A strange thing happened to me this week. And it is something I have to write about it because I do not fully understand it. I had been reading about microorganisms in a high school biology book And with a nervous habit of touching my moustache when I am bored or nervous, I think I partly, psychosomatically convinced my body to incorporate some kind of virus or bacteria into my constitution. I inoculated myself through the nose or mouth. Somehow I got some kind of bug that the symptoms were very strange. Every time I would stand up from a seated position. I would practically pass out. The first morning I noticed this was when I got out of bed and almost fell flat on my face. Other than almost passing out, there were no other symptoms except for sneezing a few times a day for about 5 to 6 days. At one point I was trying to install a trap on a stainless steel sink that I putting in my basement. When I got up off of the floor, I almost fell on the concrete floor. It was a little scary but I passed out long enough that it reminded me of what life was like before I had this body. It was dark peaceful and pleasant. And I thought to myself if this is all that death is then bring it on. And it got me thinking about all of my near death experiences. The more experiences of this type anybody has had the easier that the big one is going to be. I never considered that this could be a virus or a bacteria. I thought it might be a heart thing. So I made a mental note to go see Dr.Bernacki about my condition. But since I had my blood work done, and my cholesterol was all good, I was less concerned about it being my heart. Then after a couple of days instead of almost falling on my face every time I got up, I just felt a little light headed. Eventually I figured it was some kind of infection that prevented oxygen to get to my brain. Maybe whatever it was attacked the blood vessels going to my brain or maybe my heart. This self diagnosis reminded me of when I was in the Peace Corps and went awol and hitchhiked to South Africa and applied to medical school. I figured where would be a better place to be a doctor than anywhere in sub Sahara Africa? At the school that I applied to they didn’t believe that I hitchhiked from Zaire to South Africa. I got all the applications but I never followed through. I had so many diseases over there I got into the habit of self diagnosis. Malaria, month long diarrhea, flu’s, colds, bad water, bad booze, woman – ‘tu pese beucoup mon cherie’. Anyhow hitchhiking in South Africa was interesting. There are a lot of porches and Mercedes with white people driving them. And they had the need to explain their political situation down there. Some wanted to know what do you want to teach them Kafirs? How to kill you? They considered Zaire the true Africa. And some of them were surprised that I had just come from there. Well I ate my ostrich at the restaurants that I visited, and I drank some strong South African beer and headed back to Zaire before anybody figured out that I was gone. One thing that I did in Zaire was dream big. There was too much going on around me. The idea to go to South Africa came from a Dutch volunteer that I met and he was a physical therapist. Since there was no leather in Zaire to help crippled people he started a very successful tannery. What started out a mission to help crippled people turned into tanning hides for big game hunters. He did this for six years then went to South Africa to medical school. But before he left he did implement leather for braces for the many hobbled in Kananga’s only hospital. He was a creative guy. He hand carved a big piece of wood into a commode that he placed over the hole in his w.c.. I went fly fishing with him on the Sancuru River. He was a hell of a mechanic. He diagnosed a problem on my motorcycle by just listening . The clash of cultures over there was really diverse. Besides all the African tribes, I met diamond dealers from Britain. Doctors from Belgium. big game hunters from Saudi Arabia. Businessmen from Portugal. Nurses from Ireland. Chicken farmers from Israel. Dam builders from Italy. Truck drivers from Greece. Tourists from Switzerland. Missionaries from France. Physical therapists from Holland. Optometrists from Canada. Just about everything from India and Pakistan. Civil engineers from South Africa. And in one way or another I either socialized with these people or I heard about them. And I learned a lot about the world.

After work today I had to walk over the former bridge to nowhere, where I was parked. Walking over this bridge I was in a strange mood. I had just worked the daylight shift and I never feel too rested on this shift. Anyhow, about halfway over the bridge. I noticed a perfectly intact windowpane floating in the middle of the river. And I had to stop on the bridge, lean over the railing to take a good look at this strange sight. The window was framed by the light from the sun glaring off the water around it. Once again I was regretting not having my camera. The current in the river was almost nonexistent so the window didn’t look like it was going anywhere. I even contemplated getting into my truck and going and getting my camera. But I decided I was too tired for that. I know the image now in my mind is better than the picture would have been, had I taken one. Some day I will get together some cameras and take all the pictures that I seem to always see. I wanted to go down to the river and open that window up. Maybe that is why writing may always be superior to photography. Because the images in writing are leaving more to the imagination, where as a photograph is too truthful. And writers do not have to always carry a camera. I remember my uncle telling me a story about when he was a young photographer for the Pittsburgh Press. He was walking along the riverfront on his lunch break when the boiler on the Delta Queen river boat blew up sending parts of the boat all over the river bank. He called his boss at the paper to tell him what was happening. I don’t need to mention what his boss said to him when he told him that he didn’t have his camera with him. Its funny because I never can remember seeing my uncle without a camera wrapped around his shoulder.

