Random Philly Finds Part VII

out of the woods

The drive on the Turnpike North to 195 East hasn’t gotten any easier for me. There are a lot of things that haven’t gotten any easier for me, even though they should have by now.

After spending the afternoon with a friend and her baby, eating my favorite sushi and walking on the boardwalk, it was time to go home. There were a couple hours of daylight left when I passed a sign for Allaire State Park.

It had been nearly two years since I visited Allaire on a geocaching mission. The trails in the park are unmarked and everything looks the same. We had lost our way and ended up having to rely on the GPS and some pretty good bushwhacking skills to get back to the car.

This time I was alone and without GPS. I walked and walked. I watched where I turned and what landmarks were at those turns. The sun began to set and I arrived safely back to the jeep and headed home. In a way, that walk in the woods was symbolic. I thought about the fact that sometimes, we have to purposely put ourselves in uncomfortable, challenging positions...we have to walk into the woods just so we can learn how to walk out.

the bystander effect

On Saturday, I took a ride to New Hope with a friend of mine. It was a busy, holiday weekend and several people were walking along the main street. We stopped on the bridge to look at the giant koi in the water below. While we were standing there, a baby duck went over the falls and became separated from its mother and siblings.

The event drew a crowd and everyone stopped to watch the helpless duckling. The longer we stood there, the more people gathered. After a few minutes, one man crossed the bridge and went to the edge of the water. Soon after, another man joined him. The crowd grew larger. At this point, there were five people looking for a way down to the water to save the duckling. Several minutes later, the police arrived and conducted the rescue.

It made me think about two things. The first is human interference with the natural selection process. Perhaps that duckling just wasn’t supposed to make it.

The second is the bystander effect. The bystander effect refers to the phenomenon in which the greater the number of people present; the less likely people are to help a person in distress. When an emergency situation occurs, observers are more likely to take action if there are few or no other witnesses.

I read a news story recently about a woman who was assaulted and raped by a man as bystanders watched. As I stood on the bridge Saturday afternoon, I couldn’t help but wonder if so many people would have taken an interest if it was a person in the water instead of a baby duck.

asparagus pee

Depending on which study you read, between 22% and 50% of the population report having pungent pee after eating asparagus. But that doesn't mean only some people's bodies generate that smell. Researchers believe that, during digestion, the vegetable's sulfurous amino acids break down into smelly chemical components in all people. And because those components are "volatile," meaning airborne, the odor wafts upward as the urine leaves the body and can be detected as soon as 15 minutes after you eat this spring delicacy.

But only about one-quarter of the population appears to have the special gene that allows them to smell those compounds. So the issue isn't whether or not your pee is smelly; it's whether you're able to smell it. If you smell a funny fragrance in your urine after you eat asparagus, you're not only normal, you have a good nose.

the hardest lesson learned

This is most likely the post that I didn’t want you to read. It’s the post that I didn’t want to write. 

I’ve had a conversation with friends on multiple occasions about the public nature of this blog and how it makes me feel uncomfortable at times, knowing that anyone can read it. The thing is, it isn’t random strangers reading about my personal life that bothers me. 

And so, this is most likely the post that I didn’t want you to read. It has taken me a year, three months and eight days to arrive at this place. It is the hardest lesson I have ever learned. Just because you say that you are sorry doesn’t mean that people have to forgive you. 

days with my father

They said he is who is...they said he would never change...they said that I needed to just accept who he is.

The earliest memory I have of my father is of us walking to the town library on a cold night. I was four years old. As time passed, I became more aware of certain things...his attitude, the things he said (no matter who was around) and most of all, his temper.

And so I spent the better part of my childhood taking it all in...and the majority of my young adulthood being angry about it. I was eighteen years old and a freshman in college the first time I went to therapy. The ten years that followed were spent trying to work it out.

I purchased my first home when I was twenty eight. It was a fixer-upper (to put it gently) and a project that my father and I took on together. At the onset of this “adventure” I had a conversation with my mother about my father’s angry tendencies and the way in which they have affected me. She stared at me, puzzled and then she called him into the family room. His eyes welled up with tears as this information was being relayed to him. My mom was not aware of what I had experienced as a child. My dad was not aware that he was doing anything wrong.

I left it all there that day. For the next two years, we spent nearly every weekend at the house. It was a labor of love and an exercise in healing for both of us.

