piddle paddling with putin and miserable haircuts
I hope that you are well and happy. Here, the autumn equinox arrived simultaneously with steady rain. The weekend before, however, was...
“... beautiful, Dan!” Nazy exclaimed. “Let’s walk to the Lake.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I hope she is satisfied with a walk to the Lake,” I thought. “and doesn’t plan a walk around the Lake.”
We walked... and walked... and walked... We passed Bellevue and Bürkliplatz.
“Eh, Nazy,” I said. “We’re at the end of the Lake. We can catch a tram..”
Ignoring me, Nazy charged ahead. “I want to walk to the other side.”
“I can’t hear you.’ I shouted as Nazy accelerated her pace and increased her lead.
I caught up - eventually. Panting and desperate, I surveyed the surroundings.
“Eureka!” I thought. “Let’s rent a boat and go out onto the Lake,” I said. “I wonder how big the motors are on those boats,” I thought as we walked to the rental counter.
“What’s the fastest?” I asked. “Do you have a cigarette boat?”
“We have a skiff with a 6hp motor.”
“I can generate 6hp with two rubber bands,” I thought.
“Do you have anything without a motor?” Nazy asked.
“You’ve missed the point, Nazy.” I gasped.
“We have paddle boats and row boats,” the clerk replied.
“We will take the paddle boat,” Nazy confirmed.
“A piddling-paced paddleboat?” I asked.
“If I paddle, Dan, we won’t piddle. It will be nice to be on the Lake together; it will give you a warm and fuzzy feeling.”
“Sure,” I thought. “the warm and fuzzy feeling you get when a tarantula scurries between your chest and your teeshirt.” But, since I did most of the paddling, we piddled around the Lake and the fountain on the craft that Nazy had chosen. Seeking to expand her advantage, she noted that:
“We’ve lived here 11 years, Dan, but we’ve never swam in the Lake.”
“It’s a beautiful day, dear,” I replied. “I’d dive out of this, eh, barge, if I had a towel and a proper swimming costume.”
“You’ll never swim in the Lake, Dan. It’s too cold for you.”
“Too cold? For you it is cold. !, on the other hand, laugh at frigidity. ”
“The water will get colder each day now that autumn has arrived.” Nazy continued.
“I guffaw at colder water,” I replied.
After a bit of debate, we decided that I should prove my point. We headed home. I got into my swim suit and we drove to the Kusnacht ‘beach’.
“This will be easy,” I said surveying the lake front. “There is a staircase directly into the Lake.”
“Be careful!” Nazy interjected. “There’s a lot of algae on the steps. It will be slippery.”
“Do not worry, my dear. I am sure footed,” I said as I placed my (sure) foot on the frictionless bottom step. Within nanoseconds, my feet lost contact with the planet. Fortunately, no one had turned off gravity and, accordingly, my body’s center of mass (my tailbone) was pulled downward at 32ft/sec2.
“Sure footed?” Nazy asked.
“Sure assed,” I replied as considered the best way to get into the lake without further damaging either tailbone or pride. I succeeded - after cutting my foot on a sharp rock,
“Luckily, sharks prefer warm water,” I thought as I swam, trailing blood, to deeper water. “I could qualify as head of a communist party,” I thought - aware of the exploits of Mao Tse Tung and Vladimir Putin. “Did you bring the camera?” I shouted.
“Of course,” Nazy replied. “I wish I had it ready when you slipped on the steps,” she thought. “is the water cold?”
“I smirk and giggle at cold water,” I chattered as I brushed past an ice floe. “
In a related subject, I have been using my iPad to reread some of the classics.
“How is that related?” Nazy asked.
“I thought about reading Moby Dick, the white whale that led the Titanic to the iceberg,” I replied.
In fact, I read an English translation of Les Miserables. It was, eh, long. Luckily, I had seen the musical and memorized the songs, so I had an inkling of the plot - which, I have to say, plodded, The story didn’t unfold quickly. The book was filled with digressions into French history, commentary on French royalty, heartfelt depictions of Napoleon’s grandeur and explanatory material about why Napoleon, who lost at Waterloo, was a better general than Wellington, who won.
“In fact, Nazy, I haven’t read anything this full of the unbelievable since my last visit to the Internet. This book has conjured up all the excitement of somnolent sloth. Do you think we could go...”
“You need a haircut Dan.” Nazy said - noting my discomfort.
“We’re in Zürich - so that will be expensive,” I replied.
“Well..”
“I got a haircut in Dijon for €11 (about 13 Francs) and one in Los Angeles for $20. It will cost an arm and a leg here..”
“They’re going to cut your hair, not your arm or leg.”
“The last time I had a haircut in Zürich, it cost 105 Francs, so I guess you’re right. Arm and leg was an exaggeration. Maybe just a finger and toe.”
“I will cut your hair for free,” Nazy replied.
“The last time you cut my hair it all stuck out.”
“That’s because you were impatient while I was cutting.”
“I was impatient after my ear began bleeding and when you began to measure the length of each hair before you actually deployed the scissors.”
“The number of hairs you have is so low that cutting them one at a time is an appropriate approach.”
“Well, Nazy, Instead of going to your salon and having Rafael and Sasha flutter around my head, can’t we just find a simple barber shop - one that charges based on the percentage of head with hair?”
We couldn’t - but we did find a deal a bit more costly than Los Angeles, but much cheaper than our previous Zurich experience.
Dan swimming in Lake Zurich
