Be Like BESSIE!

Be Like Bessie!

“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.”―Ralph Waldo Emerson

A few days each week during the winter I work in a giant laboratory studying the behavior of vast numbers of people. My specific areas of interest are the characteristics of patience and kindness while in pursuit of happiness and outdoor adventure. More specifically, I am a greeter at a New England ski area. From this vantage point I have face-to-face contact with hundreds of men, women and children of all ages. The stories my colleagues and I collect could fill a book. (Hey, that’s an idea!)

One of a Greeter’s responsibilities, beyond welcoming guests and answering basic questions, is to be sure each visitor’s wait in the line to purchase lift tickets is as short as possible, hopefully no more that 7-15 minutes on the most crowded days. This is no mean feat in the age of data collection required for the issuance of a re-usable RFID card that can be detected by a scanner in the pocket of even the most high tech parka. We also draw the short straw sometimes and have to facilitate traffic flow in the “drop off” area. If the entire ski area is the laboratory, then this particular area is the active Petri dish. . Maybe we should put up a sign that says, “Remember! Children are watching and listening.”

If I was looking to hire people to build a team for a task that required intense, cooperative effort in a stressful situation, I’d insist on seeing videos of how these job candidates handled their cars, friends, family and Greeters in the “drop off” area. Surely I’d learn more than any resume or interview could reveal.

Since we Greeters spend most of our time managing ticket lines, that’s where the best stories come from. Just the other day a person was in such a hurry to get his ticket that instead of walking through the short, simple, ten-foot, back and forth maze to the ticket window, this “gentleman” ducked under the ropes to take a more direct route, knocking over several stanchions, which he did not fix. He may have saved a full three seconds getting to the ticket window. I just smiled at him sympathetically. You know, one of those smiles that says, “I hope you get better soon.”

We greeters pick up a wonderful assortment of sound bites or snippets from the hundreds of conversations that swirl around us. My all-time favorite came from two brothers, strolling past with their arms on each other’s shoulders. The older brother looked at his younger sibling and said, “Hey, your wife’s happy and your girlfriend’s happy. I think everything is going to be fine.” Then they disappeared into the crowd leaving me with a number of questions that will forever go unanswered.

I’ve been thinking of asking management to position a large video screen in the ticket line waiting area showing highlights of good and bad behavior of guests collected over the course of the winter season. We would obscure the faces to prevent law suits, but the instructional value would be powerful…and highly entertaining.

Most people waiting in line to purchase tickets fall into one of three categories:

Group A. “I am too important to have to wait in line with all of these other people. Can’t you do something?”

Group B. “It’s too bad the wait is so long. Have you considered ways that might make things move more efficiently?”

Group C. “I’m not at work, I’m in a beautiful place and eventually we are going to have a great day on the slopes.”

The hybrid of groups B and C is my personal favorite. By the way, guests can purchase their tickets online at a reduced price and eliminate or greatly shorten their wait in line. It’s a reward for those thoughtful people who plan ahead. Let’s call this Group S for smart.

So how does this all tie in with BESSIE’S STORY? It’s simple. Bessie is the model of patience. She’ll stand with her nose to a door calmly and peacefully if she wants to go outside. When it’s time for breakfast or dinner Bessie sits like an angel without barking, whining or grumbling. In her dark, fragrant world she somehow just knows that we’re going to do the best we can to take care of her needs. When we are going somewhere in the car she’ll hop in and sit calmly as long as necessary. Very few people can follow her example of poise and good manners. The only time Bessie ever acts or behaves as if she is the most important piece of the puzzle is when someone is playing retrieving games with her. She can be a little antsy during these times, but we understand.

