carol's kitchen

Tuesday, August 08, 2017

I SAID I WAS DONE BUT I LIED

BINGO

If I won the $360 million powerball jackpot on Saturday I’d buy the Fettig brothers’ property for however much they want and send them away happy. Then I’d buy me some friendly, bright-eyed politicians, hire Anthony Scaramucci to take care of the good old boys in the back room, and fix up Vallejo’s waterfront the way it should be.'

I’m writing today about the Florence Douglas Senior Center, on Amador Street, where I attended a Brain Training Session last week. Six students, older women, though non older than I, sat around a table in a large room for an hour and a half on Tuesday afternoon, talking, answering questions, enjoying each other’s company. Our teacher was a younger woman who exuded irresistible joy and happiness.

We enjoyed a little snack before starting the work. One woman brought a variety of gourmet cheeses and crackers, and the teacher brought fresh sliced mango and excellent mixed nuts. We settled down and were asked to come up with a word starting with the first letter of our name that tells something about us. The introductions went around the table, starting with me, who chose clever. Loretta was lonely, which made me sad, although the others made me laugh. We were asked to write the names of 10 different green vegetables, which brought about a pleasant conversation. Then we answered a page full of difficult questions, such as where was Abraham Lincoln born, and what’s the northernmost city in the world? I only knew a few answers. The conversation was lively. I felt safe and comfortable with the women, who were as smart as I am — probably smarter.

Time flew. The teacher gave us homework. I’d had a good time, met interesting people, enjoyed some pleasant chit chat, but was skeptical about the work. As far as I could tell my brain was the same.
I returned home and got busy on the patio. I cut down all the dried pea vines, cleaned up the vegetable box, and picked a bunch of red chard for my dinner. I carried a big bag out to the trash, prepped the chard, and sat down to work on my novel. I felt bright, clear and alert, and calm. Happy, too.

I realized that somehow, my brain had been trained. It had gotten a workout while I was having a good time in that room with those women in the Senior Center, and the teacher who made it feel like fun. Now I’m looking forward to next time. Five bucks per class, two Tuesdays a month. A deal.
I want to praise the Florence Douglas Senior Center on Amador Street. Next time I’ll go early and have the Meals on Wheels lunch, which is served in the next room, with a live jazz band entertaining the diners. Pass the Jell-O and deal me in.

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