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November 24, 2006
Giving Thanks
Today, I met up with a nice man from Queens named Victor.
To understand why I met this man, we start yesterday morning. Around 9am, the start of the Macy*s Thanksgiving Day Parade at Central Park West and 77th Street, I shook Chis out of a deep sleep. The rain was pounding against the windows of our apartment. It was a cold, dreary, wet, windy day, but we had decided to venture out to see the parade.
With our yoga gear in tow, we flew out the door to head west to watch the parade on Broadway. The winds were strong, and they kept the huge balloons low to the ground. First, Scooby Doo went by. Then Sponge Bob Squarepants. Then Dora the Explorer. And many more we didn't recognize because, hmmm, we're over 40.
Chis got a chill, so we decided to head up through the park to a sister yoga studio on the Upper West Side for a class at 11 instead of the noon class we had planned in Midtown. We got to Central Park West and 72nd Street, and the police said we could only cross at 88th Street, or wait for the parade to finish. Either way, we would miss our yoga class. We perched on the wall and watched Garfield pass in front of the Dakota (where John Lennon was shot almost 26 years ago). Finally, Santa's sleigh, led by 8 reindeer and a big red GMC truck, slid past, and the parade was over.
We crossed to the west side and walked over to Columbus and down to the Midtown yoga studio we had originally planned to attend. By this time, we were soaked through various layers.
We had enough time before our class for a hot tea, and time afterwards for diner grub on the way home.
The message light was flashing when we walked in the door. The first message was from Victor, who had found my cell phone lying in a puddle in Central Park. The second message was from Victor, to give me an alternate number to call because my cell phone had crapped out. The third message was from my mother in Toronto, telling me to call Victor. Victor, clever man, flipped through the directory on my phone, and figured "Mom&Dad" was a good bet. He called mom. Now, at the best of times, mom is not the easiest to get off the phone. According to Victor, mom said "talk all you want Victor, my son is paying the bill". I told him he was absolutely talking to MY mother.
I was wearing my favourite wind/rain proof jacket. I love this jacket. I bought it in Charleston when we were southbound with Platina. Brother Jeff and good friend Toby were with me at the time, and Tobes, being an avid sailor, coveted my purchase a the time. It being wind/rain proof makes it perfect for sailing. Two small problems: it doesn't breathe, and the inside pocket has a hole in it. (I have told Tobes in the past about the non-breathing part, but he will now have two reasons to have made the right decision NOT to buy the jacket).
The inside pocket with the hole in it? You got it... the very place that I put my cell phone.
Victor and I crossed phone messages a couple of times yesterday, but it being Thanksgiving, our turkey gorging plans overlapped. We finally connected this morning and agreed to meet in front of the Letterman Theatre. I in my canary-yellow-wind/rain-proof-pocket-with-a-hole-in-it jacket for easy identification.
He was on his way to a job interview, having been laid off after 15 years at Ford working as a mechanic in dealerships. He handed me my phone. I handed him $20. He refused, saying that it was what he would expect anyone else to do for him. I asked him to take the cash, and suggested he treat his girlfriend to something nice. And if he didn't want it, I suggested that he give it to a homeless person or a charity. He was greatful, and amazed.
I told him that he would undoubtedly get the job, because he had done a good deed. Good things come to those who do good deeds. We shook hands, and bid each other a happy holiday.
I felt really good as this complete stranger walked away and into the anonymous city. How wonderful the way lives intersect for mere moments, but make such a big difference.
Later in the morning, I tied on my running shoes and headed for a vigorous run in the park. I was waiting for the light to change, and a bus pulled up, knelt down, and expelled an elderly lady onto the street. She was clearly having trouble walking, so I offered her my hand to get her safely onto the sidwalk. She accepted.
I felt like I had springs in my feet as I turned on the turbo power and finished my 5-mile run with loads of energy to spare.
Pass it on.
Posted by dave at November 24, 2006 03:10 PM