There I was, naked in the Jewish Community Center locker room post-Zumba class and shower. A young woman ran into the room announcing “Sheila Wilensky is writing a story on kids’ fitness for the Post.”
“Uh, that’s me,” I said sheepishly. The announcer and another woman started talking to me about the fitness program, but I insisted on getting dressed before the discussion went any further. That was a first.
I’m always running into folks from Maine in Tucson. A few months ago, I noticed a bumper sticker on my morning walk: “Got Maine lobsters.com.” The homeowner was watering her plants. I had to ask if she had a Maine connection.
“Yes, my husband, Steve Wheaton, is from Bar Harbor, Maine,” she said. I blurted my usual reply: “No kidding!” We chatted a bit. Last week, I saw the woman and her husband walking their dog. “I was just thinking of you,” said Mary. She never did say why she was thinking about me but that’s okay (I don’t have to know everything).
It was her husband, Steve, who I wanted to talk to. He had been in Tucson since 1970, taught math at the UA, and had graduated from the old Bar Harbor High School.
Did he know my good friend, Ellen Russell Gilmore, who also graduated from BHHS. “Oh sure, she was my sister Peggy’s best friend,” he said. “I had such a crush on her.”
I called Ellen yesterday to tell her. “Wow,” she said. “Nobody ever had a crush on me.” Hope I made her day.
I couldn’t help thinking that after all these years Steve still had a heavy duty Downeast accent and was wearing an L.L. Bean hat. Maine lobsters and all. How we cling to where we came from.
And here’s the strangest story. A few days ago on the windowsill in our shower I noticed a little blob that looked like part of a muffin or cookie. Some creature’s poop, said Dan. Too much, plus impossible to drop onto our windowsill from a locked window so nonchalantly.
I asked recent guests if they had brought a cookie into the shower. Why would anybody do that, I wondered, but you never know. Tomorrow I’m taking the mysterious blob to the UA extension office. Will they be able to identify it? Stay tuned.