Last Wednesday, my friend Melody and I attended the Yeti demo event at Green Mountain in Lakewood, Colorado. Yeti is a mountain bike manufacturer and the evening was going to be filled with the laughter and excitement of riding beautiful new Yeti bikes on the mountain trails.
And it was ... for almost an hour.
But then, I went flying down the trail too fast, and I accidentally squeezed my front brake. wrong! Squeezing the front brake on a decline will cause the back wheel to flip over you. And that can hurt. Oh, it hurt.
Before the dust settled, I saw Melody rushing toward me. She lifted the bike off me, and then she helped me up. I wasn't the most gracious of bike-crashers. My face hurt and the blood was dripping; I was disappointed in myself and afraid of the damage done. But Melody helped me back on the bike, and she rode with me another 30 minutes until we reached the parking lot. We quickly washed the blood off the bike and returned it to the Yeti crew; we loaded my gear into my car, and I drove away.
My daughter joined me, and together we drove to the hospital. As we walked into the Emergency Room, a very efficient clerk took my name and in just a few short moments, a triage nurse was taking my blood pressure and asking questions. And then I was delivered to the gentle care of Christy, David and Page. For over three hours, they worked to clean and stitch my mouth and my face.
I've thought often this past week of good friends and family who care for us in "those moments", particularly Melody and Caroline. They were so wonderful. And I've thought a lot about Christy and David and Page. Goodness knows they cared for hundreds of people before I arrived, and many more since. But to me they were a godsend.
I started writing this blog last October, to appreciate the times when I witness ordinary people doing extraordinary things. But I never imagined they'd be doing those things for me. A belated yet profound Thank You to friends & family & medical workers. You are each uniquely amazing to me.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Three Cheers for the iPhone Guy!
When is the last time you upgraded your phone? I upgraded my trusty, dusty iPhone 3GS to an iPhone 4GS and it had been a long 3 years, for me.
Have you noticed, when you buy new bath towels and toss the old ones, you're rewarded with a thick blanket of warmth. When you discard last week's flowers and fill the vase with a new bouquet, you're rewarded with beauty. When you upgrade your iPhone ... there is no warmth or beauty. There's confusion, mass confusion.
The gadget wants your permission to track you, tag you, announce your whereabouts to a non-existent adoring public and all manner of other indignities. But it doesn't want your old photos, your old notes, your calendar or email account. It's frustrating, to put it mildly.
But then there's that guy. You know, the guy at the store. You walk in and cry, "help". And he looks at you like you're the 1 billionth set-up he's done, yet with a friendly, welcoming smile. "Sure, I can help." And he does. In just a few minutes, your Outlook is back to it's old self, and (in my case) your outlook on life is improved, too.
Profound thanks to the techie-guy. Your service was of inestimable value, and your kindness was greatly appreciated.
Have you noticed, when you buy new bath towels and toss the old ones, you're rewarded with a thick blanket of warmth. When you discard last week's flowers and fill the vase with a new bouquet, you're rewarded with beauty. When you upgrade your iPhone ... there is no warmth or beauty. There's confusion, mass confusion.
The gadget wants your permission to track you, tag you, announce your whereabouts to a non-existent adoring public and all manner of other indignities. But it doesn't want your old photos, your old notes, your calendar or email account. It's frustrating, to put it mildly.
But then there's that guy. You know, the guy at the store. You walk in and cry, "help". And he looks at you like you're the 1 billionth set-up he's done, yet with a friendly, welcoming smile. "Sure, I can help." And he does. In just a few minutes, your Outlook is back to it's old self, and (in my case) your outlook on life is improved, too.
Profound thanks to the techie-guy. Your service was of inestimable value, and your kindness was greatly appreciated.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Time & Time Again
I write about cycling more than other topics because, as my favorite hobby, it's natural that I'd meet a disproportionate number of friendly people who share my passion for the sport. Sometimes, I hesitate to write again about a kind & thoughtful cyclist, because it seems that I write about those folks too often.
But then ... again ... another cyclist does the nicest thing. Today's Mr. Nice Guy goes to Matt, an acquaintance who coached me on the nuances of Criterium racing. He offered to ride with me, to teach me techniques out on the road, but I have a tight schedule, so we just met at Starbucks, where he drew diagram after diagram at our little table. For one brief hour, I listened carefully and soaked in as much of his expertise as possible. What a generous gift. Now I'm prepared for Saturday's race. And once again, I am blessed.
But then ... again ... another cyclist does the nicest thing. Today's Mr. Nice Guy goes to Matt, an acquaintance who coached me on the nuances of Criterium racing. He offered to ride with me, to teach me techniques out on the road, but I have a tight schedule, so we just met at Starbucks, where he drew diagram after diagram at our little table. For one brief hour, I listened carefully and soaked in as much of his expertise as possible. What a generous gift. Now I'm prepared for Saturday's race. And once again, I am blessed.
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