Labor Day Resolution
Almost a year ago my friend Joslyn posted a blog about the 35 things she wanted to do before turning 35. Since I was staring down a milestone birthday I came up with my own list. Without divulging my age, let me just say my list was the 40 things I wanted to do before I turned .... 29.
When my birthday rolled around in June I had accomplished ... wait for it ... one thing on my list - get a dog.
In retrospect I'm not sure getting a dog was the BEST decision I've ever made. I mean, Tag the Dog is harmless, but it's kind of like cutting your hair short and dying it blonde. Occasionally you go "What the hell was I thinking?" And then, other days, you fancy your blonde bob.
So, after a spontaneous and disorderly summer during which I spent (wasted is more like it) a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, I decided to kick start the fall with one resolution: walk.
You see, Tag the Dog has been sorely under-exercised this summer, what with the heat and our schedules and my penchant for laziness. So I decided I would get up one hour before everyone else (and if you know me, this is a huge sacrifice) and walk the dog. I got some new walking shoes, created a snappy playlist on my iPod and targeted Monday as our first walking date.
Tag and I were up and out the door on time. My iPod wasn't working but then again, I didn't really feel like listening to thumping workout music at that hour. We headed down the hill, past the golf course. Birds were singing, sprinklers were misting, it was a perfect 75 degrees.
About that time I noticed a young, shirtless kid walking toward me. Unlike me he wasn't out for a morning walk. It looked more like he never went to bed. I crossed the street. He turned and followed. I HATE being that type of person, but I began to worry. Although I was walking in a neighborhood, it was early in the morning, few people were out, and Tag the Dog wouldn't be any help unless he could nuzzle an attacker to the ground.
So I sped up and changed course to walk back to the golf course. Since it was Labor Day, I figured there might be a lot of golfers trying to get an early tee time. I walked up to a woman unpacking her clubs in the parking lot and as she turned and greeted Tag, almost like we knew each other, I asked her if I talk to her for a bit until the young man passed. She said of course. But he didn't pass. He circled the parking lot.
She and I continued to chat. She once had a golden retriever like Tag. She and her sister were from South Dallas and golfed there every Thursday. Her sister arrived on cue and they offered to drive Tag and me home.
So while my walk was cut short I was on the receiving end of the best kind of samaritanism - the spontaneous gesture of someone who saw an opportunity to help and did so, without expecting anything in return. We didn't even exchange names, but I like my story better that way.
And so, that said, what's the moral of the story?
I should've stayed in bed.
When my birthday rolled around in June I had accomplished ... wait for it ... one thing on my list - get a dog.
In retrospect I'm not sure getting a dog was the BEST decision I've ever made. I mean, Tag the Dog is harmless, but it's kind of like cutting your hair short and dying it blonde. Occasionally you go "What the hell was I thinking?" And then, other days, you fancy your blonde bob.
So, after a spontaneous and disorderly summer during which I spent (wasted is more like it) a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, I decided to kick start the fall with one resolution: walk.
You see, Tag the Dog has been sorely under-exercised this summer, what with the heat and our schedules and my penchant for laziness. So I decided I would get up one hour before everyone else (and if you know me, this is a huge sacrifice) and walk the dog. I got some new walking shoes, created a snappy playlist on my iPod and targeted Monday as our first walking date.
Tag and I were up and out the door on time. My iPod wasn't working but then again, I didn't really feel like listening to thumping workout music at that hour. We headed down the hill, past the golf course. Birds were singing, sprinklers were misting, it was a perfect 75 degrees.
About that time I noticed a young, shirtless kid walking toward me. Unlike me he wasn't out for a morning walk. It looked more like he never went to bed. I crossed the street. He turned and followed. I HATE being that type of person, but I began to worry. Although I was walking in a neighborhood, it was early in the morning, few people were out, and Tag the Dog wouldn't be any help unless he could nuzzle an attacker to the ground.
So I sped up and changed course to walk back to the golf course. Since it was Labor Day, I figured there might be a lot of golfers trying to get an early tee time. I walked up to a woman unpacking her clubs in the parking lot and as she turned and greeted Tag, almost like we knew each other, I asked her if I talk to her for a bit until the young man passed. She said of course. But he didn't pass. He circled the parking lot.
She and I continued to chat. She once had a golden retriever like Tag. She and her sister were from South Dallas and golfed there every Thursday. Her sister arrived on cue and they offered to drive Tag and me home.
So while my walk was cut short I was on the receiving end of the best kind of samaritanism - the spontaneous gesture of someone who saw an opportunity to help and did so, without expecting anything in return. We didn't even exchange names, but I like my story better that way.
And so, that said, what's the moral of the story?
I should've stayed in bed.
posted by Romine Family at 10:28 AM
<< Home