A CHICAGO MOMENT
We were checking our e-mail at the SoHo Apple Store a la Bob Eisen.* Yes, it's free, but apparently you can catch a lot of germs by checking your e-mail there. I had the hand sanitizer on me and wasn't worried. Besides, I'd just taken the two-hour class at Dharma Mittra's followed by massive amounts of greens at Temple in the Village chased down by dark chocolate nonpareils. I was in New York City. It was sunny. My feet didn't hurt. I felt good.
School had let out and the two-story behemoth was wall-to-wall with geniuses, nincompoops and all the rest. Most were male (as were most of the students in Dharma Mittra's class. What's up with this? Oh who cares -- I likes it!).
And then there it was -- an e-mail from a fitness coordinator desperate for a sub for a Wed. 7-8:15 AM Yoga Basics class. So desperate in fact she was willing to pay time-and-a-half. I thought, "Well, I'm flying in Tuesday night and I have to teach at 9AM anyway... My practice will be f---ed either way....Why not?". So I agreed to do it.
Cut to the Wednesday morning 7-8:15 AM Basics class. It's 7:30. The sun streams in. Fourteen people are on their backs, not putting their hands on their thighs in supta padangustasana -- despite the protestations of the teacher, who says, in desperation, "If your hand is not on your thigh, take a moment and examine why it's not there." Suddenly, seven hands shoot onto seven thighs. And she didn't even have to say, "And now ask yourself why this would not apply to you."
But at 8AM 11 people get up, put on their shoes, collect their mats, and walk out of class -- without doing savasana. Not hiding her shock, the teacher tells them that their minds will be restless for the remainder of the day if they don't do savasana (corpse pose). An empty threat. Instead of listening they head even more quickly towards the door.
Was it something I said? she wonders. Or is there a new type of silent fire alarm that only the affluent can hear?
Desperate, she asks, over the confusion and din of the mass exodus, "DOES THIS CLASS END AT 8 OR 8:15? BECAUSE THEY TOLD ME IT WAS 8:15.
One of the remaing three students (probably a stay-at-home mom) says, "Oh no, everyone always leaves at 8. The other instructors have all given up and just stop the class at that time."
"Well. No one told me," she says, miffed. "Maybe they should put it on the schedule that way."
Nonetheless the determined instructor sticks it out til the bitter end....
....and winds up being late for her 9AM lesson.
*Bob is both smart and frugal, and knows how to make the most out of that which can be had for free. We all stand to learn a lot from him.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
A Chicago Moment
A CHICAGO MOMENT