From the Actual Trip:
1. When we ate out in Florida with Jerry’s relatives and his cousin Richard asked what we wear when we’re not on the bikes, and we looked down and back up and said … “This!”
2. When our room at the Marriott in Fredericksburg was freezing and we kept amping up the heat and talking about calling maintenance, and Jerry at last figured out that the people before us must have opened a window and it had been open all night, when it dipped to the high 20s.
2. When the little boy ran into his yard to watch us bike past, then stood stalk still, mouth wide open, head cocked at an angle. As if we were aliens landing in his yard in a glossy red space ship.
3. When I asked the Ferry worker what the charge would be for two people and their bicycles and he said, “It’s free, unless you’re Catholic, in which case it’s a half hour of your life that you’ll never get back.”
From Before, But Recalled While Riding, To My Great Amusement:
1. When our friend Gary was riding his recumbant bicycle up a big hill, and a woman pulled up alongside him in her car – clearly thinking his bike had something to do with a disibility – and said, You have such courage!
2. When my South African friend Taryn gave me her take on the imposter who signed Obama’s speech at Nelson Mandela’s funeral: Secret service and various security agencies crawling everywhere, speaking into little microphones, watching the crowd for ANY sign of a problem, and the man – a convicted murderer! – stands THIS close (pokes me in the shoulder) to the President of the United States, inventing hand gestures!
3. When friend and fellow piano student of Carol Hewitt, Cindy Broadfoot, got up to play, clearly not having had time to write up the background of her piece’s composer to share with the group (something we’re expected to do before our informal recitals, but often don’t do – being busy adults with jobs and responsibilities), and said: My piece is by Beethoven. I couldn’t find anything on him.
Keys To The Kingdom, 2014 