The SOSO dance

I set out on my walk early this morning with a swarm of worries buzzing around my head like mosquitoes ranging in size from mammoth (What if my mom doesn't get well enough to go home from rehab, or what if she gets well enough to go home but isn't able to respond appropriately if my dad has another stroke?) to middling (What if my car breaks down again or my health insurance won't cover this h0nking big bill?) to minuscule (Mice in my car: gone for good or merely hiding?). Two hours later I returned with an entirely different set of worries buzzing around my mind and a brilliant plan for solving the debt-ceiling stalemate.

Let's start at the beginning: oppressive heat and humidity have shortened my walks this week, but last night a heavy rain cooled things down considerably so that this morning I was determined to walk the full six-mile loop. Fog still clung to the creek and clouds hid the sun when I left the house, so I didn't bother wearing a hat, which was my first mistake, unless you think that getting out of bed this morning was my first mistake, which is certainly a defensible position.

I climbed the twisty road up the hill through the foggy woods, wishing for gills to help me breathe the moist, drippy air. I was about two miles into my walk on the top of the ridge when the clouds suddenly parted and the sun broke through, walloping me on the head like a whale falling from the sky. I should have interpreted this as a portent: Go back! No good can come from following this mad course! But I ignored it and pressed on, and soon the clouds returned and provided some relief from the oppressive heat, although I kept wishing I could trade in my puny water bottle for a tanker truck full of water and a very long straw.

I had just reached the halfway point when my bum hip went "click." Now I've heard that click before and I know what it portends: pain, discomfort, and difficulty walking. If I change my gait to lessen the hip pain, my knees starts screaming. I can't quite believe that I've reached the age when I can whine tediously and at great length about my aching joints, but out there in the middle of nowhere there was no one to hear me whine so why bother?

Halfway through the route--nothing to do but to keep walking. I did some stretches in the middle of the road and then hobbled down the hill (step, ouch, step, ouch, step, ouch), worrying about maintaining my footing on the steep gravel slope until I finally reached level ground near the creek.

Where mosquitoes live. By the millions. Hungry mosquitoes looking for a meal--me!

And then I went around the curve by a cornfield and the horseflies found me.

And then the thunder started.

It didnt' take me long to perfect a new dance step: Step (Ouch) Slap (Ouch) Swat (Ouch) Sweat (Ouch) Step (Ouch)--repeat enough times and it'll take you home in a hurry. Mission accomplished! There's nothing like a little mind-numbing pain to motivate superhuman speed.

Which brings me to the current debt-ceiling crisis. Here's my proposal: take all our elected officials and strand them in the middle a hot, humid, pest-ridden swamp; take away their cell phones, give them each a single water bottle, and tell them they can't go back to their cushy offices until they work out a solution. A few rounds of the Step (Ouch) Slap (Ouch) Swat (Ouch) Sweat (Ouch) Step (Ouch) Dance are bound to motivate some progress.