I see a massage therapist every other month as preventative maintenance. I was talking about this to a friend of mine and we exchanged stories about our current massage therapists. Then, I recalled an experience I had a few years ago.
My health insurance sent an announcement that certain providers were offering massage therapy at a discounted rate. I found one that was in a neighboring town and called to schedule an appointment. The guy told me that he was one of the only people in the tri-state area that specialized in ashiatsu massage. He asked if I had ever heard of it and I told him that I had.
It was snowing on the morning of my appointment. I arrived and found an empty parking lot with an unshoveled walk. I called the massage therapist’s cell phone. He answered and asked if I could hold on for a minute because he was on the other line. Really? Then, he hung up on me. He called back a few minutes later, saying that he wasn’t sure if I was going to cancel or if he was going to cancel because of the weather, but now that I had called, he was on his way.
After waiting for half an hour, he pulled into the parking lot and informed me that he forgot his keys. He then proceeded to break his office window, climbed through and let me in the front door.
I filled out some paperwork and was called back into the room with the table.
The massage started off fine, but then I noticed that his voice was getting further away. Shortly thereafter I realized that this was because he was massaging me with his feet. As if that wasn’t weird enough, he began calling out the muscle group he was working on in almost porn-like fashion, “Now I’m on your glute aw, yeah, you feel that? We’re getting deep in there now.” Then, he proceeded to tell me his life story, particularly his recovery from addiction to painkillers.
Needless to say, I never went back to see him again and, I learned an important lesson about the difference one letter (Ashiatsu vs. Shiatsu) can make.
Today is my birthday. I will be celebrating it the same way that I have for the past nine years...breakfast for dinner (at the diner) and a root beer float. The diner and my choice of company vary. There have been years that I’ve gone alone.
Only a few people know the origin of this tradition. This year marks the ten year anniversary of the event that started it all, so I thought it would be a good time to share.
From 1998 to 2001 I was involved in a pretty bad relationship. Obviously, it did not start out that way. The downward spiral began when I discovered that my partner was an alcoholic.
We arrived at my parent’s house for dinner. The meal was served and when we began clearing the table, I looked around the corner and saw M in the living room. The liquor cabinet was open and she was chugging a bottle of vodka. She returned to the kitchen and offered to help, but it was apparent that something was not right. My mom told her to relax and watch TV. Shortly thereafter, candles were placed on my carrot cake and lit. My mom brought the cake to the table and called us in to sing happy birthday. M got up from the family room floor (where she had passed out), said there was something wrong with her contact lens and that she had to go home. She walked out the front door and drove home.
Needless to say, this was an embarrassing experience. I had tried to hide her drinking problem from my family because my uncle’s alcoholism had caused my mother so much pain. Now, it was all out on the table.
Two of my friends picked me up and drove me back to Philly. When I entered the apartment, her bedroom door was shut and locked. I did not see much (if any) of her during the weeks following that incident. Shortly thereafter, she moved out and I never heard from her again.
On my next birthday, some friends wanted to take me out to the bar of my choice to celebrate. It made me think a little bit about how the default setting for celebrating seems to be “Let’s grab a drink.” Personally, I can think of better ways to celebrate, better ways to spend my money and better ways to spend my time than at a bar, drinking. I respectfully declined and invited a close friend to accompany me to the diner to have breakfast for dinner and a root beer float.
Hahnemann, Novacare, Frankie, helping, doing my best...Burning the candle at both ends...Job applications, resumes,interviews...Oktoberfest...Home is the people you meet along the way, 48° 41′ 48″ N 113° 43′ 6″ W...Shenandoah, Hollow-Weenie, Justin Bieber, Delaware Water Gap, Sunfish Pond and Mount Tammany...My 200th Geocache...Shinedown...Hot Yoga...Food Inc., Tapped, No Impact Man, The Cove, Netflix, Paleo Plan, eating local, eating organic...Christmas Eve, your new tattoo...Chris Pureka...Walking around Chinatown, Reading Terminal Market...Falling slowly, eyes that know me And I can't go back The moods that take me and erase me And I'm painted black...Being snowed in with you, spending the weekend in bed, Secretariat and The Social Network...Celebrating groundhog day, FARMiCiA, snowshoes, contact solution...Losing my best friend, losing weight, unanswered questions...Hesitate, Lie to me, Like a Stone, Reap, Get Around This, Between The Lines, Forever and Always, She Says, Whataya Want From me, Come Back to Me, Unshakable, If You Only Knew... Hiking alone, walking and walking and walking, learning to enjoy the silence, finding the perfect pair of hiking boots, the Batona Trail, the Appalachian Trail...Spring, sunsets, sadness...The road alone...Back to Temple, running the zip tower, getting paid to work on my tan...My road...Moving out, moving on, letting go, holding on...Ice and Camo, attack on the hills, Action Wheels, Caffeinated Cyclist, Clean Bottle, Cytomax, Stockton, New Hope, Lambertville, the French Bakery, time trials, riding my bike, forgetting...The road twice traveled...Orlando, old friends, couponing, cat allergies...rain and more rain, ruining weekends, retro fitness...Baxter State Park, 9/10/11, Mount Kathadin, Bar Harbor, Acadia...I'm still not out of the woods.
