Mel’s Café

No Longer Amused

2009-08-05T17:19:00.000-07:00

Two and half years ago, when my Vespa was a new toy, I looooved the attention and curious questions from strangers. Answering the same questions over and over brought me nothing but joy.

"Can you take it on the freeway," they'd ask.

"I can, but I don't, because I like my life," I'd chirp back with a smile.

"How fast does it go?" This is usually the next question.

"Speedometer goes to 90, but my top speed is 60," I would cheerfully reply.

Those days are over people! Leave me the **** alone! These days the conversation goes more like this:

Them: Can you take that on the freeway?

Me: Yes (flatly sans even a hint of a smile)

Them: How fast does it go?

Me: 120 (at this point I scoot away if I can)

And why do you think it's okay to pull up beside me and ask how much I paid for it? It's such an invasion of my space and privacy. What if I hopped into the passenger side of your car when you're at a stop light and started firing questions at you about how fast it goes and how much you paid for it? I'm guessing that probably wouldn't be okay.

I know what you're thinking. It's my choice to commute on such a conversation piece, but that's just it - It's for my transportation not your entertainment. Please people - if you find it so interesting, there is a Vespa dealer on Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks. They would be more than happy to answer all of your questions and you can let me get on with my day without answering the same asinine questions over and over again.

The Guest House

2009-06-21T23:20:00.000-07:00

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.

~Rumi

Please Don't Take My Sunshine

2009-06-13T20:01:00.000-07:00

The weather report says we might see a little sun tomorrow here in LA. It's literally been 6 days since I've seen the sun and I'm on the verge of harikiri. I've never missed the sun so much in my life. In fact, I don't think I went this many days in a row in England without seeing sun. I feel like I've relocated to Seattle without the hassle of packing and moving.

It might be difficult to feel pity considering Southern California has sunny skies 99% of the time, but let there be no doubt: There is suffering. SIX DAYS IN A ROW... No weaning period, just BAM! No sun... My mood has taken a serious nose dive. I had a breakdown in yoga class earlier in the week, alligator tears streaming onto my mat as I hid my face in pigeon pose. Then there was the temper tantrum at the barn yesterday when I had to wait in line to turn my horse out... Oh, yes. There is suffering.

Normally I roll out of bed ready to rock at 7:00 a.m., but for the last 3 days I didn't get out of bed until after 9:00. What pagan god to I have make a sacrificial offer to? How many sun salutations do I have to perform? Please! Just tell me. I'll do it.

Near Death Experience

2009-06-07T07:41:00.000-07:00

I nearly died yesterday. Seriously, I came within inches of being plowed down in an intersection by an old man that ran a red light. It's a strange intersection at Victory and Riverside on the border of Burbank and Glendale, but I definitely had a green light. I was in the middle of the intersection when I heard screeching tires and saw the front of a black car in my side mirrors. Had I seen him sooner and braked out of panic, I would no doubt be dead or seriously maimed.

To make matters worse he stopped beside me at the next light. He was quite old and could barely see over the steering wheel.

"Hey," he said, "you need to watch where you're going."

Incredulously, I replied, "No YOU need to watch where YOU'RE going. I had a green light!"

"No, I had an arrow... a green arrow..." He said it as if he wasn't quite sure. "That's why I went because I had a green arrow."

He was turning left onto Riverside from Victory, I know for sure there isn't an arrow there because I avoid going that way for that very reason. The intersection is wide and sort of slanted. He no doubt got confused by the arrow intended for cars going in my direction.

I was stunned but strangely calm after it was over. I couldn't stop thinking about what a near miss it was. I've been riding my Vespa around LA for over two years now without incident. This is the first really scary thing that's happened to me. I'm a little unnerved for sure. I'll keep riding because I love it, but I'll certainly be more cautious when entering intersections.

OK Starbucks: You Win.

