At Ray’s suggestion, I drop my car off at Dave’s to check the rear wheels.

Dave called this morning and said “its just your tires…that noise is from your tires wearing unevenly. They’ve got scalloped edges.”

The poet says that it is good to grow younger towards your death. I think I am regressing. Evidence? Tonight. Sitting with in a Cambridge restaurant after a movie…I’m a bit bored. My tablemates are texting and talking techie stuff. Dinner is over and I’m waiting for the bill. Listening to overhead speakers rolling 80’s rock music. Not the best decade. Our pierced (eyebrows, lips, tongue and nose) and goth-like waiter has disappeared and the bill is too long in coming. I’m tired and ready for sleep.

Then the beat overhead is familiar and Madonna starts playing “Material Girl”. I drum the percussion part on the Formica tabletop. Beat picks up, I pound louder and start to sway and sing along. I know I’m sliding down that slippery slope towards inappropriate behavior….then, what the hell. Jump up and say “let’s dance”. Friends at the table laugh but look a bit dismayed. But our waiter suddenly appears! With our bill and a big smile. That surly creature, who was slow and bored with all of us….He suddenly appears at my side, shimmeys and sways. Graps my hand, twists and twirls. We dance and boggle in the aisle, ‘til the song ends with a sharp beat and our hands high-fivin’. Middle aged, 55 year old me and 23 (tops) tattooed dude find common ground.

I am told I wear my heart on my sleeve. But this is ridiculous. Last night, 7Pm walking into Main Street café for dinner and some tunes.

Waitress: “Dinner?”

Me: “Yes, please. Can I sit here? (pointing to one of the many empty tables at the front)

Waitress: “No that’s probably taken.”

Me: (staring hard at all the empty tables now).” Probably? How about these?? Are they reserved?”

Waitress: “Well no. (pause) But they might be…..”

Me: (still confused… giving up)…”Ok. I’ll sit at the Bar.”

Waitress: “Oh no, why don’t you sit here?” (points to the long table at the back where a man is already sitting)

She pulls out the chair next to him…

Me:  “But the bar is fine. And he’s sitting here?”

Waitress: “It’s ok. He’s single and very nice.”

Me: “I’m just looking for dinner. Really. Nothing more.”

Guy:  “I’m married”.

Me:  “I’m embarrassed. How do you do?”

My nose has driven  family and friends crazy over the years. It’s a curse. I can smell a bear a half mile away, garlic on the breath of someone clear across the room, the clashing multiple perfume scents in a theatre.  I’ve been known to wake John up in the middle of the night with “what’s that smell” simply because a cigarette smoker has walked on the sidewalk out front.   Never mind how I’ve been tortured by teens  after skiing-hiking-baseball-soccer-snowboarding refusing to drive them anywhere until they showered…..

But yesterday my nose failed me.  Happily curled up with a book, visiting with my parents, I wondered why I had such a headache?  Mike and Di walk in and Mike immediately says “I smell gas”.  “No way” I say, and ignore him.    Mike promptly went to the gas stove and turned it on.

The house did not explode.  But indeed we had a leaky furnace.  Now we owe him our lives.

BirdBrain

Alexander von Humboldt’s name is associated with hundreds of species and places : Humboldt Current, Humboldt penquin, squid, etc. etc.

His research station – photos here – is in the middle of this fantastic open range surrounded by active volcanoes, and it’s up for sale – if you have a million dollars, you can buy this – with over 2,000 acres of wild open land!

Inside the research station are lots of skins and stuffed animals from his research days with all the furnishings as he left it. We had lunch there and visited with the caretakers, a young family (dad and baby on horseback in the above photo).

Andean (or Black Faced) Ibis.

The Ibis world population is about 40 with all of them in Ecuador. We saw 24 in a magnificent private reserve – open only to birders – that surrounds the preserved Humboldt research station. Alexander von Humboldt (famous among science lovers like myself) was German (Prussian?) and worked in the 1800’s in South American….primarily inthe fields of botany, and geology — but also geography.

More photos from BirdBrain’s recent trip to Ecuador. Hikes in Yanachocha reserve (1 hour outside of Quito), the enchanted Polyleptis forest, an as yet unidentified volcano, and the Market at Otavalo.

Photo taken by BirdBrain in Ecuador.

“This little humingbird is call the Booted Racket-tail…. very fierce with other hummers (who, I am sure, lust after his boots!) but only the size of my index finger.”

A good camera in the hands of a good photographer. No, not mine, but BirdBrain’s. Her dog, Jill.

BirdBrain

Perhaps for the blog — or just you guys…

We had a great Parents Day visit with Chris. Because of all the rain, our focus was on talking and eating. But of all the many things one expects to hear from our son, this was one was a surprise… in the midst of talking about his dorm, the kids, his friends, he says mentions that he’s worried about Halloween. Why? “Oh, didn’t I tell you? My room is haunted”….

Check the list of “haunted places in Massachusetts”and here’s the story:

Springfield – Western New England College – Berkshire Hall – Room 401, the students feel that when they are getting up they cannot, like some force is holding them down. Supposedly a former student had hung himself in the room upon hearing that his girlfriend had broken up with him. The students also wake up with sound of broken glass.

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I’m tagging along on BirdBrain’s post. From this weekend:

“Matt, check out my new shirt. It only cost four dollars.”

“Dad, It’s ugly. And it doesn’t have one ugly color, it has six.”

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Got my teeth cleaned today. Andrea, the hygienist, on her way to the tooth she wanted to x-ray, was diverted by the molar I’d broken.

“Eeew, when did you do that?”

“A few months ago.”

“Was it sharp?”

“It was.”

“It was?”

“I filed it down.”

“You filed it down? What did you use.”

“Somethin’ from my shop.”

“Like you use on wood?”

“Or maybe it was the file that comes with nail clippers. I can’t remember which.”

Ok, you whiner … here’s a story for the blog, if you think it’s suitable … note: I have to go back 15 years to think of a good story …

But it comes to my mind each year at this time, when Rosh Hashanah begins.  As you know, we are not Jewish (not anything really), but when young son was 3 or 4, and his friends were celebrating, he was asking many questions. Which, like the fool that I am, I tried to answer.  On the lovely September Saturday when Rosh Hashanah began, we were taking a family walk along Crane’s Beach.  Because of all the questions, I was telling Chris a few of the stories and traditions surrounding this “new year” holiday … including the tradition of Tashlich. This lovely custom, I told him, involves taking bits of bread and throwing them into a river or ocean to symbolize throwing away one’s sins … which led to a very short explanation of “what is a sin”!  Yikes, I was in too deep now – but the best I could do was to say that a sin is something that you do that you feel really bad about, that you know is wrong.

Young son was quiet for awhile, then as we watched the ocean waves, he started running around gathering shells… creating a pile.
Very serious. 

“What are you doing,honey?”

“I have to throw these in the water” (he starts furiously throwing shell after shell, into the waves.)

“Why do you have to do this?”

“I have to throw away my sins.”

(I admit, I start to laugh) “Honey, you could not possibly have any sins …”

“YES I DO” (more furious throwing).

“What do you think is a sin?”

“When I get mad at you and think bad thoughts…..”

oh….. he collects more shells …

BirdBrain sent me these photos of her son, Chris, at Western New England College. Looks darn familiar.