I had an almost comical run of bad luck and negative
experiences last month. It was over the top. My friend at work ran into me when
I was doing paperwork and asked “Dude, are you alright? Your luck fucking sucks.”
He was spot on. My luck did indeed fucking suck, and I shall count the ways in
no particular order.
I crashed my scout car under circumstances where it was
clear the universe was just screwing with me.
I bent down to pet my cat one morning and my cell phone fell
from my pocket. The screen shattered as to be unreadable. I have had a
smartphone for many years and have never so much as scratched it (I did drop a
flip phone in the toilet once, but that doesn’t count).
I almost got pissed on at work. This is a perk of the job,
but on this occasion it was absurd. I work the hospital district and most of my
work consists of mental health transport from the ER to another facility and
transports for drunks that get brought in when they blackout in the middle of
the street. They are usually homeless guys, and they are pretty cool for the
most part (like my man Don). I am way cool with them and I have had some pretty
good, albeit drunken, conversations with them. I enjoy this work and head to
the ER for these calls without even a trace of resentment. This particular guy
was new and apparently having no part of this being cool nonsense. He wouldn’t even
speak to me, so with no other choice I took him to detox. It was still in a
friendly manner, because why not. When I opened the back door to let him out, I
was greeted with his charged and ready firehose. He started to piss at me and
I dodged it like Neo, then blocked it with my boot. I wasn’t even mad, just
confused.
There was a scheduling SNAFU and I was left off an overtime
job I work. I only work it to get some debt paid down. Debt is stress, stress
kills.
Another of my drunk homeless guys had a full on seizure while
walking in to detox. This guy is a regular and a joy to chat with. He is a
tattooed old Indian guy with a sweet Indian name like “John Strangles Bears”. He
has done time and talks about how he used to fight really well, but is “too old
for that bullshit now”. I turned around to open the door and he seized up and
hit the ground hard. I couldn’t catch him. I called for the ambulance and he
would end up OK, but I felt terrible for him.
There are many other assorted minor annoyances, but those
are the high points. They are First World Problems for certain, but shut up. It
made me think of that scene in “Stripes” where Bill Murray’s character has one
of those shit days that is capped off with his hot (and topless) girlfriend
leaving him. All the while there is that sad “woe is me” soundtrack in the
background. I didn’t even get a soundtrack. It seemed to never end.
Right in the middle of all this, my son has a friend that
lives down the street. His friend’s sister is in Girl Scouts and his mother is
the leader. They were having a weekend camp and needed a person to run the
archery range. I am no archer, but my son and his friend are good and have
taught at camp. I have the range safety certification though. It was scheduled
for an off weekend and I was not busy due to my overtime gig mix-up. I agreed
to go and run the range. It was at Slip. I figured since the Gods were likely
to send a comet to land on me, it might as well be at someplace I enjoy. I did
not realize the magic that Slip possesses.
The big weekend came. I reluctantly agreed to bring my dog,
Lennie, along. I love Lennie, but I imagined a weekend of chasing him around
like a sugared up toddler. The mother had met Lennie two weeks prior when my
fence and blown down and he had escaped. He is friendly to a fault and had
approached a girl that thankfully called me, but we were out of town. I called
my son’s friend. They took him in until we returned the next day. We left late because
I overslept, but I, my son, Lennie the Rescue Ghetto Mutt, and my son’s friend
headed down the road.
The magic of this place can apparently turn the tide of good
and evil. Slip is a summer camp, but the camp is used year round. I had worked
at Slip as a teenager for two summers. It was the best era of my life. My son
worked at this camp last summer, a full twenty-two years after I did. I alone
as a youth and with my son as a father have had many good times here since.
We arrived after dark and the boys got settled in their
hammocks. I went off to another campsite and started an inviting fire for the
night. I started a pot of water and drank herbal tea. I read “Legends of the
Fall” by Jim Harrison. My trusty companion Lennie stayed by my side all night.
The next day I woke early. I had only slept a few hours but felt energetic for
once. We set up the archery range and several groups of Girl Scouts came and
went. They were all polite, friendly and appreciative. Most importantly though,
they had a blast. They did not have this opportunity at home and they all
gleefully took full advantage of the opportunity. Between the groups, me and the
boys would goof around with the bows and generally had a lot of fun. We
finished with all the groups, cleaned up the range, and headed to the lake to
hang out. My son and his friend went off to Turtle Rock to fish. Lennie and I
went to the boating and swimming area to have a look around. Lennie, to my
amazement, does not like to get wet. I got him a kiddie pool so he could cool
off in the summer, but he was not interested. He is not a big fan of baths
either. I didn’t think he would do anything but stare warily at the evil
wetness of Lake Powell. We walked around, checked things out and to my utter
amazement, Lennie ran into the water a full speed. He swam is circles like a
little kid. He got out of the water and ran around in circles faster than I’ve
ever seen him run before, then would bolt back into the water for another swim.
Lennie could hardly contain his doggy paddle joy. He swam and swam and finally
got out and did his berserker run again, and bolted up the hill. Lennie does
not ever leave my side, but he was so excited I think he just forgot just what
it was he was doing. His energy and unbridled joy was so intense that laughed
out loud. I called him back and he snapped out of whatever swim rage he had
worked himself up to. He came back and just collapsed. We sat and watched the
sun set over the lake.
Day had slowly faded into a cool and clear night. We all
walked back to camp, with the boys headed to their campsite and me and Lennie
to ours. I fed and watered Lennie and put a can of beans in the fire to heat,
hobo style. Lennie ate a bit and drank a lot. Then he went to the car and sat
down and started to stare at me with his big brown eyes as he quietly whimpered.
This means he wants something, but doesn’t want to be too pushy about it.
Lennie wanted to be put to bed in the car. I opened the door and lifted him in
and he quickly fell asleep. There was way too much nature outside for him to
sleep soundly, it seems. Once again, this dog warmed my heart. He is like a
furry little child and his easygoing sweetness never fails to brighten my day.
I had my hobo beans and decided to go for a walk, guided
only by the star filled sky. I went back down to the waterfront and put a canoe
in the water. I gently paddled out to the middle of this small lake and sat to
take in the peace and quiet. There was no wind and the temperature was of that
perfect early fall feeling. There was not a cloud in the sky. I looked at the
Milky Way and all the stars that I can never see in the light of the city. It
was mesmerizing. I was drawn to the eastern sky where I gazed upon The Seven
Sisters for what seemed like an eternity. I have seen The Seven Sisters many
times in many exotic locations, be it on a mountain top in New Mexico or in the
middle of the Atlantic Ocean while out at sea. The Seven Sisters are my muse;
they are my guide towards the better side of what life brings you. I began to
grow a bit tired and paddled back to shore, where I put the canoe up for the
winter.
I awoke the next morning and felt even better than the one
before. We all went down to The Falls. The boys went for a swim, and Lennie
went water crazy again. I went to a special spot I found a few summers back to
sit and meditate. The peace of the rushing water, the joy of boys swimming, and
the humor at Lennie going berserk capped the weekend off nicely. We drove home,
stopping for some damn good barbeque about halfway back to the city. Things
since then have gone the other way, almost comical, to the positive side. I
credit the magic of Slip. Like the healing waters of a mineral bath, The Falls
have cleansed my soul from what ails me.