I’ve said it before. The best way to make friends and influence people is to BE LIKE BESSIE. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

“We don’t grow older, we grow riper.” ─ Pablo Picasso

Bessie, our twelve-year-old, blind chocolate Lab took her first swim of the year this spring when the air and water temperatures were the same, about 45 degrees. Standing on the water’s edge she was a hesitant elderly woman, probably making up excuses why she should stay dry on the sidelines. Suddenly, happy memories overpowered old-girl caution and she remembered how good it feels to be in the water. Emerging moments later with the stick she retrieved in her smiling mouth, Bessie was like a carefree kid, eager and ready for more adventure. It was as if some fountain-of-youth magic was flowing into the lake from a secret stream and she’d swallowed a few mouthfuls. How wonderful she must have felt, dripping and tingling with unlocked, youthful exuberance. Her young-dog memory winning a tug-of-war with the doubts and reservations that age has a tendency to magnify.

As a child, if there was water nearby my pals and I would find it and get soaked. Salt water, lake water, sprinklers, pools, puddles…it didn’t matter. During the summer it was better to be wet than dry, period. Amphibian ancestry? Maybe. It was almost instinctive; we’d dive in with no hesitancy at all, like seals. We were free! As the years passed something changed, gradually at first, then gaining subtle momentum, like a false rumor that morphs into a perceived fact. It happens with most of us. The older we become, the less time we spend in the water, and the more excuses we invent for staying dry.

Pointless doubts begin to overshadow the sheer exhilaration of jumping in. Misguided logic erases the exquisite joy of wrapping a big, fluffy beach towel around our shivering, wet body. Concerns that our soggy hair might not fall back in place correctly may have played into our reluctance at some point. And of course those firm, youthful bodies were slowly transitioning into softer, more textured and wrinkled versions of the younger models. In adulthood our dents, dings and rust spots are better left undercover, we think, so we keep our clothes on more and wear our bathing suits less, much less. By the way, we’ve earned those dents, dings and rust spots. And take heart, the repair work helps pay college tuitions for our dermatologist’s children…but I digress.

Picture the last time you were at a social gathering near an ocean beach, lake or pool with all age groups represented, a Fourth of July party for example. It’s not scientifically confirmed by research, but I’m sure there is a direct correlation between time spent in the water and the age of the attendees. Graph the data and you’ll likely find a steady, downward trend ─ the older the person, the less time in the water.

Raise your hand if you are over 50, still own a bathing suit and know exactly where it is. Keep your hand up if you’ve worn the bathing suit in plain view during the past year without a shirt or covering, and keep your hand raised if you wore the suit swimming. If your hand is still up you get bonus points and are a hero, full of swaggering confidence and undeterred by the foolish, judgmental comments or thoughts of others. Good for you! Double those points if you are over 60, triple them over 70, etc. Skinny dippers get super-hero status, by the way.

Remember how exquisite it feels to ease into cool water on a steamy, sultry, summer afternoon, that instant transition from discomfort to luxury as your head dips below the surface? There is nothing like it, nothing. Remember how the aftereffects of an early morning swim make you feel more energetic, optimistic and ambitious? Breakfast seems to taste better, too. These priceless joys don’t cost a thing, so why do we stop? Old buildings achieve national historic site status, antique cars turn heads on the highway and are celebrated at auto shows, and aging dogs are treasured and celebrated more than puppies. Yet here we are sitting in the shade in lawn chairs, fully clothed no less.

Want to really turn some heads? Let’s get out of the lawn chairs and put those ripe, beautiful older bodies on display. Lather on the sunblock and hang them out there like masterpieces in an art gallery. Dive in, jump in, or walk in, though walking in means you’ll have to experience that mysterious moment as the water goes above your waist and you raise your arms like a puppet and suck in your breath. Swim alone at twilight or secretly at sunrise if you must, but get in the water. Remember, just like when we were kids, it only counts if you put your head under. And don’t think about getting out immediately after dunking. Relax and enjoy it as the sensations and memories return like a childhood best friend you haven’t seen for a while.

Once you’re in the water close your eyes and you’ll have a hint of how dear old Bessie feels every day when she’s swimming. There is a puppy in her soul and there is one in yours, too. Be Like Bessie!