I'm alert, I'm awake, I'm aware.
I am always on the scene.
Making the rounds, digging the sounds.
I read People Magazine.
'Cuz I'm hip.
Like, dig! I'm in step.
When it was hip to be hep, I was hep.
I don't blow but I'm a fan.
Look at me swing. Ring a ding-ding.
I even call my girlfriend "man," 'cuz I'm hip.
Every Saturday night with my suit buttoned tight and my suedes on
I'm getting my kicks digging arty French flicks with my shades on.
I'm too much. I'm a gas.
I am anything but middle class.
When I hang around the band,
Popping my thumbs, digging the drums,
Squares don't seem to understand
Why I flip. They're not hip like I'm hip.
Scatting
I'm hip!
//Scat//
I'm on top of every trend.
Look at me go. Vo-dee-o-do.
Sammy Davis knew my friend.
I'm hip, but not weird.
Like, you notice, I don't wear a beard.
Beards were in but now they're out.
They had they're day. Now they're passé.
Just ask me if you're in doubt, 'cuz I'm hip.
Now I'm deep into Zen meditation and macrobiotics,
And as soon as I can I intend to get into narcotics.
'Cuz I'm cool as a cuke.
I'm a cat, I'm a card, I'm a kook, kook, kook.
I get so much out of life.
Really, I do. Skoo ba dee boo.
One more time play "Mack the Knife."
Let 'er rip. I may flip, but I'm hip.
The above lyrics are courtesy of David Frischberg, one of my favourite jazz singers, known for his witty and humourous songs. I quote them here today because I think I can cautiously say that my hip is on the mend. I took my mother for a very long walk yesterday and despite my hip joint protesting painfully at the start, by the time I got home a few hours and 8K later, I was feeling much looser - in fact, I felt 'hip'. I think maybe I had been babying it a bit too much and kept myself too inactive.
I took my Mom for a walk yesterday on the boardwalk which runs along the eastern beaches in Toronto. She doesn't walk very far but I wheel her part of the way in her wheelchair and when she's had enough of a rest she'll get out and walk. We had lunch at the same lakeside pub where we celebrated her birthday a few weeks ago. She remembered the party (she doesn't remember much) with great pleasure, as well as 'that little boy' (her great-grandson, who was in attendance). She had a glass of wine which she enjoyed thoroughly, as well as sweet potato fries, which are new to her. After lunch we walked some more. We admired the lake, which was flat and placidly grey, saw and greeted many dogs; I gave up trying to teach her to pronounce 'Vesla', the breed of one of them (she's rather deaf and it came out wuh-hezla) and observed three male mallard ducks out parading for prospective mates as well as a shrub full of congregating sparrows. After a few pleasant hours I wheeled her home. Mom was very excited to have gone out; this long winter has made her shack happy and she gets lonely. My brother is in France right now on regimental business and all the visiting with Mom is left to me. She forgets when I was last there and thinks months have gone by between visits. As always though, she is very easily entertained and loves to stroll along the lake front. I wish I could get her out more than once a week but my schedule and the weather hasn't always allowed for it. Fortunately, she lives just a 20 minute walk from my house. We moved her from her former home downtown a year ago so she could be closer to me. Otherwise, even weekly visits wouldn't have been possible.
Walking back home, mostly uphill, I observed that my hip was becoming less and less painfully tight and I felt my hamstrings engaging in a way they haven't done since I stopped running. It felt superb. So I made an old lady happy and fixed (I hope) my stiff hip problem. Maybe it was my reward!
In a few minutes I'll be heading for a Pilates class at the new gym. I have always said Pilates seems to fix whatever is wrong with me. Let's see if that's till true.
Later today: Spinning with Higgie.
Coming soon: Boot Camp!
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