2009-06-03T14:03:00.000-07:00

The hunt for a great coffee house is no easy task in my neck of the woods. Surely there must be a plethora of cool mom and pop coffee shops in Hollywood and Los Feliz, but not in Glendale and Burbank. It took me several months to find a place that satisfied my coffee shop snobbery. Romancing the Bean had nearly everything I wanted - mellow tunes playing, ceramic cups instead of paper that no doubt gives the coffee a different taste, free WiFi, and people just hanging out reading, writing, and socializing. Finally I had found a place I could go to concentrate on work without the distractions at home.

Imagine my dismay when I was greeted by a big ole “For Lease” sign in their window yesterday. I guess they, too, have fallen victim to the plummeting economy. With my head hanging low in disappointment, I schlepped my book bag back to my Vespa. I have a lot to do, I thought. Where the hell can I go? Desperate, I ended up at the Starbucks a few blocks from my house. Try as I might to resist the corporate coffee monster, sometimes to resist is futile.

Ordering from the barista I noticed a wall of white coffee cups. My heart lept with joy. “Grande soy cappacino in a real cup, please!” I found a nice table tucked in the corner near a window. Groovy jazz tunes played softly over the PA. The place was full of the right mix of energy – a few folks coming and going, and others, like me, hunkering down for a while. I had no choice but to acquiese to Starbucks. I know they are the Walmart of the coffee world, and I realize that they played a role in the demise of Romancing the Bean. But… they do do some good works in the world with their free trade coffee promotin and feeding children in Rowanda. I had to face the fact that I was getting what I needed, right there in a Starbucks.

Until further notice: Starbucks, you win.

Stroke of Genius

2009-05-11T19:36:00.000-07:00

Dry Pub Crawl

2009-02-13T16:20:00.000-08:00

It was my first dry (well, nearly) pub crawl. We picked up his friend at LAX around 7:00 p.m. after a harrowing commute from Glendale. Navigating the LA streets on my Vespa has taught me that there are better ways to get to a place than getting on a freeway. We slipped through the streets in the rental car until we were past downtown where I thought it would be safe to hop on the freeway for the rest of the journey, and it was except for the 8 times we missed our exit, and the off ramp that we took on two wheels because he was so involved in the point he was making that he forgot to slow down.

In any event, we finally we made it to LAX around 7:00 and I had the perfect plan for a man I’d been informed “likes his vodka.”

“We’re going to the Liquid Kitty…”

The Liquid Kitty is a dark, moody bar on Pico with a neon martini and cigarette sign out front. It’s been a few years and my recollection a little rusty but I figured I could find it. After about 20 minutes of driving down Sepulveda I realized we were in Manhattan Beach. Oops.

“Um, I think we need to turn around,” I said sheepishly.

“No problem. Hey, if we are good at one thing – it is turning around.”

It seemed so easy. The Infinity rental was turned around and we cruised all the way to Pico via Sepulveda, a half hour drive more or less, where we took a left. We drove a few blocks but no Kitty. Hmm… We turned a drove the other way a bit and finally I called 411 and was informed that there was no listing for the Kitty.

“Oh no! It can’t be! The Liquid Kitty would never go out of business…”

With no direction and no response from the alcoholics in my life, we had no choice but to move on. And move on we did. We moved past, or a least close proximity of:

Bar Marmont (we decided too chi-chi)
Saddle Back Ranch (no one wanted to ride the bull)
Coach and Horses (I couldn’t remember if it was on Hollywood or Sunset – give me a break I was probably drunk the last time I was there!)
The Frolic Room (sigh…)

But finally we found one of our destinations: Big Wangs! Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s a beer and hot wing joint, which to our dismay was filled to capacity with young, drunk, Lakers’ fans, snarffling chicken wings as far as the eye could see. But we’d come so far… It wouldn’t be right not to have at least one Salty Dog (a double of course), except for our determined driver.

To wrap up our (nearly) dry pub crawl we found ourselves a nice cozy booth at JAX in Glendale – named after the brewery in New Orleans, where we had a good meal to end our three hour tour of Los Angeles in which my visitors took in the following sights:

LAX
Manhattan Beach
Beverly Hills
Rodeo Drive
The Sunset Strip
Hollywood Blvd
Mann’s Chinese Theatre

I made the suggestion of writing a book on pub crawling LA.

