My Back Yard

"You have so much presence, I was so impressed." The visitor to my Toastmasters club made my day when she said that during the break after my speech.

I didn’t feel especially impressive. Aside from reading my draft through several times at home and then stumbling through it without notes — until I took a wrong turn — while driving to the club, I hadn’t practiced my speech.

I think I’ve learned to identify three to five main points of my speech and focus on those. I don’t go crazy trying to memorize my speech. When I practice, I try to identify a few places to pause for humor. 

My evaluator liked that I tied my intro to my speech. I forgot my book, so I don’t have any of his written comments. 

One of my goals for 2007 is to achieve a more peaceful home. Getting rid of excess stuff is part of the process.

I read a good tip for junking unused clothes. Go into your closet and place all of your hung items backwards on the rod. If you haven’t reversed the hangers in six months, toss the clothes.

Iggy, who bicycles 22 miles roundtrip to work twice a week during the summer, has me beat in the fitness department.

He charges up the stairs from our fifth floor stateroom on the Pride of Hawaii to the 12th floor pool deck without pausing. He’s at top of the stairs as I huff and puff my way onto the 10th floor. Sometimes I cop out and hop on the elevator. He still beats me.

So it was no surprise when Iggy sprinted ahead of me on the 10% grade uphill toward Hilo’s Rainbow Falls. We’d rented one-speed bikes, the only option offered by Tom in the Hilo Terminal. So I struggled with every rotation of the pedals. I confess. I dismounted and walked my bike for a couple of spurts.

Eventually we reached the falls, where several people from the big tour bus that passed us on the hill said, "We were rooting for you." We also met a man in a moped protective suit reminiscent of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. He told us that he’d found the uphill tough when he made the ascent on a 21-speed bike. That, plus the rainbow arching across the bottom of the falls, made me feel better.

My spirits picked up even more on the ship, when I discovered my hidden talent. After watching a couple of white-haired gents descend the waterslide, Iggy and I decided to try it.

Iggy the adventurous went first, while I protected our table and chairs on the smoke-free side of the Waikiki Beach pools. He returned without a smile, but offering plenty of advice. "Try arching your back or lifting your butt off the slide." He had a hard time moving his body. "They’re not feeding enough water into the slide, so it doesn’t carry you," he said.

Off I went. As I climbed the spiral staircase, winding around a pillar one shade deeper pink than Pepto-Bismol, I wondered why I was taking on a challenge Iggy couldn’t master. But some other adults were in front of me, which boosted my courage.

At the top of the slide, the supervisor told me to lean forward toward my toes. "Hmm, that’s not what Iggy said," I thought. But it sounded more comfortable than Iggy’s technique, so I tried it.

Whee! I flew down the sunny yellow corkscrew, accelerating at a dizzying speed, with my fingers almost touching my toes. It felt as if my ride would never end. Or as if I might gurgle down a drain. Then I roared into the landing pool with a splash. Success!

 P.S. I wrote this on the boat. Later on, Iggy mastered the slide at a hotel pool. I must give him credit.