At yesterday's barbecue, the food was delicious. I made the salad, and the dressing, of course, and contributed all-natural hot dogs and organic hamburger buns. The corn on the cob was that-day fresh, plump, and sweet; we taught the others how to quickly cook it in the microwave, right in the husk.
An after-meal walk in Cheesman Park held a surprise. We try to walk everyday, so yesterday we honored our habit, but this particular walk triggered some quiet and unused synapses in my brain. A tango competition was being held at the Pavillion, and I suddenly remembered the trophy I won in junior high for ballroom dancing. When we returned to our friend's house, we tangoed in the alley. All those decades have not erased my tango know-how.
The day ended with reading in bed. I finished Stephen Becker's novel A Convenant with Death (from Amazon: "The powerful, bestselling novel of a murder trial..."), and read the last paragraphs at least thrice. The words fit my 2010 Labor Day long weekend; some of the words authentically mirrored the weekend, and some were aspirational. Here they are for you:
Not much of a moral to a story? But it is all I have to tell you, so listen:
Wiggle your fingers. Wiggle your toes. Go naked to the market. Rejoice in all mornings. Join hands and kiss. Laugh. Love. If you cannot love, pity. If you cannot pity, have mercy. That man is not your brother; he is you.
And since I have tango on the brain, here is my article "Powerful Medicine: Tango with Your Toast" about the benefits of laughter and fun. I do hope your weekend includes lots of both.