Stevieslaw: Cousin Myron Reflects
I don’t often hear from Myron’s wife Marsha. We decided, independently, that limiting our discussions to just the state of our respective children’s well-being would do much to promote world peace. When Marsha does call, it means that some new and unusual craziness has come upon Myron—whose normal crazy seems to most, nearly boundless. As perhaps you know, Myron is my favorite cousin, an idiot-savant with such a remarkable facility in mathematics, that it allowed him to make gobs and gobs of money betting on the ponies. In many ways, Myron is the anti-Trump and many people are still angry with him for dropping out of the presidential race.
Marsha wanted to know why Myron would take down all of the mirrors in the house—including the ones in the bathrooms. Myron is a year older than I. We are both old enough for social security and medicare and all those senior’s perks that gray hair buys you at the local businesses. He had children late, however, and his twin teenagers are taking the loss of mirrors very, very hard. “They think it’s a statement on their excessive vanity,” she said.
I had to confess to Marsha, that as expert as I was in all things Myron, I hadn’t a clue why he would take the mirrors down. “I’ll think about it,” I told her, although we both knew I was lying.
As coincidence would have it, I started a new yoga class that day at a spanking new facility. I recommend yoga. An hour away from the real world for ten or fifteen dollars is a real bargain. I noted with a smile that the studio had one full wall of mirrors—maybe, I would be enlightened about Myron’s strange behavior. For the first set of “warrior” exercises, I faced away from the mirrored wall. Those of you my age or older don’t have to be told that inside every “senior” resides a fantastically fit “twenty-something.” In my mind’s eyes, my Warrior II pose was amazing—strong and easy, a perfection of position. For the second set, I faced the mirror.
After yoga, I called my Cousin Myron to say, “Can I buy you lunch at our favorite deli? Yep, my treat.”