We slept past nine. I slapped a Salonpas on my ribs, drank two pots of decaf and propped-up my feet on an ottoman. I watched out the windows, waiting for the snow to start. We got in after one o’clock last night. Susan picked me up at the airport when my plane landed. My three-day trip to Montana to move Sophie out of her apartment came off without a hitch. No delayed flights, easy connections, aisle seats the whole way. My only hiccup, I pulled a chest muscle… again. Even that happened on the last carload to the storage facility. Yes, it hurt(s), but it didn’t disrupt moving.

Every commercial intersection in Missoula has at least one casino and marijuana dispensary. I didn’t count them, mostly because I never knew where I was, so I would have counted the same ones over and over, but I don’t know how they all stay open. Even if everyone in town is a stoned gambler, I can’t believe there is enough vice to keep all those businesses afloat.

Sophie drives home later this week. Arches National Park, the Great Sand Dunes, and then a straight shot east. “Kansas?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she says “I really want to drive across Kansas?” I’ll make her a playlist: Carry on My Wayward Son, Point of No Return, Dust in the Wind, Play the Game Tonight. All my favorite songs from ninth grade. I’ll add Come Sail Away. Not Kansas, but essentially the same thing.

Late afternoon, Lemon Ginger tea. Snow is falling, my feet still up. Or at least up again. Under a blanket now. Milking the winter vibe. Things checked off my to-do list: Buy hearing aid batteries, send an email, go for a walk. Easy stuff, lazy stuff. Take a shower and shave. Yes, that was on my list, too. I set a low bar today. It’s the chest muscle. Demotivating, demoralizing. Leaves me sour. I’m instructing two spin classes this week. That muscle-pull could derail me. I have a new employer now. From now on, I conduct classes at the YMCA. Last week it was the YWCA. The acquisition happened on Tuesday. “YMCA/YWCA, same/same.” you say.

Not hardly.

YWCA = Eliminating racism, empowering women.

YMCA = Put Christian principles into practice through programs that build healthy spirit, mind and body for all.

Being a non-Chirstian for social justice, I obviously align more easily with the YWCA mission. But it’s a spin class. I don’t overtly empower women, eliminate racism, or promote Christianity in any of my classes. Although I have some Christmas songs in my playlists this week, so that might help. I’ve got a Jewish song too. I googled ‘Is it offensive to play Hava Nagila as a Christmas song?’ This is what I learned: In December of 2007, when Lauren Rose released her disco/dance version of Hava Nagila, it immediately climbed high in the voting for the UK’s best Christmas song. Since I was already planning to use the Lauren Rose version, I think I’ve got it covered. The UK teenagers say it’s OK.

The countdown on the front page of the Gettysburg Times says ten days until Christmas. With no kids at home, Susan and I have ignored it so far. That leaves me with mixed feelings. In the past, I often felt like I was appropriating Christmas. This year, I feel like I’m missing out. Regardless, as the calendar days tick past, we lose more and more opportunity to celebrate commercially. We’re probably already bumping against the online ordering window. O, my children, if you’re reading this, expect an austere Christmas this year.

Last Wednesday, I saw the oral surgeon for approval to get a crown to replace the tooth I broke below the gumline last February. A technician took my X-Ray and left it up on the screen while she went to grab the doctor. A quick glance at that X-Ray, and I knew it would adorn my next blog post. I quickly snapped a photo of it before the doctor arrived. This image was too Terminator/sci-fi to pass up.

Thanks for humoring my random free associations on this almost winter afternoon. Take a few minutes to enjoy Lauren Rose’s version of Hava Nagila parenthetically titled (Baby Let’s Dance).