Field
Notes - Dispatch 17 – The Desert Oasis, California
Wednesday,
January 14, 2014
Greetings
Fellow Adventurers!
As you have seen on various television programs, everyone is very
active down here in SoCal. You cannot imagine how annoying this is.
As an Idaho native my idea of aerobic activity is to sprint to the
kitchen and forage for a snack. Down here if you don't go to the gym
and play at least three sports most people assume you are recovering
from surgery and will be back on the team shortly. It is enough to
make you hide and take a nap.For instance, a local chap here at the country club (why are there no pastry clubs?) talked me into trying pickle ball. This is a sport developed so that all age levels can play, and many tennis courts are being converted as the sport has become increasingly popular. Californians play pickle ball with a passion bordering on fanaticism. Fine, I decided, I wanted to fit in. I once played tennis, and so I thought I would try it. Unfortunately, it has been several days since I played and my right arm is still so sore I am having to drink my G&Ts left handed!
This is what happened. I went to my first lesson and learned that the pickle ball is really just a, now get this, whiffle ball! I also learned that my instructor was 82 years old! I figured I would use my blistering overhand tennis serve and blow the old fellow, and everyone else playing, right off the court. I would, in fact, own this game! I was already imagining myself being the club champion and enjoying all the perks that come with the title. Perks like discounts on snack cakes at the club house.
Well, forty five minutes later, at the end of my lesson, I was helped off the court, limping and cradling my poor arm. I was in so much pain I was sure there was permanent neurological damage. (MR says she is sure I already had permanent neurological damage but not in my arm.) Turns out my coach has won seven gold medals in three years of semi-professional competition and seemed upset with my cocky attitude. I had not been beat up that bad since last year's “Free Introduction to Yoga” class in which the instructor almost murdered me. Honestly, where do they get these instructors? I suspect they are sleeper terrorists who are assassinating unsuspecting Americans one game at a time.
As you can see, no matter where I am, life is pretty much the same for me. MR, however, is having a wonderful time gardening, reading, and hanging out with her pals. The weather here is excellent, but we miss all of you at home. We hope you are all well. I wish I could say the same.
Please reply and let us know what you are up to.
Over and out.
Old
Trout