“You might want to invest in a map.”

Rubi Friday

2009-02-06T10:07:00.001-08:00

Just when things were going so well, I have been presented with a new roommate that is testing my fragile yogic qualities of patience and compassion. Oddly enough, she is from India, the birth place of yoga. Out of several other candidates for the room that was available, my vote was for her. If I can't be in India, I figured the next best thing would be to have India in my home. Oh my. Was I wrong.

For ease of reference, I will call her Rubi, a nick name, if you will. I'm not sure what I've done to Rubi but she is a rude *****. She won't even speak to me when we cross paths in the common areas. I tried to confront Rubi in a house meeting a few days ago, to offer an olive branch and sort out the mystery debacle, but she was emphatic that there's nothing wrong and no problem between us. "It is all in your perception Meeeleeesa." Well, okay.

This morning one of my friendlier roommates cooked up some steel cut oats and invited me to sit down to breakfast with her. So nice! Civilized behavior! Unfortunately, trying to play peacemaker she invited Rubi too. Rubi entered the room and didn't utter a word nor toss a glance in my direction. Pretty typical. Then she started making fresh squeezed juice with the oranges from the tree in the backyard. She then placed a large glass of juice in front of Maria, and another at her own place setting. Meanwhile, I was distracted by a little IM flirtation that was going down on my laptop, so her infantile attempt to get a dig in did nothing more than make her look petty and inconsiderate. But now she's even scaring my friends away:

And seriously, I don't wanna even MEET your ... roommate, let alone get the skunk-eye
from her... Roommates are a circle of hell best avoided in my book.

Sigh... and these are the days of our lives.

The Story of Stuff

2009-01-11T14:21:00.000-08:00

http://www.storyofstuff.com/

Discomfort and Joy

2009-01-10T12:27:00.000-08:00

A bead of sweat rolled down my nose as I pushed my big toe into my fingers in an attempt to fully extend my right leg out in front of me while balancing on my left leg. The look on my face as well as some of my fellow yogis must have been intense. “Remember,” the teacher said, “We do this thing called yoga to find the joy within.” This brought smiles to our faces. Oh yea, now I remember! I thought to myself. She continued with her pep talk as we extended the same leg out to the right while looking left, still holding the big toe with the middle finger and thumb. She said we have to be able to smile through the discomfort because the payoff of the practice is joy, compassion, and happiness. She didn’t mention the sculpted muscles. For most Ashtangis the physical benefit of this vigorous style of yoga is only icing on the cake. It’s the transformation that happens on the inside that is so remarkable. It’s good medicine. After five long yogi breaths we returned the leg to center, released the toe and tried to resist gravity while slowly lowering the foot to the floor.

Today is a “led” class which means that the teacher instructs the entire practice and the students move at the same pace. The rest of the week the classes are taught “Mysore” style, which is from Mysore, India, and the instructor works with each student individually within a group setting to cultivate a personal practice. Each student practices at their own level and pace. The teacher gives you more postures as she sees that you are ready for it. This is what initially drew me to Ashtanga – the idea of having a set sequence of asanas (postures) that I could easily do at home. Many of the yogis in the room have worked with Jodi for years and can do some extraordinary things, like dropping into urdhva danurasana (upward facing bow) from standing. This is not something you would want to try until you are really ready for it. I’m not there yet. And forget about using the wall as a safety net for inversions. Not on Jodi’s watch. You are only allowed to do inversions when you are strong enough and balanced enough to do them without the wall to hold you up. Again, I’m not there yet.

