My local postmaster has a tan

I had it all rehearsed. Walk to meet the mail guy in his truck, and offer my condolences for what he does day after day in this awful weather. Then feel like I've helped my fellow human being with a dollop of decent empathy.

But noooo..he has a tan, I mean, a really nice tan like the kind you get in Aruba or Barbados, all uniformly medium brown, the kind of tan you want to save, like it's liquid warmth.

Dashed, and disappointed, I had an attack of upper middle class self-righteous behavior: if my MAILMAN has a tan, why don't I?

Because, my fellow pale lovelies, I spent big kays on a wonderful winter weekend in New York City, celebrating my 60th birthday. Wouldn't trade that for 5 days in the sun, no way.

But, and here comes the attack, I should be able to have BOTH. Whenever I want or need a vacation, I SHOULD be able to go, at least, to Florida. Trick is, Florida and anywhere south this year is over $700 in air fare. Okay, this is turning into a complaint.

Instead, I will check the Web ONE MORE TIME for something, anything. Forecast for this evening is 1-3 inches of snow.

Dwarfism. I mean no respect to the many individuals who are genetic dwarfs, when I say that I can so easily feel dwarfed. What's It Gonna Take to stand tall, against odds?

Take yesterday. Read a great deal about Rwanda's efforts toward unity and reconciliation, which are huge, driving, and successful. How can my little project really help all that much? What if it undermines the good work of that Commission? It might be laughed off, when I finally get an audience with the major players in the government. It may be totally off the wall, and stupid.

You see the language I use? SO WHAT if the project is finally rejected? At least I gave it a shot.

Then, glutton for pushinment, I read about the scions of academics who have written and published about these weighty matters. I don't even have an academic appointment. SO WHAT??? Why should I feel small when I'm proposing a project that isn't even going to compensate me very well, except for my travel and expenses.

You see how I let myself feel small and insignificant.....So, how to stand tall and feel big?

Think of this Rwanda project as play, not work. Then I can apply these standards: do I enjoy it? Is it hurting anyone? Do others like playing with me? Does it bring me joy? So what, if it comes to nothing, the way play comes to nothing, except an exercise in joy and creativity?

I'm back jogging. Where did these little hills and dips come from on our main street. I never noticed them before. Or is it that my 60 year-old body must make more adjustments this season? To run up the tiny hill, it takes just a TAD more effort to lift my legs out of the hip sockets hips and push off. To coast down the itsy hill, I have to strain SLIGHTLY more to suck in the ole gut. I also notice that I run more deliberately, forcing my left foot to stop pronating, lifting my knees when the pavement gets uneven. This is a nod to my age, and my fear of falling again like I did in the Fall, on wet rocks in the woods. I'm adjusting to some new reality.

The word 'adjustments' offends me somehow. Adjustments bring to mind things like naps, walkers, canes. To counter these adjustments, I run farther than I should, since I'm just returning to my season. I barrel down long concrete sidewalks, stepping around waiting bus riders and hopping over glassy patches of ice. At the crosswalks, I run in place impatiently. It's a deliciously cold, sunny, windless morning. I carve out a new route, and relish measuring the miles later, in the car. I have the air, my legs have the muscle, and my spirits rise knowing I can run another season, do another race, inch into another age category.

Sunday Night at the Movies

Highly recommend the HBO series, "John Adams." It began tonight.



Is it because I'm 60 that I attached myself to these images of our nation's founding. I'm all like chills and wows over the scenes of Jefferson, Franklin, Adams, Washington. Flashes of remembering the Declaration of Independence we had to memorize for US History Class. Tickled at the idea of Benjamin Franklin re-writing it on the spot, in a spare room, with a quill pen.

Must be the whole Obama magic, plus the thrill of watching Rwanda turn into a Republic. Or--how about this--the parallel development going on with myself, as I declare myself independent of sibling obligations, at least within my family of origin.

"Let these truths be self-evident: That older sisters are entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, and are not duty-bound to take care of younger adult brothers who have somehow lost their way.

Also recommend Gabriela Montera a pianist who does incredible improvisations upon classical music, like Pacabel, and Bach Variations. You...will....die....

But not before you swoon over this music.