I get the fascism thing, and I keep hoping the voters will be smarter. I don't know if it is smarter to live in hope, but you have to have something to hang on to. Michael Moore says it will be a blue tsunami!! "Life is uncertain, so eat dessert first."
Trying to imagine if I still have a three block run left in me. Motivation is everything. Sounds like your wallet wasn’t the most important thing you recovered that day. I’m playing an animated version of your story in my mind and enjoying it even more.
I don't think I have or had a 3 block run in me at any age. At age 62 (I'm now 82) I developed full bundle branch black of my cardio nerve net which produced bradycardia, rest pulse rate of 40, went no higher with exertion. After we convinced the cardiologist that even at 62 there was no need to avoid fainting spells (which I didn't have as yet) when up on a 24 foot ladder or driving 50 miles into Minneapolis he put in my first pacemaker (the reason he didn't see any man needing a pacemaker util older was this was Minnesota, where Bachelor Norwegian Farmers didn't see a doctor until they had one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel).
I've since had 3 pacemakers, 2.0 was my 70th birthday present and 3.0 was my 81st birthday present. The point is that this neural condition (the rest of my heart is doing just fine) is congenital but doesn't manifest fully until later in life. I think I inherited it from my Dad and I think that's what killed him. I never saw him run and I always had trouble running any distance (did OK on the softball base paths) but both of us could walk all day (he carried mail in Minneapolis for 37 years). Words to the wise: guys, don't be macho and go to the Doc regularly, especially if you have any kind of heart problems including low pulse rate.
Thanks for the advice. I've been through the medical mill a couple of times and will go back in January to get a new defibrillator in my left pectoral. Glad you're being careful.
Oh, GK! What a wonderful story to kick off the weekend! The triumph in the run & recovery and joy of love made me damn near weepy at the story’s beautiful conclusion. Ain’t Love & Life grande?! Yes. Strive to be happy, indeed, and enjoy your ice cream before it melts. Bravo!
I can imagine myself in your place running and weaving through traffic, after the cab, though I’m only 64. I’m glad you made it. Thank you for your beautiful writing, and yes, God loves you!!
Five years ago I left my cell phone in a coworker’s car. I also realized my mistake as they drove away, but my coworker is a former taxi driver, and there was no way I was going to be able to catch up to him. Instead, I went into a corner store (I think downstate they’re called bodegas) and asked the shopkeeper if I could call myself using his phone. Nope. At least, thankfully, my coworker would mail it to me or something. Then another person out on the street overheard my pleas and told me to use his. I called my phone, which was answered by my coworker, who turned back (not the easiest task in NYC, but again, former taxi driver) and met me on the same street corner where he’d dropped me off. I have never been able to appropriately thank this total stranger from the streets of Brooklyn.
I believe that New York City is similar to a high school student. Beneath the surface, there are people who genuinely care about one another, though that is not the side that people usually see or notice.
When I’ve visited Manhattan everyone walking on the street has an expression of “don’t mess with me, I’m in a hurry”. But, when I ask someone a tourist question, they drop their NYC Face and politely help out, before putting their busy face again and hustling off.
You're right about New Yorkers caring about each other. I tripped on a curb on 88th St once and fell and within five seconds there were four people around me, asking if I was all right.
Any story that include the adjective "galumphing" is right down my own alley and well-worth chasing too. Never having seen it in print before, I googled it and this came up: "The word 'galumph' was coined by Lewis Carroll in his children's story Through the Looking Glass. It is one of several invented words in the nonsense poem Jabberwocky." The world needs more such unique observations of doing attempts....
So, let us love ourselves, both our doings and our attempted doings, no matter. Nothing beats a challenging effort that's won, or even our attempt that, for one good reason or another resulted in an effort but not the wallet. Not all the time, must mind us octogenarians, but only at a worth, appropriate time.
The only "attaboy" we get will likely be our own, and from the one who dearly loves you. You may not have such a someone, in which case your own "selfie shot" will have to do. As long as your own self-praise is uncommon and well deserved, then bow and be given the laurel wreath for a race well-run and recognized.
Pyrrhic victories just aren't worth the risk. Press on.....
A lost wallet story with a happy ending! What a rarity. It's more common to find you've bought someone an expensive set of golf clubs and made lots of expensive phone calls to Mozambique. Congratulations on your well-deserved good fortune.
Thank you Mr K. You’ve got a strange way of touching people you don’t know, helping us get to the goals of our lives with a a shrug and a smile like Magic Johnson’s no look passes did. But I’m grateful and smiling. Have a nice day (I’min californiaanditsrequiredtosaytoendallconversation) 🥸
After my Dad died from diabetes I decided I didn’t want to follow his horrible demise. I did research and found that a plant based diet can help prevent diabetes, heart disease, cancer, etc.. Surprising that after your heart event, Mr. Keillor, you celebrated your “run” with a hamburger. 2 of the many documentaries that helped me are “The Game Changers” and “Food Choices”, both available online.
