Category: Life

Lessons I’ve learned through the school of hard knocks. This is my catch-all, miscellaneous category if you will, where I address topics that don’t quite fit into the other categories.

Coincidences?


Stop means stop.

Everything happens for a reason. Or so I’ve heard. I just can’t figure out why.

Anyway, a while back, I was driving in Lincoln Park on Chicago’s north side. It was dark and it was raining, which meant I couldn’t see the road very well. With my impaired visibility, combined with my occasional inattentiveness, I didn’t see a stop sign on a major street as pedestrians crossed the street. They assumed that I would stop at the stop sign. Well, I didn’t apply my foot to the brake until I saw a pedestrian directly in front of my car. I would have hit him if he wouldn’t have jumped back! We both realized that I almost ran him over. He started swearing at me and beating the hood of my car with his umbrella.

Suddenly, we look at each other’s faces in recognition. We actually know each other. “Greg!” I shout. And he stops beating my car. “Dave?” he asks in disbelief. I open my car door and he gets in. I had not seen Greg Rubenstein in about five years because he moved to Oklahoma where his company had transferred him. We used to do the print layout together for the  CARA’s magazine The Finish Line and we both ran for the University of Chicago Track Club.

He apologized for denting my hood and I apologized for almost running him over and leaving him a quadriplegic. I reminded Greg that the last time we met was for dinner at a restaurant and that he had treated, so I owed him a dinner. Just by chance, this incident occurred at dinner time, so we went out to eat.

We were both impressed by our fortuitous encounter and how it was such a coincidence. So he told me about another recent coincidence in his life; apparently his life is full of coincidences (and so is mine!). He traveled to Europe on business. He was at Heathrow Airport when someone bumped into him from behind. He soon realized that his wallet was missing! So chases the man who bumped into him. Since Greg was a runner, he’s closing in on the thief. Greg is yelling, “Stop him! He stole my wallet!” A man coming from the opposite direction tackles the pickpocket. They both hold the thief down until airport security shows up. When Greg and the Good Samaritan get a good look at each other, the man says, “Greg you are always getting in trouble!” They went to high school together!

DDR

Stranger than fiction


Filmed on the UIC campus.

I actually saw the movie Stranger Than Fiction because it was about a writer writing a novel. I liked the way the line between reality and fiction was blurred. I bought the DVD when it came out and I actually saw it soon afterwards. I only say this because I have a stack of DVDs that I bought years ago and have yet to see.

Another reason I wanted to see it was because I have a personal connection with this movie. It was filmed partly at UIC. In fact, I had to change classrooms because they filmed in my classroom.

One day, as I talked to a student in the hallway, another student said, “Did you see who just walked behind you?” Of course, I didn’t. Because I like to make eye contact when I talk to someone. Well, it was Dustin Hoffman! And I didn’t see him! People at UIC who were around the film crew said that Dustin Hoffman was actually funnier than Will Ferrell in person.

So that was my brush with greatness. And I missed it!

DDR

Dreams


Seagulls in Galveston, Texas

Last night, I had an unusual dream. I was aware that I was sleeping and that I was dreaming. I dreamed that I was driving on the expressway at night in the rain. I look ahead and I see an accident that is about to occur. I make a conscious note to myself to move one lane away from where the accident will occur. But in my dream, I am helpless to avoid this accident. Sure enough, the accident occurs, and I sideswipe two cars. I witness the accident in slow motion. I freeze and can only observe motionless until I pass the accident. I look in the rearview mirror and I see the accident, so I know I better pull over, which I do. I get out of the car to look at the damage, somehow hoping that there is none. Well, the whole passenger side of my car is damaged. I see the police pulling up to me. Suddenly, I realize that I am sleeping, and this is just a dream. I wake up and look around my bedroom and touch my pillow and blanket just to make sure I really was sleeping. I go back to sleep knowing that I didn’t wreck my car. I have another dream. I walk up to my car, and I see the damage from my previous dream. However, I’m aware that I’m dreaming now, and about how I was dreaming before. But the damage to my car seems so real now. Later, I have another dream where I try to verify if my car was actually damaged. Yes, it was. When I woke up, I was sure I would have to file a police report for the traffic accident. As I walked to my car, I make a mental note to check the passenger side of my car for damage. Only then do I realize that I have a red car and my car in my dream was a blue car that I had a long time ago. Everything about this dream gave me an eerie feeling, as most dreams do.

