I recommend real sports like this to anyone who is feeling bored and zombie-like due to too much internet.
Other recent activities include visiting the Neckar Hôpital des Enfants Malade in Paris (the Children's Hospital), where a friend's two-year old had to have surgery on a lymph-node. Their baby is just fine, but I also met Julien, a near-three year old who won't talk and mysteriously had a broken eye-socket and what we suspected were cigarette burns. He gave me a hug once, but when we turned to leave he shot the most intense, make-you-feel-guilty-for-leaving look. But still, we left.
In other news, you may find below my wishes for when I am old and senile:
Don't be sorry or sad for me,
be happy for my return to innocence and simplicity,
and teach me again and again not to fear-
for fear is itself the only thing to fear.
And give me poets
to calm me and keep me company.
And children with a good heart,
and patience
for an old storyteller.
The truth is the only truth.
Don't patronize me,
but do make me laugh
with genuine, good, simple humor.
Rabbits and hats falling.
For the record, I have always talked to myself aloud...
And NO television!
Let me be free, though,
no prisons or walls or jackets-
let me wander free,
together with the poet and the child.
Protect me from burglers, swindlers and rapists,
and tuck us softly
into the future.
These are my wishes. (and music).