At his age and relatively healthy, he should enjoy all the simple pleasures he can. My mother, a health nut, died at 66 17 years ago from cancer while a partner of hers that she ostracized for ordering "unhealthy" food in a restaurant lived into his 80s dying last year.
My father’s job took us to Puerto Rico when I was eight, and because of that job we had access to at the San Juan Hotel pools. My mother, not knowing better, slathered my sisters and me with baby oil and fell asleep on a longe chair poolside ,us under the watchful eye of two lifeguards.
One day I glanced over at the high board and decided to surreptitiously wander over, intent on overcoming my fear and jumping off of it.
As I climbed the never ending steps to the top and finally stepped on the edge of the board, I realized I had only two choices; one to back down and one to jump. So with my stomach in a knot, I inched forward. When I got to the end, looking down, the black lane stripes seemed millions of miles away. I gathered my courage and jumped, just like that. I felt the wind lifting my hair, and soon my feet hitting the water and then touching the bottom of the pool. I pushed up hard and emerged triumphant. I wanted to run over to my mother to tell her about my great accomplishment, but I realized that parental praise was not in her vernacular. She was a good mother but not one to tell me how excited she was about my achievement and telling me how proud she was of me, so I simply kept my triumph to myself.
Later in my life, looking back on that day, I wondered how many high boards I had retreated from out of a lack of the confidence and courage that it took my eight year old self to swallow my fear and just jump without knowledge of the outcome, and praise myself exuberantly for my accomplishment.
It is only now that I am able to offer myself the words I wanted to hear from my mother.
“Honey that’s wonderful! How brave! I’m so proud of you!”
Oh, man.. SO much more than adequate- truly above average! Gave me the courage to go Out this morning and plant these chestnut oaks all through the back field. Thanks!
Fear, the great motivator! Reminders every now and then that we have capabilities we may have doubted are messages from our larger awareness. Risk taking is as natural as drinking, and speaking of drinking, I believe I will tip one to those who have left this coil while chasing after a wallet. Those of us still here enjoy the luck of the draw, and other fortunes.
' In a few months we may be on the road to fascism. As my dad used to say, “Enjoy your ice cream before it melts.' Dang! You're adequate'!
I get the fascism thing, and I keep hoping the voters will be smarter. I don't know if it is smarter to live in hope, but you have to have something to hang on to. Michael Moore says it will be a blue tsunami!! "Life is uncertain, so eat dessert first."
Trying to imagine if I still have a three block run left in me. Motivation is everything. Sounds like your wallet wasn’t the most important thing you recovered that day. I’m playing an animated version of your story in my mind and enjoying it even more.
This was not a graceful lope, more like an accelerated stagger. But success was sweet.
Accelerated stagger! How Frankensteinian!
Way t go, Garrson, you The Guy.
I don't think I have or had a 3 block run in me at any age. At age 62 (I'm now 82) I developed full bundle branch black of my cardio nerve net which produced bradycardia, rest pulse rate of 40, went no higher with exertion. After we convinced the cardiologist that even at 62 there was no need to avoid fainting spells (which I didn't have as yet) when up on a 24 foot ladder or driving 50 miles into Minneapolis he put in my first pacemaker (the reason he didn't see any man needing a pacemaker util older was this was Minnesota, where Bachelor Norwegian Farmers didn't see a doctor until they had one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel).
I've since had 3 pacemakers, 2.0 was my 70th birthday present and 3.0 was my 81st birthday present. The point is that this neural condition (the rest of my heart is doing just fine) is congenital but doesn't manifest fully until later in life. I think I inherited it from my Dad and I think that's what killed him. I never saw him run and I always had trouble running any distance (did OK on the softball base paths) but both of us could walk all day (he carried mail in Minneapolis for 37 years). Words to the wise: guys, don't be macho and go to the Doc regularly, especially if you have any kind of heart problems including low pulse rate.
Thanks for the advice. I've been through the medical mill a couple of times and will go back in January to get a new defibrillator in my left pectoral. Glad you're being careful.
Hang in there, Garrison, keep ahead of the game. Let's both have many more years.
Well done, Garrison!!
Oh, GK! What a wonderful story to kick off the weekend! The triumph in the run & recovery and joy of love made me damn near weepy at the story’s beautiful conclusion. Ain’t Love & Life grande?! Yes. Strive to be happy, indeed, and enjoy your ice cream before it melts. Bravo!
I can imagine myself in your place running and weaving through traffic, after the cab, though I’m only 64. I’m glad you made it. Thank you for your beautiful writing, and yes, God loves you!!
Five years ago I left my cell phone in a coworker’s car. I also realized my mistake as they drove away, but my coworker is a former taxi driver, and there was no way I was going to be able to catch up to him. Instead, I went into a corner store (I think downstate they’re called bodegas) and asked the shopkeeper if I could call myself using his phone. Nope. At least, thankfully, my coworker would mail it to me or something. Then another person out on the street overheard my pleas and told me to use his. I called my phone, which was answered by my coworker, who turned back (not the easiest task in NYC, but again, former taxi driver) and met me on the same street corner where he’d dropped me off. I have never been able to appropriately thank this total stranger from the streets of Brooklyn.