My neighbor to the right is a newby to Ashtanga. Feeling a little bit of pity for her, I couldn’t help but notice her exasperation when after 90 minutes of practice we were still being asked to move through vinyasa, a word used to describe a sequence of three postures used often in yoga to heat and strengthen the body. By this time the windows of the studio were completely fogged up, and everyone was dripping with sweat. At the end of class I had to ask her, “So what do you think?” Her eyes widened as she said, “I’ve never been to a yoga class like this before… there are some really impressive things going on in this room!” Another satisfied customer…

Christmas Party at the Castle

2008-12-15T17:37:00.000-08:00

Saturday night was a swanky affair at the castle shaped house next door. Being just lowly renters in an affluent Glendale neighborhood, an invitation to party with the soap opera elite was an opportunity that we could not pass by. Arriving on their doorstep in our finest party frocks at 7:15 p.m. sharp it felt a little bit like a Cinderella evening, and it wasn't long before I had a toad following me around reminding me of yet another well known fairy tale.

Fine food was served, an open bar was provided, and a swinging jazz band played their hearts out until the cops arrived around midnight - and really, it's not a party unless the cops show up. Our host and hostess opened up their home to 200 plus of their dearest friends (and strangers), putting their fine art, furniture and instruments on display. I admired their ability to trust in the honesty and integrity of others. In the back garden there was a huge Buddha head water fountain, and up the spiral staircase was the master bedroom open to all, with a fine collection of guitars.

He is a musician and she is an actress on the Bold and Beautiful and together they seem to lead a charmed life. There were other soap stars there, or so I'm told. Since I don't even own a television, I would have a hard time recognizing even the most famous of television actors. However, I did get to make the acquaintance of the lead writer from the 1970's television show Barney Miller. I forgot that show even existed.

While the party was smashing and much fun was had, it was nice to know that lots of money, toys and clothing were collected for a local charity. The Jenesse Center has been helping victims of domestic violence for nearly 30 years. Hopefully one fairy tale evening will help those in need have a happily ever after, or at least a happy Christmas.

Women Who Behave...

2008-12-12T21:45:00.000-08:00

do not make history.

~Author unknown

Christmas Scooter Ride

2008-12-09T11:46:00.000-08:00

Last night I joined about 30 other scooter enthusiasts for a ride through the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power Festival of Lights in Griffith Park. We all met at a local Starbuck's to fuel up on warm beverages before braving the cold evening air on scooter-back. It was so much fun chatting with fellow scooter lovers and checking out all the different makes and models. The group was heavy on Vespas since the ride was promoted through Vespa Club LA, but there were a variety of other scooters and even a couple of motorcycles that joined the fun.

When it came time to start our engines my inner scooter geek got a rush of adrenaline. Two by two we lined up and hit the road. I love my scooter but it was a new kind of fun riding in a "scooter gang!"

Kirtan with Dave Stringer

2008-12-08T23:40:00.000-08:00

Friday night I attended my first Kirtan (Keer-tahn) with Dave Stringer and his band at Yoga at the Village, a quaint little studio in Kenneth Village. While it only has one practice room it has a whole lot of charm and a small town feel. Upon arrival for the 8:00 show it was a little too close for comfort in the waiting area, which is set up for a few yoga students passing through, not 40 plus people waiting to see a Kirtan performance. When the doors to the practice room finally opened everyone quietly found their way to one of the chairs lining the wall or a cushion on the floor. Dave and his band were sitting on the floor against the back wall bathed in ambient light looking like the epitome of modern hippy chic.

Considering it was my first Kirtan I wasn’t sure how things worked. Until I took the teacher training program with Yogaworks over the summer I had never even heard of Kirtan. There would be chanting for sure, but it would be luck of the draw if they chose a mantra familiar to me. Dave, in a very soothing voice, explained to us that he would sing the mantra and then we would sing it back to him in a call and response fashion. They also projected a transliteration of the mantra along with the original Sanskrit onto the wall.

The repetition of the mantra is said to bring the mind into a state of meditation. While Kirtan is a Hindu tradition, it has been compared to American Gospel music. Dave extolled the positive effects of Kirtan saying it is sort of like being around someone who is laughing and joyful. "You can’t stay grumpy around someone like that. It’s contagious.” He added that it doesn't matter whether you are religious, or whether you believe in God at all to feel the positive effects of Kirtan. When his powerful voice filled the room with the first round of Devakinanda Gopala it was easy to feel what he meant.