I made a discovery recently that bodes well for my fantasy of living in a hot climate for an extended period of time. I made some solar yogurt with some really old powdered milk. The expiration date on it was like four years overdue. It had a little bit of an off flavor. But when I made yogurt out of it the off flavor dissappeared because the live bacteria converted a lot of the old milk into new yogurt, changing the milk physically and chemically. This would be a pleasant surprise for a lot of places in the Third World that do not follow expiration dates. I remember one time in Zaire eating 7 year old oatmeal from South Africa that tasted like it was a 100 years old. The only time I ever use powder milk here in the good ol’ U.S.A. is when I put it in tea or coffee. That was how I knew that this particular powdered milk had an off taste. The taste was not bad enough to prevent me from drinking the tea but it was noticable. The solar yogurt that I made started with a quart of regular store bought milk in a carton then I added two cups of the old powderded milk. Then I sat it on the roof of my shed in the back yard. I had to add a tablespoon of plain Dannon yogurt to get the whole thing started. Then I laid a black t-shirt over top of the casserole bowl to absorb all the sun’s rays better. When I put a thermometer under the sweat shirt it was reading exactly 100 degrees. Perfect for yogurt production. I let it sit up there all day. That night I brought it in and it was pretty thick. If you get a cloudy day you can put the bowl back out in the sun another day to obtain the thickness you want. But this batch was already good. So I poured about a cup and a half into a tall glass. And to this I added about a half a glass of orange Gatorade. Then I added about a quarter cup of my grains and a little honey. Mixing it all together with a spoon. Then I drank it down. It tasted like a liquid orange Popsicle. The next night I did the same thing. Only on top of everything else I added a mashed up bannana. And this tasted like a liquid orange Popsicle with banana flavor. That night I slept like a baby. Bananas have a lot of the amino acid, tryptophan, that helps to induce sleep. Milk also has an ingredient that helps to bring on slumber but I cannot remember what it is. Milk, bananas and oatmeal all have plenty of potassium which helps to prevent the Charlie horses that come on sometimes in the middle of the night. Anyhow knowing that yogurt can convert lousy tasting old powdered milk into something tasty and nutritious is good to know. Especially if I find myself somewhere in a sunny part of the globe. I could probably carry enough powdered milk and grains to last me a couple of years. It would be nice to escape the rat race for a couple of years. I could pick up a foreign language and watch the palm trees grow. Well even if this is not likely to happen anytime soon, I can still fantasize about it.

It was the first day of school this week. And I just happened to fix up my bicycle. I put new brake shoes on it. And was trying to figure out how to balance the wheel so it does not wobble. After playing with it for a while I took it for a ride. I was just riding around the neighborhood when I was coming up on some highschool kids coming home from school. So I laid on them the customary questions like what school do you go to? And do you take Spanish? They told me their school. And the one student said that he was taking Spanish. So I says to him in como-como te llamas? And before his friend could say he’s a dumb ass he answered the question in Spanish correctly, instinctively. So my hat is off to the Spanish teachers at Allderdice high school. This is one of the better schools in Pittsburgh. Later in the day since everybody has been bitching about the price of gas, I decided to take the bike grocery shopping. The store is about 8 blocks away. Its about a half hour to walk it. I have to admit pulling into the grocery store is a hell of a lot easier on a bike than a car. I bought about 10 items including a gallon of Gatorade. At the cash register I bagged my own groceries because I knew it was going to be a challenge getting these home on the bike. I double bagged everything. I had three bags on each side of the handlebars inside the break handles. A few acquaintances of mine took notice of me on the bike and said hello as they rode by in their cars. Something that would not happen if I were hidden in my car. I took more notice of people walking on the streets. And I acknowledged the people at the bus stop when I went by. There seems to be some social advantages taking the bike to the store rather than the car. At least when the weather is nice. I think I might have even made healthier selections to eat at the store because I was moving my fat ass to carry these food items home. It was a little tricky balancing the bike with the 6 bags at the intersections. It was also a little fun because I could make eye contact with all the drivers there. Any how, after getting home and unloading the food instead of eating like I usually do after shopping, I took the bike to the park and rode around for a while. Then I rode around Carnegie Mellon University. Where I stopped for a rest to watch a women’s soccer match. Then I rode past the outside vending court, where they allow outside vendors to sell food to the students out of trucks converted into little restaurants. I know one of the vendors because he used to have a Middle Eastern restaurant on the main street where I live. He sold gyros and falafel sandwiches. And he is doing the same things from the truck on campus. I talked to him about street vending back when he had the restaurant. It looked like he was doing pretty well. I related to him on this street food because that was a dream of mine to sell grains as smoothies as street food also. I was glad to see that he was doing well. I made a mental note to bring Laura back here some night to get something to eat. Laura always liked his Greek salads. They set up picnic tables next to the trucks to accommodate the students on campus. This University accommodated all these vendors by putting picnic tables around where all the trucks are parked. There is no cost to the University to allow all these street vendors sell their food. There are Indian,Thai,Chinese,Greek and Jewish vendors selling food from around the world in a small corner of this college campus. And some of them like my friend selling gyros stay open in the evenings. It may become a new food experience for non-students. All that they need are some street perfomers and musicians to go with the food.