Tenzing started skiing this winter; but I was in India, and didn’t have a chance to see him on the hill, much less to teach him myself. Thanks to my mother, and a nice late season at Kirkwood, Zing and I were able to spend the day together cutting-it-up.
I credit ski racing as the single most positive, thoroughly formative influence in my life, from which so many other great things have cascaded. It taught me invaluable lessons about the abundance and easy accessibility of joy, the power of fearlessness, the fascinating relationship between the mental and physical sides of human perfectibility, and the pleasure of kicking ass. It would not disappoint me in the least to see Zing’s obvious love of speed and well-carved turns take him in the same direction.
Continue reading ‘Feed the Need for Speed’
I leaned to my right and whispered into Tenzing’s ear so that no one else could hear. My secret message was soon shared with everyone at the table, if not everyone in the restaurant.
“Mimi,” said Tenzing, referring to my mother, “Markie said I should eat the damned food. Do you think I should eat the damned food? I’m not sure I want to eat any more of the damned food.”
Continue reading ‘Eat the Damned Food’
I was just begining to stir after an excellent night’s sleep when Tenzing announced himself excitedly at my door. “Markie,” he bellowed, “you need to come down to the garage quickly because there is a surprise for you!”
A great lover of surprises, Tenzing sped down the stairs leading from the door of the house ahead of me and disappeared around the corner. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I got my surprise: a snowball right in the chest. This was indeed unanticipated, particularly on a brilliantly sunny, 70 degree California morning.
Zing had just returned from two days in the mountains at his grandparents and, with the assistance of my sister, had packed an ice chest full of snow to bring to the Bay Area for our snowball fight.
As with most snowball fights, there was really no loser in ours.
As rights of passage go, I consider this a big one. With this afternoon’s frosty sunshine filtering through the forest of Pacific Spirit Park, Zing went for his first mountain bike ride.
Published 22 September 2007
Bio , Tenzing , Travel & Adventure
Tags: Allez les blues, Eifel Tower, Ille de la Citte, Ille Saint Louis, Irish, Jardins du Trocadero, jet lag, Les Blues, Marais, midnight, night bus, Notre Dame, Paris, Paris metro, Place de la Concorde, policemen, prostitutes, Quai D'Orsay, Rugby World Cup
Getting over jet lag is as much a matter of will as of inevitability. That determination can be a bit hard to summon when it is time to roll out of bed in the morning or sleepiness descends in the mid-afternoon. Especially, when you are four.
Not surprisingly, Tenzing is wide awake, and quite chatty, every night when most of the rest of Paris is sound asleep.
Continue reading ‘Jet Lag’
Published 30 April 2007
Bio , India , Tenzing , Travel & Adventure
Tags: autorickshaw, backwaters, Betsy Jacobs, Chennai, Chennai Central, Deepa Krishnan, elephant, India, Kerala, Kochi, Kochin, Kuruchikuppam, Madras, Madurai, Malgudi, Namaste, Pondicherry, Puru Kothari, sleeper bus, Sri Aurobindo Ashram, Tamil, Tamil Nadu, Tenzing, Varalaxmi Krishnan
More than one friend has complained that I have neglected to report on Tenzing’s visit to South India at the end of March. I have been a bit busy. But better late than never.
Continue reading ‘Malgudi Days’