Chuck Lin

Life in a fish bowl

Greenwood Cemetary

Went to Greenwood Cemetary with Hannah and Todd. Then went to see an Argentinian movie, The Secret of their eyes. Saw this while heading home, a perfect end to an excellent day.

Today I thank: Hannah, Todd, Danielle, Terri

I can practice for 100 years and never have what this guy has.

Strange Men in the Night

In August of 2007, I was in terrible health. My doctor recommended that I start physical rehab, but start slowly. I wasn’t sure what to do, so Joyce recommended that I practice yoga. I found a little studio in Palm Beach Gardens Florida. It was in an upstairs unit of a business park. It seemed dark and quiet, just what I needed. I walked in and spoke to the instructor, Jamar, who assured me that I’ll be able to go my own pace and flexibility is not a requirement.

I arrived early the next day and strategically placed my mat at the back of the class. The only other person in the studio was Terri. We started a conversation and discovered that we were both there to recover from surgery.

Over the next few months, Terri was my yoga-buddy. It’s good to have a yoga buddy, it insures that you show up instead of slacking off to watch TV. Terri also enjoyed walking on the beach, which was another good exercise for me. We spent a lot of time doing yoga, walking her dog ( Little Bob ) and making fun of Larry, a beach-goer who had a major crush on Terri.

Terri was going through a divorce, which at the time of this writing has yet to be concluded. She was still sharing the house with her husband which meant that she was happy to be out at any time. She would drive 1/2 out to go to dinner, movie, grocery shopping, beach, or even to come to my neighborhood to take Little Bob for  a walk. We became very close friends. It’s good to have someone who you can talk to while going through a major life change.

I had been to Terri’s house a couple of times to help with hauling hay for her horses. For a city slicker like me, her place seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

Late one night I received a phone call from Terri. She sounded very upset and I could barely understand what she was saying in midst of the crying. One of Terri’s other dogs had died (not Little Bob). She have had this dog for many years, and she found the dog dead in the living room. She wanted to know if I would go help her bury the dog in the yard.

I drove to Terri’s place to find that she had wrapped the dog in a blanket. We moved the dog outside next to the drive way on a patch of grass where one of Terri’s horses had been buried years ago. Terri’s husband Bill was not home and probably would not have helped her anyway.

So the two of us began the task of burying this dog. Terri held a flashlight and I dug the hole. About half way through the digging, Bill’s truck pulls up to the drive way. He sat in the truck 20 feet away and watched for a few seconds. Then he pulled up to the garage, got out of the truck and went inside.

When the hole was completed, we lowered the blanket in, had a moment of silence and I quickly filled the hole and left.

I had never met Bill, and he had never said a word to me. What must be going through his mind as he watched the two of us digging a hole in the yard in the dark?

Later on I found out from Terri that during part of the divorce proceedings, one of Bill’s grievances was that “strange men would show up in the middle of the night”.

I guess that aptly describes me: Strange Man.

Today I thank: Terri, Little Bob, Joe, Mom, Simcha

Urban Golf

Played a round of urban golf with Patrick. Check him out on my 100 people project.

That was a lot of fun. I love my new project. It was a beautiful day, spent with great people.

This was one of those spectacular days that you can’t wait to tell your friends about. I called up Patrick and we met at 2pm on his usual corner. When I got there I met Ben, who wanted to record Patrick for a radio show.

Patrick was not quite ready to start the game as he was still setting up his street photo gallery. Ben and I spent some time getting to know each other. He’ll be on 100peopleproject.com soon.

Patrick dragged a NYC garbage can from the corner down to the end of the lot. We emptied the plastic bag of milk containers and grabbed the clubs stashed behind a wall and were ready to start.

Patrick went first, showing me a few key pointers for proper street golf form. Then it was time for me to hit a few. I kept my head down as instructed and paid attention to the “ball”. After a few minutes of hitting, I shifted my gaze and noticed that a huge crowd of people have assembled to watch. People showed up with cameras to capture the moment, and each time I hit a ball well, the crowd cheered. Some even offered analysis of my swing.

When I was done, Ben joined in to also hit a bag of cartons. Forget journalistic objectivity, this is street golf dammit!

A few kids in the audience asked to play and joined us. The first kid came in and on his third shot, made the basket.

The. Crowd. Went. Wild.

People were calling their friends about the incredible shot, and for a moment this was a big as a hole-in-one at the US Open. Dozens of people shared a joyous moment on a street corner in New York City.

I needed to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t all a dream.

Today I thank: Patrick, Ben, Terri, WW, LB’s mom