Monthly Archives: September 2015

Charleston

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Charleston

It’s been almost two weeks since I returned from Charleston, SC. I so needed to get away, and Charleston was the perfect escape. It’s a great walking city. And, jogging in the city proved to be perfect. It’s surrounded by water with stunning homes in the interior. So running the streets, the parks, and up and down the historic district in the unseasonably cool days, was therapeutic for my mind, body and soul. As an extremely slow runner, I had a chance to take in the sites, and I drank them in for thee and half days.

When I wasn’t walking or jogging, I was enjoying the wonderful cuisine or napping. Both felt simply indulgent. It was all great for a vacation. The restaurants take pride in their food and it shows. I enjoyed new southern cuisine, fresh seafood, and traditional fare. From fine dining to easy cafes, the servers and staff were friendly, but not overly solicitous. It was so easy to dine alone. And being alone gave me time to refresh and restore.

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On one of my longest days, I ran by the Ashley and Cooper Rivers in the morning and walked to and from the Arthur Ravenel, Jr. Bridge, going over it’s 2 ½ mile expanse coming and then again when returning. There were a lot of walkers and joggers, so I surmised it’s a popular track.

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Later the same day, weary from being on my feet, I went to the pool for a quick swim. I found the water too cold, so I merely soaked my feet and ankles. It was wonderful. Sitting on Chaises was a lovely couple from Lititz, PA, in the Pennsylvania Dutch country, Trish & Gerry Link. Our family is big fans of Wilbur Buds, wonderful chocolate drops from the Wilbur Candy factory in Lititz. It’s a small world.

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We spoke as the sun set. And, we shared our experiences on our short vacations. They had walked on the bridge their first day in Charleston, while I took a walking tour of the Historic District that day. They were kind enough to send me some pictures of their time in Charleston and the Bridge pictures are courtesy of Jerry.

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It was good to get away. I had burned out and this short, yet essential vacation was invaluable. I know it’s a luxury, not only to go to Charleston, but to do so with a teen daughter, husband and dog at home. However this trip allowed me to regroup and refresh to start anew. I’m happy to be home. Being away really does make the heart grow fonder.

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Delayed Flight

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I’m at La Guardia’s newly refurbished Delta Terminal. I’m on my way to Charleston. Everyone says what a great town it is. I look forward to getting there, but with the rain, the short runways, and delays, I’m at an iPod café ordering a dinner that will be a stark contrast to the wonderful cuisine to be had in Charleston.

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This is a wonderful people watching opportunity, and if I would look up from my laptop I might enjoy the many fellow travelers in my midst. We have any number of head coverings. The guy furiously texting has a grey cap turned with the lid to the back. The woman across from him is wearing a black burka. Across the aisle is a business woman with a pair of sunglasses she’s wearing as a band, It’s been raining all day and it’s dark out now. But I assume she must have her reasons . A tall fellow with a salt & pepper beard is sporting a yamaka, while carrying his fancy black hat. A bald gentleman is reflecting the fluorescent light coming from above. There’s a pair of shiny red earphones on another bald man, though he purposely shaved his head. It wasn’t an accident of fate.   One man with a kind smile has his long hair tied back in what looks like a large bun. No hat for him.

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It’s nice to travel in the middle of the week. Mostly people are calm, unlike the many family trips we took President’s Week, when families act out loud voices, agitated, and not shy to display their bad moods. Needless to say their children are misbehaved. But none of that tonight. For that I am grateful, and I’m willing to let the hours go by while I wait for our plane to show up.

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I’m at the airport to go on a solo vacation. I wasn’t stressed when the delays came because I’m making up the trip as I go along. I did get stressed when they changed the delay from 10:30 PM to 8:06 and it was after 6 PM, and I was still home with no cars available for another 30 minutes or so. I did get a yellow taxi, silently thanking Uber for my good fortune in the rain. Pre-Uber I never would have been able to snag a cab. And then after a long wait on the FDR drive, we made it to the RFK Bridge. I wasn’t aware that I was holding my breath until I received another text saying the flight was postponed until 8:30. I could finally unclench my jaw and breath a sigh of relief. Since the cab ride, it was delayed twice more. This after the back and forth in the afternoon. It feels like working with a really erratic patient on the Psych ER telling me, “We’re being invaded by aliens.” No, I mean Romanians. No Wait, I mean a covert ops organization with our government. No wait…” All I know is to stay alert and listen for what’s next. And, what’s next is a smooth night flight, non-stop to Charlston.

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A Six-Year Old State of Mind

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When I entered the first grade at Stafford Elementary there were too many students for the two classrooms. I was assigned to an extra class, which was temporarily located in the southeast corner of the all-purpose auditorium, the exact location where they display the book sale in the Spring. The teacher, a mean spirited woman, whose name escapes me, derived her sense of power by placing me in the corner.

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I would laugh uncontrollably with Robin Reed, a beautiful, tall girl with large green eyes. We would just look at each other and start laughing. However, my laugh, for reasons unknown to me would set off the teacher. And, I alone would have to sit in the corner, having been shamed in front of my classmates. I thought this completely unfair. As a six-year-old fairness meant a great deal to me. Why was I sent to the corner, and Robin could stay at her desk learning how Dick and Jane were getting on? My back was to the class so I’d miss the lessons and get behind. One unfairness on top of another. Perhaps it was this experience that wed me to proper rules. This fabricated black & white idealism.

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Today I was in Central Park on a run. I was going the way of traffic, far on my right on the Bridle Path. I like the soft earth under my New Balance even though I always end up with small stones and sand that has to be emptied. It was late morning, and with the heat there weren’t many runners out. And, yet, from time to time a runner would come at me on my lone path, on their wrong side of the path. I get mad at them. I hold my ground running along, certain of my right to be where I am. But I am filled with righteousness, and a touch of malice.

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Since I run because it gives me pleasure, my holier-than-thou attitude does not lend itself to enjoyment. In fact, I allow those unwitting runners to get in the way of my satisfaction. So, I started to ask myself where these thoughts may have originated. And first grade came to mind. My idea of what’s correct and fair was compromised. I held onto my notion of right and wrong as a defense. It’s time to let it go. I needn’t think mean thoughts for runners who are going where they want to go. There is room enough for all of us. Well, I’m not quite there yet. But I’ll work on it with each subsequent run.

Addendum:

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After a month of torture from that First grade teacher, the class got moved to the old art room, and Mrs. Schlosberg became our teacher for the rest of the school year. She was kind, and thoroughly supportive. I even won a poster of Cambell’s Soup as an outstanding student award. It was a great redemptive prize. I will always be grateful to her. And in the end, first grade worked out. I made it to second, and so on.