Friday, December 30, 2011

high school volleyball, friends, and dogs

emily, on her way to tsfat. winter 2007.

i picked emily because she was the only dog at the shelter in harlem who was not barking and jumping up and down when we walked through the room of cages. she was the only dog who looked pathetic, as if nobody would ever pick her, as if she didn't expect anyone would even want her. it was almost like she'd given up hope of being chosen. that was what made me decide i had to have her--even after adam offered to go to another shelter or to come back another day.
"no--this is the one," i said. the shelter worker took her out of the cage on a leash and we brought her to the yard out back. adam walked her around but i was a bit nervous. i'd never had a dog before.
now, i knew what it was like to be picked last for teams in gym class. i knew what it was like to have the other kids not think that you were a loser per se, but to be aware that just because you might make the literature gymnastics team because you could balance shakespeare and milton, while bouncing chaucer around, didn't mean that you could do the same with a dodge ball. and the truth is, i couldn't.
at some point in high school, probably in eleventh or twelfth grade when i had finally realized that i was part of a really great group of friends and i could settle in to being me, i chose volleyball for my gym class instead of modern dance (which was probably a relief to anyone who had to bear witness to my eternally ungraceful self attempting to do plies and back attitudes and random leaps across the floor in time to mr. goring's tribal drumbeats.) it was possibly in my second or third cycle of volleyball that i was chosen as a team captain. finally, i felt, i had the power to make some sort of a difference. i didn't choose the jocks for my team. i chose the people i trusted, the people i knew would make good teammates, the people i knew i could count on. i chose my friends, all of whom were pubbies (we spent our free time in the publications' office, putting together the various newspapers and magazines that circulated within our school,) and all whom i could depend on. the jocks just sort of stood on the sidelines, waiting to be picked, loudly sucking their teeth when they finally knew what it felt like to be picked last.
i wore the bruises and welts on my arms with pride. i spent our class tournaments smiling as we lost game after game. the sense of pride in our sportsmanship, the sense of joy in our lack of accomplishment, the sense of overwhelming love i felt for my teammates--my friends--was just unreal. my lack of competitiveness was probably just as unreal. playing well was important, but having fun was more important. and even more important than that, was knowing that the people on my team were picked first because to me, they should have been first all along.
when i picked emily, i knew she had to be mine. she was the real underdog. she wasn't the floppy-eared cocker spaniel who some doe-eyed family would adopt based on the cute factor. she was the dog i was meant to have, the dog who gave me the chance once again to not leave her standing alone at the side of the gym while the popular kids got picked first.
for twelve years, emily gave me that gift of remembering what is important in choosing friends. i look back fondly over my sweet puppy's full life, and i thank her for all of the memories, the love, and for allowing me to choose her for my team.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

it's that time again....

bells jingling, snow falling, faces smiling.... eight nights of pyrotechnics, decorated trees, and of course all of the drinking and pill-popping you're doing to get through this time of year--how could you not love it? and if you thought it was great before you started turning tricks in order to pay for that new video game system/american girl doll/iphone/random appliance, well, there are now some interesting new alternatives to those waaaay too typical gifts! and what are they? you ask. well, i'll tell you....

bec's short list of  interesting gift basket ideas 

having trouble finding a gift for that one friend who is terribly anal? how about a bathroom basket? each bathroom basket comes tightly packed with your choice of toilet paper: cheap and scratchy, soft and shreddy, or expensive and tufted. but that's not all you get! no fewer than five specially selected enemas will be included (in their original packaging, of course!), as well as a lovely array of tucks medicated pads and hemorrhoidal cream. but wait, there's more! because we understand that some people are just extremely uptight, we have included, for their sitting comfort, disposable sanitary toilet seat covers. these would have been great during the plague!


know someone who is tightly strung? or maybe he/she is stringing you along, perhaps? how about the string basket? all baskets include a variety of string products, including: silly string in fun colors! (colors may vary), dental floss, tampons (yes, they can be used to decorate your tree!), antique red and white or blue and white bakery string from the metal canister that used to hang in allenby's bakery in brooklyn, some nice thick ropes (great for role play and/or for reenacting the exodus), string beans, and guitar strings!

everyone has an ocd neat-freak in their lives, right? you know, the uncle who can't stop cleaning? the mother who has bags under her eyes from scrubbing til dawn, but at least the tile grout behind her toilet is clean? the friend you hate because she follows you around with a sponge and a coaster? welcome to the clean panic basket. because every ocd neat-freak should have a clean panic every now and then. it makes the rest of us feel better. all baskets come packed with: an over-filled container of baby powder, a dozen cartonless eggs, an uncapped bottle of purple grape juice, blueberry jam, a plastic bag of red sauce, an uncovered hooker-red lipstick, and thousands of tiny sparkles that fly out all over when the recipient opens the basket--what fun!!

these are just a few items that will make your holiday season a memorable one. so relax, enjoy, and get your specialty baskets before they all sell out!