Devakinanda Gopala
Devakinanda Gopala

Gopala Govinda Govinda Gopala

The tempo was slow at the start and the energy a little sluggish. Most of us in the room were getting to know the mantra and only half heartedly responded to the calls. After the first few rounds the room started to feel more comfortable and the singing was increasingly energetic, bodies found it hard to resist swaying with the music. After another few minutes a vibration of joy was apparent as tension melted away into a flowing river of chant. After about twenty minutes of ecstatic chanting, the pace began to slow as if we were descending the other side of the mountain until we all finally arrived at a very tranquil place. The room fell silent with only the sound of breath.

I felt as light as a feather. I’m convinced that Kirtan is good medicine for the soul. To hear a sample of Dave Stringer’s music and see his calendar of events you can visit his website http://www.davestringer.com

Tis the Season...

2008-11-29T08:39:00.001-08:00

With Thanksgiving behind us it's time to get into the Christmas spirit. Believe it our not, we are getting a little bit of weather here in L.A. Well, the temperature is dipping below 50 at night and we got some torrential downpour last Wednesday.

It had rained all of Tuesday night and most of Wednesday morning and then there was a break, so I quickly hopped on the Vespa to go check on my beloved horse, Coli, who lives about 10 minutes away. About halfway there the sky opened up and the roads of Burbank looked more like river than road. I found myself confronted with an overflowing gutter running through Riverside Drive (aptly named for the current situation). If I tried to stop it could result in a slide, so I bravely soldiered through the gutter with proverbial fingers crossed. I made it through unscathed except for the huge gush of water that came over the windshield onto my lap. The choices were to cry or laugh. I opted for the latter and muttered to myself, I am clearly insane. Coli appreciated the effort I made to bring her some treats while all the other horses were dancing around in their stalls, frantic about the heavy rain and thunder. As for my reward, I stopped in Starbucks to wait out the rain and have my Christmas beverage of choice, a peppermint mocha twist.

It's been 2 years now since I started scootin' around LA. It was an experiment at first, just to see if I could make it one year without a car in LA. I've come to love my Vespa more than I ever could have imagined. Of course their are moments like the one described above when I think having a car could be nice. At those times I can look to Scooter in the Sticks for inspiration. Blogger Steve Williams proves that you can do just about anything on a vespa in just about any weather condition, including hauling a Christmas tree in the snow. What's a little LA rain compared to that?

Weekend in San Francisco

2008-11-28T18:55:00.000-08:00

Who says San Francisco is gloomy and gray? Last weekend in the City by the bay was sunny and gorgeous, albeit a little chilly. I found myself having oysters on the half shell down at the Fisherman's Wharf for brunch, then hopping on a street car to peruse the Haight Ashbury District. Strolling on Haight Street I stumbled upon a band performing reggae-esque tunes, so I popped into the non-Starbuck's coffee house across the street to take in some groovy vibes. Continuing my journey I found my way to the lush and lovely Golden Gate Park where I was asked not once, but five times, if I wanted to buy some "buds." Seems the charm of the area is still alive and well. I politely declined.

The next day I made my way to Fisherman's Wharf again, but this time to rent a bike to ride accross the famous Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito.

On the way...

Getting closer...
Almost there...

It was so worth the effort!

After a scenic but challenging ride, I had more than earned a serving of clam chowder in a sourdough bowl accompanied by a cold Heineken. While the ride was great it was nice to know there was a ferry to take me back to the City. Maybe I shot the bridge to death but it looks different from this angle and light. Plus, I love the way the fog is rolling in...

The next day it was time to head off on a quick hiking trip in the Mt. Tamalpais State Park just north of the Golden Gate Bridge. The crisp, clear day provided great visibility and stunning views.

My trip wrapped up with a tour of the Robert Mondavi Winery off Highway 29 in Napa Valley. It was a gorgeous day to be in wine country.

Birthday Surprise

2008-11-10T07:26:00.000-08:00

Yummy home baked carrot cupcakes... mmmm.

