Jean and I are back from our trip to San Francisco to see Anna, Matt and Tonya. We checked on them and they seem to be behaving as young adults should so all seems well. I got some groceries today and my grocery bag stuck to the kitchen counter. There’s a 99.9% chance it’s food that didn’t get wiped off but Rocky was here alone while we were gone and we all know what can and often does happen spontaneously in the kitchen so we’re having it professionally cleaned.

Over the holidays, while I was recuperating, I started fessing up to Mom about my mis-spent youth. I told her about when Jimmy Wohler’s  parents went on vacation, left him home alone and I told Mom and Dad I would be spending the night at some other kids house but actually went to Jimmy’s. The police only showed up once all weekend and I didn’t admit to any of the details of our activities (Mom’s family has a history of heart problems and I didn’t want to be the cause of a meltdown after IM Wisconsin 2003) so I thought this conversation would start to pay for all my sins. Not so! Paybacks are hell (Mom, paybacks are heck).

When we got our tickets they were replacement tickets for last September’s canceled trip so Northwest Airlines picked the seats. First of all they were in the last two or three rows on every flight and secondly they were always directly in front of children who traveled badly. On the flight out the girl was kicking my seat and, at the top of her lungs, was bawling and wailing that her seat belt was too tight while mother and grandmother told her the plane wouldn’t take off unless she stayed in her seat.

On the way back a guy about 35 was supposed to be behind me. He notice a family was split apart by the aisle and asked if they wanted to switch seats. Of course they said yes. This time I had a happy girl who was swinging her legs while she colored, kicking my seat the entire 3 1/2 hour flight. She sang the alphabet song at least five times in a row and did the “John Jacob Jingleheimerschmidt” song at least fifteen times (isn’t there more than one verse?). She was by the window as we crossed the Rocky Mountains and must have asked her parents a dozen times if we were going over the North Pole. On the last flight a couple two rows in front of us had what appeared to be twins about 4 months old who screamed almost the entire trip. Needless to say napping was out on all flights. As they say, what goes around comes around.

Without dwelling on “bike-dive” recovery issues it appears I have developed some bathroom problems. Before you think you will be grossed out, read on. I noticed there wasn’t a towel on the shower door where I always keep it so I got a nice one out of the drawer. After my shower, as I was drying off, I noticed my feet were getting wetter and wetter (no, it wasn’t an old man leak problem). Apparently I had let the towel drop a little low and I was standing too close to the toilet and you know the rest. Luckily the toilet had been flushed. Lesson one-don’t stand so close to the toilet with a towel in your hand.

While we were in San Francisco we stayed at a great bed and breakfast called “Inn 1890” ( see http://www.inn1890.com/ ). We were in the lowest level with a walkout to the small back yard. Being at that level, the toilet and shower were in two small separate areas on a raised platform. In the shower area, the shower stall was raised even further. The shower area was so small that you had to hang your towel just outside the door. As I retrieved it I thought I was stepping down one step when I was actually going two. Without getting into the physics of the whole thing Jean saw a naked old man quick-stepping across the room and almost take a header into the wall about 10 feet away. Lesson two-pay attention to where you step.

The first night we were there we went out to eat with Matt, Anna and Anna’s roommate, Maread (Tonya had to work late so we punished her by making her cook the following night-Salmon, Asparagus, Baby Carrots and Garlic Potatoes preceded by a couple of bottles of excellent wine-great meal!!). After we got back to our room Jean and I went to bed. It was 9 their time but 12 our time which is past the old folks bedtime. As many do I felt the call to nature in the middle of the night. There was a small amount of light coming through the windows but not enough to see where the light switch was so I was feeling around the walls. As I went past the sink my wrist bumped the 20 oz. container of hand soap and it went to the floor.

The good news was that it was plastic so it didn’t shatter. The bad news is that the top popped off and 19 of the 20 ounces spilled on the floor right in front of the toilet. After a couple of choice words (Mom, it was Oh Crap!!) I got one of the hand towels and started to mop it up. Again, without going into the physics of the whole thing, soap doesn’t soak into a towel very well so I rinsed it out in the sink. First of all there were so many suds I thought they would be coming up out of the street drains the next day. Second of all is Lesson three-If you really have to go (number one, not number two) don’t run your hands under warm water.

At that point I couldn’t wait so I took two washcloths and put them on the floor where my feet would be so I wouldn’t slip in the soap. I misjudged the placement of the washcloths and I wasn’t quite as close as I should have been. I had to lean forward with my hand on the wall behind the toilet for proper trajectory. By then Jean had been awakened by my turning on the light outside the toilet room to see what I was doing and the sound of constant swearing (Mom, I didn’t swear-Jean just thought I did but was obviously mistaken). Needless to say she wasn’t very happy and disgusted to see her naked husband standing in the bathroom on two washcloths taking a pee. She thought I had a relapse and she didn’t want to go through that whole recovery process again. Lesson four-don’t make your wife mad in bed-the thought lingers and it plays havoc with other activities.

Lucky for me Jean is in the first few weeks of her training for Lake Placid and I start my training for Wisconsin on Monday so we won’t see each other much for six months. The week after Wisconsin I’ll swim the Tiburon Mile with Matt and Anna (?) out in San Francisco Bay so maybe the irritation will wear off by then. I’ve tentatively penciled her in for the Friday of the fourth week in September. 

Better go. It’s run day and times a-wastin’.

Just Jack