Three years ago, my father retired. Since then I have seen a different side of him, one that I never imagined could exist. He bakes cookies and researches slow-cooker recipes. He spends countless hours in the yard, which is merely an excuse to smoke a cigar. He does the grocery shopping, vacuums the house and unloads the dishwasher (at 6AM). The dog has become his best friend and they are inseparable, taking three walks a day. And, most importantly, he has become a world champion solitaire player (that lap top was money well spent).

They said he is who is...they said he would never change...they said that I needed to just accept who he is. They were wrong.

Bikram says...

"Nothing can steal happiness, peace away from you: if anyone does make you angry, you are the loser; if someone can allow you to lose peace, you are the loser."

foresight

This morning I was stopped at a red light, coming off the exit ramp of 295 South by Crown Point Road. An older woman, driving a blue dodge hatch back turned onto the road. She ignored my incessant beeping and proceeded to drive northbound onto southbound exit ramp. 

In a matter of seconds, I heard the sound of screeching brakes, followed by what I can only assume was a crash. 

It is an eerie feeling to see someone at the moment their fate is sealed, especially when they don't know it.

days with my mother

About two years ago I made the worst decision of my life. My fiancé at the time was looking for jobs in the Philadelphia area and accepted one in Croydon, PA. It was just a short trip up I-95 from the house that I owned in Fishtown. She had lost countless hours of her life to commuting over the past several years, so the house was a perfect option.

I backed out at the last minute, electing to stay at home with my parents in south jersey and she moved into my house by herself.

It was definitely a fucked up situation, I know...but something was drawing me to stay here...something I couldn’t quite put my finger on...maybe it was the realization, albeit at the worst time, that I am not a city person...maybe it was the sense that I was somehow needed around the house...maybe it was a combination of both.

Last August I got a call from the local gym that my mom had passed out and was being taken to the emergency room via ambulance. That moment was the most vulnerable I have ever seen my father. At the time, he was recovering from double cataract surgery and could barely see, let alone drive. I took him to the hospital and we were escorted to my mother’s room. It was my first experience of role reversal. I gathered my mom’s information and filled out the forms with the nurse. She spent the night in the hospital for tests and observation and was released the next day.

In late December I was woken up by a loud thump. A few seconds later, my dad called for me to come down stairs. My mom had passed out on the kitchen floor. She was so weak that it took both of us to get her up and to the couch. This was now a cause for concern. Doctor’s appointments were scheduled; blood work and tests were completed. All of the results were normal.

Early one morning in March I heard a loud thump. Immediately, I knew what it was. My dad called out to my mom, who was in the bathroom, but he did not receive a reply. He tried to open the door, but she was blocking it. She had passed out on the floor. I was able to get the door open a tiny bit, just enough to squeeze through, and lifted her onto the toilet seat.

My mom seems to be on track to pass out every three months.

I should have moved to Philadelphia that summer. To this day, I regret my decision, but I have also come to realize the good that has come as a result of my staying here and the fact that these events most likely would have put me back home anyway.

Third time’s a charm or bad things happen in threes?

When the race calendar was posted several months ago, I identified the Tour of Colts Neck as my goal race.  As of April 7^th my goal was to finish this race, on my bike and in one piece.

 

The drive up was accompanied by a churning stomach, which is a feeling I haven’t had since my days as a collegiate rower and one that has not been missed.

I spent the majority of the race as a careful observer, noting who was working together, which riders were being protected and who couldn't hold a line. I moved up in the field toward the end of the third lap into a safe position.

 

On the last lap, I saw Lauren to my right, powering up the hill. I grabbed her wheel and we turned on the afterburners. Three other riders followed and we had a gap. It didn’t last very long, but it sure was fun and it helped to string out the field a bit.

Coming into the final stretch, the sprint was somewhat compromised because we caught the 1/2/3 race ahead of us. There was a big shift to the left and I was tied up in it. At that moment it became difficult to suppress the drive to win, but staying safe this time around was my primary goal...mission accomplished. I rolled across the line in 7^th place, right on Lauren’s wheel and decided to save the sprint for next time.

Today's race was brought to you courtesy of the honey badger.

my favorite story

There was an undeniable connection between us from the start. We liked the same things. We had the same sense of humor. We could finish each other’s sentences. It didn’t take long for that to cause problems in her relationship. Eventually, the decision was made to end our friendship and we parted ways.

And I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t hurt. And I’d be lying if I said that she didn’t cross my mind from time to time because I missed her.

Three years later, she contacted me and we met for dinner, followed by coffee and a long talk in her car. It was like no time had passed at all and it was very obvious where all of this was headed.

There is no better feeling in the world than being in love with your best friend.

Three years have passed since that day and, while our story didn’t have a happy ending, it will always be my favorite story.