I believe that New York City is similar to a high school student. Beneath the surface, there are people who genuinely care about one another, though that is not the side that people usually see or notice.
When I’ve visited Manhattan everyone walking on the street has an expression of “don’t mess with me, I’m in a hurry”. But, when I ask someone a tourist question, they drop their NYC Face and politely help out, before putting their busy face again and hustling off.
You're right about New Yorkers caring about each other. I tripped on a curb on 88th St once and fell and within five seconds there were four people around me, asking if I was all right.
Any story that include the adjective "galumphing" is right down my own alley and well-worth chasing too. Never having seen it in print before, I googled it and this came up: "The word 'galumph' was coined by Lewis Carroll in his children's story Through the Looking Glass. It is one of several invented words in the nonsense poem Jabberwocky." The world needs more such unique observations of doing attempts....
So, let us love ourselves, both our doings and our attempted doings, no matter. Nothing beats a challenging effort that's won, or even our attempt that, for one good reason or another resulted in an effort but not the wallet. Not all the time, must mind us octogenarians, but only at a worth, appropriate time.
The only "attaboy" we get will likely be our own, and from the one who dearly loves you. You may not have such a someone, in which case your own "selfie shot" will have to do. As long as your own self-praise is uncommon and well deserved, then bow and be given the laurel wreath for a race well-run and recognized.
Pyrrhic victories just aren't worth the risk. Press on.....
Thanks for the like! Tom
A lost wallet story with a happy ending! What a rarity. It's more common to find you've bought someone an expensive set of golf clubs and made lots of expensive phone calls to Mozambique. Congratulations on your well-deserved good fortune.
Thank you Mr K. You’ve got a strange way of touching people you don’t know, helping us get to the goals of our lives with a a shrug and a smile like Magic Johnson’s no look passes did. But I’m grateful and smiling. Have a nice day (I’min californiaanditsrequiredtosaytoendallconversation) 🥸
What a wonderful story. And I mean it!
After my Dad died from diabetes I decided I didn’t want to follow his horrible demise. I did research and found that a plant based diet can help prevent diabetes, heart disease, cancer, etc.. Surprising that after your heart event, Mr. Keillor, you celebrated your “run” with a hamburger. 2 of the many documentaries that helped me are “The Game Changers” and “Food Choices”, both available online.
At his age and relatively healthy, he should enjoy all the simple pleasures he can. My mother, a health nut, died at 66 17 years ago from cancer while a partner of hers that she ostracized for ordering "unhealthy" food in a restaurant lived into his 80s dying last year.
My father’s job took us to Puerto Rico when I was eight, and because of that job we had access to at the San Juan Hotel pools. My mother, not knowing better, slathered my sisters and me with baby oil and fell asleep on a longe chair poolside ,us under the watchful eye of two lifeguards.
One day I glanced over at the high board and decided to surreptitiously wander over, intent on overcoming my fear and jumping off of it.
As I climbed the never ending steps to the top and finally stepped on the edge of the board, I realized I had only two choices; one to back down and one to jump. So with my stomach in a knot, I inched forward. When I got to the end, looking down, the black lane stripes seemed millions of miles away. I gathered my courage and jumped, just like that. I felt the wind lifting my hair, and soon my feet hitting the water and then touching the bottom of the pool. I pushed up hard and emerged triumphant. I wanted to run over to my mother to tell her about my great accomplishment, but I realized that parental praise was not in her vernacular. She was a good mother but not one to tell me how excited she was about my achievement and telling me how proud she was of me, so I simply kept my triumph to myself.
Later in my life, looking back on that day, I wondered how many high boards I had retreated from out of a lack of the confidence and courage that it took my eight year old self to swallow my fear and just jump without knowledge of the outcome, and praise myself exuberantly for my accomplishment.
It is only now that I am able to offer myself the words I wanted to hear from my mother.
“Honey that’s wonderful! How brave! I’m so proud of you!”
A wonderful memory!!! Yes fear often stops us from doing something -- and it shouldn't!!
Love this!
Oh, man.. SO much more than adequate- truly above average! Gave me the courage to go Out this morning and plant these chestnut oaks all through the back field. Thanks!
Fear, the great motivator! Reminders every now and then that we have capabilities we may have doubted are messages from our larger awareness. Risk taking is as natural as drinking, and speaking of drinking, I believe I will tip one to those who have left this coil while chasing after a wallet. Those of us still here enjoy the luck of the draw, and other fortunes.
I thought Mr. Keillor met his wife in 1992 as she was jogging in Central Park? New Creation Story?
Nope, it was a lunch at Dock's restaurant on B'way and 90th St.
She had to stop and eat sometime in there.
Great run! I couldn’t have done it unless the cab had been stopped by the police!