Note: Mt. Katahdin is the highest peak in Maine and the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.
The alarm went off at 5AM. We rolled out of the tent and into the darkness. I fired up the jetboil (a must have for the caffeine addicted camper) and made some coffee.
The drive from Abol to Roaring Brook was about 16 miles. The roads in the park are narrow and bumpy so the journey took about an hour. We arrived at the parking lot where several other hikers were preparing for their day on the mountain. I filled my CamelBak, laced up my Scarpa Kailash Boots and we made our way to the Ranger’s Station to sign the log book.
Our original plan was to hike Chimney Pond to Dudley (Pamola Peak), cross over the Knife Edge to Baxter Peak, then descend via the Saddle Trail and Chimney Pond. When we arrived at Chimney Pond the Ranger told us that there were wind gusts of 50mph at the peak, which made crossing over the Knife Edge (a narrow, exposed ridge) somewhat dangerous. We opted to take the Cathedral Trail to Baxter Peak, and then follow the Saddle Trail to Chimney Pond.
The trail was classified as “ strenuous” and it easily lived up to that label. In many sections, I was required to climb up large boulders. On more than one occasion I found myself saying, “The trail goes where? How am I supposed to get up there?”
Stacie was moving a bit slower and eventually told me to go ahead so that I did not have to wait in the biting wind. I reached the summit shortly before 2pm and found several others enjoying lunch, snapping photos and (believe it or not) talking on their cell phones. The oddest sight was a hiker (who had started the trail in Massachusetts two months ago) smoking a cigarette.
After a couple pictures and a quick snack, we made our descent via the Saddle Trail. In the distance I could see a section where the trail leveled off. I figured that all we needed to do was reach that point and it would be an easy trip down the rest of the way. I was wrong.
We descended 2353 feet in about 2.5 miles. I arrived at Chimney Pond, thankful to be standing on something that was not a rock, but I still had another 3.3 miles to go.
By the time I reached the parking lot, the sun had just set. There were several other cars still there, which meant that these hikers would be completing their descent in the dark. After a quick stretch and a change of clothes, I made my way back to the Ranger Station where I waited for Stacie. I looked in the direction of the trail and saw several headlamps bobbing up and down in the dark. A group of hikers (including my partner) emerged from the woods, happy to be on level ground. We signed out of the log book and headed back to camp.
The next day we packed up and headed for Acadia National Park. Originally, we had planned on doing a few hikes, but our legs thought otherwise. Three days later, I am still sore, but it was well worth it.
There is a line in the song “Closer to Love” by Mat Kearny that goes “I guess we’re all one phone call from our knees.”
I thought about that song today as I drove through Philadelphia. Several times I was stopped at a red light and approached by panhandlers. I wondered how they got there. I wondered what everyone else thought of them. I even wondered what they thought of themselves.
They make me thankful. They make me humble. And, I know that this is a stretch, but...they make me realize that there are many people out there who are only one poor decision away from a similar fate.
I like country music and frequently listen to it on a Sirius/XM channel called “The Highway.”
Last week I tuned in to a Sarah Evans song. It wasn’t one I was familiar with, yet I knew the words. What the hell is going on? Why do I know this song? After a few moments I realized she was covering another artist and that artist was none other than Rod Stewart! I was disgusted with myself. Ew, why am I singing this song? I hate Rod Stewart!
Let it be known that no artist should ever cover a Rod Stewart song and furthermore, Rod Stewart should not cover another artist. In fact, he should stop making music all together.
Artists who have covered Rod Stewart include...
The Cast of Glee: Do You Think I’m Sexy
Sheryl Crow: The First Cut is the Deepest
Sarah Evans: My Heart Can’t Tell Me No
Songs Rod Stewart has covered include...
Downtown Train (Tom Waits)
Have I Told You lately (Van Morrison)
Have You Ever Seen The Rain (Creedence Clearwater Revival)
