F 1 D 0 - 2003 06 29 at 1830 Two Television Shows. The ones I have in mind are both old ones: The Littlest Hobo, and The Fugitive. When I was young, The Littlest Hobo was a bright and perky German Shepherd. And his show came back on to Canadian Television with an older tired dog, perhaps with a lot of Shepherd in him. Last Thursday, I think I met this older tired dog. This dog was very friendly, but not in the sticky sweet way we are used to. I'm used to dogs and cats who are so much into people they come and play jump around with you and purr and and and. Not this one. It was a black female. She'd sort of run away when you tried to pet her. Thursdays are my day for running with Fresh Air Experience. They do this every week around 6 o'clock. People have all arrived by 630pm, where we go to a parking lot nearby, and run and do warmup exercises. The dog joined us during this. Our leader was concerned that the dog would get underfoot, or in the way, or something. Hobo just made some eye contact with a few of the people. They just happened to be the ones who regularly lead this thing. The warm up isn't too much, really. We run back and forth through the lot in interesting ways. Once arms in circles. One knees up high. Once sideways, kind of grapevine. Back with the other leg leading. We stretch just a while, and then we're off. Hobo joined us. We cross the street into the dockside park. Dog just paces with us, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, so I'd say she'd average keeping up. As we leave the park, it was time for our 1-minute walk, and the dog ran ahead of us. It wasn't until we got back to the store that we found out she had kept up with the runners (the ones who don't stop for one minutes breaks). Dog ran four miles. She came back with the rest of us. We all get water (kakabeka springs), and I realized the dog would want some. No problem. I used a cup, and poured her some from my bottle. Reticent at first, she changed her mind, and had two cups of water before we were done. She had tags, but I didn't take the time to read them. Someone else figured out the dog was the mascot of the Shelter House across the street. That's the place people end up eating and sleeping if they have no better home. The television shows (fugitive and hobo) were both of a predictable similar format. Our hero arrives in a new town. Doesn't know anyone, but says hi to somebody, and makes a friend or acquaintance. Someone notices how smart the hero is, perhaps because they tie knots differently, or seem to understand spoken words better than most. We now take some time to learn about the new friend. He could be dying of illness. Or she could be an abused person, ready to run. He might be young, and having problems at school. Introduce the bad guys, if there are any. Perhaps the US marshall. Or the persons insensitive to the problems. The people so full of the work of life, they don't dream any more. Tragedy strikes. Someone, maybe badguy, maybe goodguy, has an accident. Now our hero's true colours come through. Calls police convincingly. Gives first aid. Feeds a diabetic life saving sugar. Turns off the gas stove. Points to the real killer. Something outstanding. Show's almost over. Badguy stops being quite so bad, and thanks the hero. Goodguys realize that their situation isn't as terrible as they thought. Everyone suddenly catches on that the hero is either about to leave, or has already disappeared. Time for another sad moment. All of the people who loved the hero understand, and say their goodbyes. We see the road. It is long. A Quinn Martin Production. I had the opportunity to think about how often I like to play the fool. Like so many choices, it has its benefits, and its painful side effects. I pay attention to the crows. We say "Crows are Sooo Smart!" And this dog I wrote about. She was sooo smart. Now think of the most stupid manager or relative you have. They are probably smarter than the crow or the dog, right? But why don't we think so? We are starting to understand my position on this 'play the fool' thing. We don't expect a dog or a crow to be a hero. So when they do something outstanding, it is recognized by any who happened to notice. Think of a doctor or a fireman. Stress comes every day for them. They work at jobs where performance at anything less than 100% correct causes repercussions. Don't agree? 99% means that for every hundred folk they meet, they save ninety nine, and lose ONE. See what I mean yet? We have high expectations of such people. I don't like being treated like a dope, but I'd rather not have to get life's politically correct decisions right every single time because it is expected of me. At our Scottish dances I make light of whatever I can as often as I can. People can take these things so seriously, especially just before a performance. I remember choreography well, but tend towards error when I try too hard. Here is another perspective on the same idea I'm trying to express. I remember when I tried to meet new people. If I felt they were amazing perfect sexy specimens, I became nervous and tongue tied. Under almost identical circumstances, if for some reason, I was *NOT* interested in these people, (for example, I was in a relationship) then the nervous reaction didn't occur. Remember the television shows? I'm wondering how many times I've confused being smart with being confident? In my case, as long as my humour is intact, my confidence remains as well. That is, as long as I play the fool, I feel intelligent, and don't screw up so much. - - My locker was broken into today. Again. Same people as once before. How do I know? Same style. 1. my locker was forced open (lock still on the door). 2. coat removed 3. coat NOT taken, nor the keys 4. coat and contents stuffed into filthy toilet, just because. Also, others lost clothing at the same incident. This happened today between 330pm and 500pm. One kid was sad because they took HIS SHIRT. I've advised the club that they should supervise this room. The kids at the Front Desk just sit waiting. That's all. They have handheld walkie talkie things, and use a computer to record entry to facility, and cash people pay for day use. (many folks just pay for the day for swimming, rather than buy a membership or attend a weekly class with fee). So I'm thinking for at least some of the time, there should be a place where such front desk people can sit. A station. Sometimes it is manned, sometimes not. It would discourage the lawless kids who use it now, during low business periods. I'll write to the leader of the complex, and get permission to use a higher security area, where there is an extra set of locked bars. The only thing that was taken (and kept) was some magnetic dolphins. These are lights I wear in my left ear when biking at night. They flash brightly, and make me feel safe. I got them from a recent children's festival here, and have not seen them on sale elsewhere. - - Some kids had bike trouble today. I was riding away from the complex, and I saw two young ones, dealing with their bikes on the sidewalk. I carry a pocket knife pliers utility thing. It's not great, but I was able to reconnect their rear wheel. - - The next door neighbours are away for a week. So I'll visit Hugo the Cat once or twice each day. He's is Exceptionally lonely. Followed me around everywhere. On the weekend, I'll (gulp) have to get up early and deliver papers. Sat Sun they arrive 630am, to be delivered before 800am. Also they deliver fliers, so these arrive Sat afternoon, for delivery Sunday before 500pm. - - I'm going to do some laundry, and some more cleaning of surfaces before the day runs out. It was *very* cold this morning. So cold I turned the heat on for five minutes to get the chill out of the place. The sun came out around 330, as I was at the gym. Still sunny and nice now. That's all I know.