Passing the baton....

...without even knowing it.

That's my topic today. It has nothing to do with The Idiot.

I was sitting at home one evening...it was getting close to dinner time. Meaning that my daughter was repeatedly asking for dinner and I was trying to put it off for a little while in order to avoid the pre-bedtime snack situation I often find myself in these days.

My doorbell rang. I peeked out the window to see who it was.

It was a young girl (by young, I mean early 20s) with a clipboard. Feeling grumbly, I opened the door - assuming it was one of those magazine pitches. She said hello and I immediately told her it was dinner time and not a good time for a sales pitch.

She apologized and asked if she could come back another time. My skepticism must have been blatant as I hesitated to answer. She quickly added, "I'm canvassing for NARAL - pro-choice...." with a questioning, yet somehow hopeful, look on her face.

I looked at her. Really for the first time. She was young and healthy - dressed as I did when I was younger. A nubby wool hat, jeans and boots....vest and scarf. She was fresh-faced and natural...with long, curly hair. She could have been me 15 years ago.

I stepped out onto the porch and listened to her schpeal. Her co-canvasser joined us shortly and we discussed politics and I ended up writing a check...as I had known I would when she told me she was with NARAL.

I said good-bye and good luck and went back inside. Feeling about 150 years old.

I was remembering a time when I did things like they were doing....when I had passion and belief that I could change the world.

When I didn't know that life could hit you in the face like a brick wall. When I never wondered if I'd ever have energy again...because I always had it. When I could (almost) live on tips as a waitress and just pull a 'double' if I needed to pay a bill. When I could debate politics all night long - and not get depressed about it. When the world was my oyster.

So I got a bit maudlin about it.

But then - something happened. I realized that my years of thinking that since I no longer did the canvassing or the protesting...it just wasn't happening...was wrong. I know....how closed off was my thinking? It's as if that whole world was out of sight thus out of mind. As if it never existed.

I realized that the world really isn't that different than it was for me 15 years ago. There are still those young people with passion and belief that they can change the world. And probably, when they grow older and move to the next stage, there will be more young people with that same passion and belief that they can change the world.

I hope one of them will be my daughter.

And just like that, my passion and belief that I can change the world was restored.

Lost (on the) Highway

I flew home from Phoenix yesterday - or rather last night. I was anxious to get home and see my little one. I'd been up since 6 AM. I hate flying. I was hungry. My bags were heavy. I was exhausted.

I think you're getting an idea of my mood.

Anyway - I walked the 100 miles to "Ground Transportation" and got in a cab. The driver was Somalian. As they usually are here. I don't care who drives my cab - as long as I get home.

"Where to?" He asks.

"50 -- (Street Name)," I answer.

"15--?" He clarifies.

"No. 50 - Five - Zero," I respond.

"Ahhh. 15--," he repeats.

"No....FIVE-ZERO - Not ONE-FIVE," I reply.

"Ahhh. OK," he answers.

I don't feel too confident at this point. But what's my alternative?

He drives and drives - a different way than they usually go - but who knows...maybe it's cheaper.

As we pass my exit off the highway - as in drive right by it - I ask where he's going. He repeats my address - I think. Then he tells me it's past downtown. Which it isn't.

I tell him no it's not and, in fact, he is passing it as we speak. He disagrees. I think. I tell him to get off at the next exit. Instructions he questions.....to the point that he has to swerve across 3 lanes of traffic to take the exit. I tell him to go left off the exit. He does. We've probably gone about 3 miles out of the way at this point. On what should have been about a 10 mile trip.

Next I tell him to go left at the next light. He stays in the right lane and turns on his right blinker.

"Left at the light," I say. He nods.

"Your other left," I say. He nods again.

As he turns right.

"STOP," I say. He pulls into a gas station. I point in the correct direction and tell him to go that way.

This whole time I'm trying really hard not to be bitchy....you know...so he doesn't think I have some unfounded bias against him driving a taxi in America.

He gets us turned in the right direction but has to stop every half-block to ask me "is dis it?"

Finally - we make it to my block (5 blocks from where he turned around) and he speeds by my house.

At which point I shout "STOP HERE!"

He did. The fare read $21.14. I tossed $23 on the front seat as I was getting out. I know I paid for him getting lost but I usually tip more. Whatever - I'm home.

He comes around and tells me that, in fact, the fare is $24.64. There's apparently a $3.50 charge for coming from the airport...that's new.

I am now holding my bags and standing on the sidewalk. My wallet is back in my purse which is tangled up in the rest of the bag handles. I explain that I wasn't paying any more - I didn't believe it fair to pay for him getting lost. He told me again what the fare was.

I turned around and walked inside. As my new friend Mel would say - "Good times."

It's good to be home.

My little parrot

Lest we begin to think that my life is all about The Idiot and my divorce.....here are a couple things that just cracked me up this weekend.

My daughter has started the avoid-bedtime routine. It's awesome. A nice end to any busy day. But seriously...she's brilliant at it. I'm pretty good at pushing back...once she's in bed...she's in bed.

But there is the back and forth, of course. Anyway - her latest attempt made me almost fall out of the rocking chair. I went in to put her back in bed and she told me she needed me to rock her in the chair.

Alright. No problem. While we were rocking, she asked for 4 grapes. Which, in itself, is funny. Who asks for 4 grapes?

I told her no. She said please. I told her no. She pulled out the big guns and said, "May I please have 4 grapes, Mama, please?"

D'oh! I told her no. She told me she was hungry. I told her I knew but no.

Then she said, "Mama, I need 4 grapes. I'm starving of death right now."

*****************************************

We were driving in the car and listening to 'my music'. As opposed to 'her music'. She said it was too loud.

So I turned it down a little.

Still too loud.

I turned it down again. Now it was so low it was just annoying and I wonder why I didn't turn it off.

She said, "Mama, turn that down! I can't hear myself think!"