talk about
my time at GMI and the road trips to Frankenmuth for chicken dinners. He asked and I confirmed that California
didn't do Fall Color! the way that the states in the northeast of the country
do. There were other reminiscences about
the GM coop college in Michigan and some talk of the SATs and the Campbell
Strong Interest Inventory.
He talked
about writing and wanting to do YouTube videos and he asked if I was interested
in fewer topics of study now that I'm older.
That answer was pretty much no.
It would be harder to go in a new career-type direction, but I'm still
pretty much interested in a boatload of things.
I offered
to copy the turkey-plastered logo of next year's Event t-shirt, re-draw it as
zombie turkeys, print it on iron-on paper, and iron it on a look-alike
shirt. Dear Son and Devoted Girlfriend
said that wasn't possible. The shirts
only come out a few days before the event.
I think I should take that as a challenge. Provided I remember it this time next
year. If I have the day before
Thanksgiving off again, that's plenty of time.
Provided I'm mentally ready for it.
But, you
know. Mind like a steel sieve. (Stephen says he's started to use the
phrase. Heh.)
On the
way back to the car, Stephen was checking out people's porches. He said he was writing a story with a homeless
person who lived under someone's porch.
I told him to ask Dear Son, who used to sneak away from the summer
recreation program at the park and go hang out with the panhandlers. Son S-2 did as well. He's the one who told the the stories of it
later, when he was safely grown. I just
assumed that Dear Son was along with him.
He confirmed that as true when we got back to the car.
In the
car, I talked about Dr.P, who introduced himself to one of the homeless guys
that he was always driving past. The guy
said that the reason he was homeless was that he had an IQ of 152. He was too intelligent to buy into the
bullshit that the world expected you to buy to get along, but he wasn't
intelligent enough to transcend the bullshit.
P came
home and told his wife the story, seriously considering that that might be an
accurate statement. She said it was
bullshit because 152 was her IQ and she had never had trouble finding a job and
keeping it.
I wrote the above at the dinner table after the Thanksgiving dinner plates had been cleared away at Devoted Girlfriend’s family’s place. Dear Son was writing beside me. One of Her cousins-in-law twitted him for using an ipad with a keyboard attached. We were both sitting together writing along with the same basic equipment, but he was a younger guy, and a guy could give him a hard time and I’m an older woman that the family doesn’t know that well yet. So I just typed along and DS got to twit him back.
Pie is better.
No comments:
Post a Comment