We are back after a small summer hiatus that entailed running for my life from a man in a sequined disco shirt and falling down an internet hole of people who amazingly drive worse than me. It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Also, can you have a crush on a rooster? I promise it makes sense.
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Things that Make Sense
Parking shaming. I’m not on Facebook all that much these days; however, I logged on recently, and FB immediately suggested I join a group called “Douchebag Drivers and Piss Poor Parkers of Central Oregon.” My first reaction was to judge how petty all these people are for spending their time mad about how people drive and park. But then I joined because I am nothing if not curious and sometimes a little petty. People: This group has 8,500 members and a dozen posts in the past 24 hours. Also, do you know how many people park their cars willy-nilly, not even in a parking spot, just fully stopped as if they got raptured? It’s more than one, I can tell you that. Does their poor parking make them douchebags? Unclear. But it does raise serious questions.
The life-affirming adrenaline rush of capture the flag. Do you remember how fun yard games were when you were a kid? But do you also remember how deadly serious they were? I had the opportunity to remember both this month at my brother’s 40th birthday. To celebrate, he wanted to play a humongous game of capture the flag that spanned 8 acres and two ponds. More than 40 partygoers, primarily adults, decided to join. After this experience, I’m convinced that the world can be divided into two groups: The people who would—without hesitation—jump fully clothed into a muddy pond to win a game and everybody else. Which are you? At one point, I was sprinting through the woods in my space-cat-taco dress with a grown man in a sparkle shirt (there was a disco theme) from the other team running me down. I had a moment of clarity that maybe this is what life is all about. Joy. Fear. Fun. Repeat. Then I got captured. Anyway, try to find a game of tag or capture the flag this weekend and see if it rejuvenates your soul—or maybe it just pulls your hamstring. Report back, please.
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Canadians’ knowledge of Nickelback. During the same visit to my brother’s farm, I encountered a glorious rooster named Chad Kroeger aka the lead singer of Nickelback. Now, my Canadian sister-in-law didn’t say that everyone in Canada loves Nickelback. Still, she reported that most Canadians know of them and would probably recognize Chad Kroeger on the street. Then, to prove her point, she relayed a hilarious story about how when she was younger, she and her friend were driving on a highway when they saw Chad Kroeger driving in a car next to them. So they proceeded to tail Chad Kroeger until Chad Kroeger felt the need to evade them. As a non-Canadian, I don’t have strong feelings about Nickelback either way, but I wonder which national celebrity everyone would recognize driving down the highway. T Swift? Will Ferrell? Jake from State Farm?
Things that don’t make sense
Cross-country running. My daughter experienced the teenage milestone of not making a high school sports team last week. So, as many have done before her, she regrouped and decided to try cross country to stay in shape and be part of something. However, she did have a crucial question: Could she do it if she’s not sure she likes running? Now, I have just returned to running after tearing my hamstring earlier this spring. As I ramp up a program that goes from couch to New York Marathon-ready in 10 weeks, I’ve realized that maybe I don’t really “like running” that much. I love many running-adjacent things, such as my running friends, adventures in the woods, exercise, sports requiring no gear, spaghetti, and being outside. The actual foot-in-front-of-foot motion for miles on end is not always comfortable, often difficult, and sometimes boring. I had to confess to her that, in fact, not all runners are sure they love running. But most love what running brings them. And maybe she will, too. (Other things are like that: writing, parenting, flossing, lots of jobs, making pie crust, etc).
Book things
In the club. I know you’re shocked, but I haven’t been clubbing recently. However, I do spend quite a bit of time with club sports. As I continue to query book number one, I’m starting to seriously noodle book number two, which involves at least one deranged club sports parent, potentially a crime, and some beekeeping. A natural trio. It makes no sense now, but I believe these noodles will become a complete dish soon. In the meantime, I would LOVE to hear your wild kid sports anecdotes. I caveat this all by saying that I enjoy kids' sports, have participated in the club and non-club sports for years and that most people are fun, nice, in it for the kids, and not deranged. BUT ALSO IYKYK. Looking for fodder that’s akin to Will Ferrell screaming at Brandon to “get on the bag.” Please send me your delicious dishes in the comments or via DM.
Enjoy your long weekend filled with picklebacks, crush-worthy roosters and everyone parking between the lines.
Thanks for reading,
Kelly
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