Airplanes


En route to solid ground

Speaking of airplanes, I don’t really like to fly.

The past few years or so–going on about twenty-five years now, if you want to know the truth–I have gone on driving vacations. I really have no desire to fly if I don’t have to. I would fly if the right opportunity came along. All I have to do is forget my last flight from Palm Springs, California, to Chicago back in 1979. Whew! What a flight!

I remember waiting in line to board the plane and just by chance I was standing behind the two flight attendants for our flight. I expressed some of my concerns about flying, such as looking out the windows and watching the wings flex up and down during the flight. I also mentioned how I didn’t like when an airplane would hit an air pocket it lose altitude suddenly. The flight attendants reassured me that that was normal during a lot of flights.  When we boarded the plane I sat directly behind the flight attendants. I jokingly asked them to hold my hand if we hit an air pocket. They just laughed, but I was serious. They told me not to worry about a thing.

Anyway, we were flying what seemed a normal, uneventful flight, except when I looked out and saw the wings flexing up and down over the Grand Canyon. The flight attendants smiled at me and reassured me that the wings were designed to flex during flight. They probably thought I was a big baby. Later, we hit an air pocket and the plane fell a little. I tried to show the flight attendants that I wasn’t scared even a little bit during that slight loss of altitude. They just smiled at me again.

Suddenly, the plane started bouncing and the pilot announced that we should all put on our seatbelts. The flight attendants sat down in front of me, put on their seatbelts, and told me not to worry about a thing. Wow, did we ever hit some turbulence! The plane shook like the Millenium Falcon when it reached warp speed. Everyone on the plane remained calm, including me.

Then we hit a major air pocket. The plane started falling and it felt like a roller coaster descending the first big drop. But it kept falling for much longer than a roller coaster. I wanted to show the flight attendants how calm I could be during this air pocket drop. Suddenly, both flight attendants started screaming. That’s when I began to worry and I looked out the window to see if the wings were still attached to the plane. I thought, if these two seasoned flight attendants are screaming like this, surely we will crash. I tapped one of them on the shoulder and asked her, “Does that mean you won’t hold my hand?” They were so embarrassed when they remembered that I was sitting behind them.

Well, needless to say, we landed safely in Chicago, otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this. And that was the last time I flew. But I’m not afraid to fly. Not really.

DDR

Here and now


GameWorks, Schaumburg, Illinois

I have always believed that I am very adaptable and that I could survive anywhere in the world.

In fact, I’ve always fantasized that if you flew me anywhere in the world blindfolded and pushed me out of an airplane, I would somehow live and prosper because of my survival skills. Since I have never gone skydiving, you would have to blindfold me and you would have to push me very firmly to get me to jump out of a perfectly fully functioning, flying airplane. Not jumping out of airplanes is one of my innate survival skills that I highly value. I have never had the urge to go skydiving. When I was in the Marines, a few of my friends wanted me to go skydiving, but I am afraid of heights, so I went to the library instead. And, thus, I live to tell this tale!

Anyway, despite knowing that I’m very adaptable and can get along with just about anyone, just about anywhere, I always get this vague feeling that I’m always in the wrong place and the wrong time. I often feel that I do not belong right here where I am right now, if you know what I mean.

It’s an eerie feeling that’s difficult to describe. No matter where I am, I feel as if I should be somewhere else. As a boy, I truly thought that I was born into the wrong family. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be born to a Mexican family because I certainly didn’t fit in. When I was in Mexico, I thought I should be in Chicago, until I returned to Chicago where I felt that I really belonged in Mexico.

I wasn’t born in the right era either. I should have been a medieval scribe of some sort. Or, I should have been born in New York City in the early 1900s. If I’m with my friends, I feel as if I should be with my sons and family. If I’m with my sons, I feel as if I should be with my girlfriend, but when I’m with her I wish I could be with her, and my sons, family, and friends.

As I write this, I feel guilty for not working on my tax return or correcting Spanish compositions. When I’m teaching, I think about how nice it would be to stay home. Now, that I’m on spring break, I miss my students. What should I do? Maybe I should jump out of a plane.

DDR