Friendship

2008-11-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

In the quiet light of the stable, you hear a muffled snort, the stamp of a hoof, a friendly nicker. Gentle eyes inquire, "How was your day old friend?" and suddenly, all your troubles fade away.
~Author Unknown

Obamanos!

2008-11-04T09:48:00.001-08:00

Election day has finally arrived. I’m certain that there will be some teary eyed republicans tonight. Particularly the ones that were stupid enough to place bets against Obama. While I try to keep this blog clear of negative garbage – like U.S. politics, it would seem a shame not to post something about the election.

Last night contenders of Proposition 8 – the one that proposes the overturning of new legislation making same sex marriages legal in California – were out in full force at the 134 freeway Colorado off-ramp in Pasadena. On route to class, the ruckus they were making coupled with the honking of passing cars was so startling that I nearly wrecked my Vespa. Well, not really, but I did have to stop short, which made me a little pissy. But then, sitting there at the traffic light watching them wave their “vote no” signs and whooping their hearts out, I had to lighten up. After all, I hadn’t given up my time to stand on a street corner and promote equality for all, but I did put two stickers on my Vespa and voted no on my mail in ballot last week. If the sound of honking horns is any indication, there is no way this proposition will pass. Just a few blocks away there were a few “vote yes-ers” and they only got the occasional toot. I wonder what it feels like to stand on a corner and promote hatred? I guess the KKK might be a good source for such information.

Yesterday I deleted my Google ad from this page. Blogger chooses what ads to place on my blog based on what is written here. It is beyond me why they thought it would be okay to promote Proposition 8 here on my very liberal and loving blog. That was fixed with one stroke of the delete key.

This is the most exciting election of my lifetime. Will good prevail? Or will half the country be migrating to other lands to escape another 4 years of tyranny? If the polls are accurate we will shortly be living in “Obamanation,” and gay couples will have the same rights as straight couples – in California at least, and everyone knows it all starts here!

Clydesdale Video

2008-11-03T22:43:00.000-08:00

And What Is It That You Do...?

2008-10-28T08:13:00.000-07:00

It has always been a dreaded question, "What do you do?" As always, I would reluctantly answer, "legal secretary." It made me cringe, so I changed "secretary" to "assistant," but then it gave the impression that I was a paralegal. While perfectly qualified to do paralegal work, I have never worked as one, and even if I did, that position wouldn't be right for me either. Both cases result in a stiff sentence of being chained to a desk for more hours than I can stand in one week. So, I left my legal position, but the question still comes up.

These days I'm wearing many hats, so the question is complicated. To avoid overwhelming anyone, I usually simplify the answer to "I teach yoga and work with horses." Ah, that feels good! But the "work with horses" bit can cause some confusion. They will ask, "Are you a trainer?" No. While I have been riding since I was 9 years old, I'm not audacious enough to use the label "trainer." What I do is sort of like dog walking. There are dog walkers whose job is to walk dogs that belong to other people so that when the owner returns home from work, the dog isn't bouncing off the walls. In my case, I ride horses that belong to other people so that when the owner has the time to ride, their horse isn't bouncing off the walls making life unpleasant, or much worse. When a dog jumps on you it's annoying. When a horse spooks, bucks, or rears because it's been couped up in a stall all week, things can get ugly fast.

Until recently, I spent most of my days chained to a desk in downtown LA. These days I'm out on horseback in Griffith Park enjoying the lovely weather that California is so famous for. On weekends I'm teaching yoga - the practice that gave me the courage to follow my heart, leave behind my "job," and pursue my calling. Now it's more effort than ever to explain what I "do," but I'm certainly happier to do it.

Freestyle Dressage Clip

2008-10-24T12:41:00.000-07:00

Yoga Nook

2008-09-30T13:48:00.000-07:00

About two weeks ago I moved into a beautiful Spanish-style home at the base of the mountains in Glendale. This is my new "yoga nook" in the front room where I'm continuing my journey as yoga student and teacher.

29 Gifts

2008-09-29T11:29:00.000-07:00

Today I stumbled upon the most interesting website called 29 Gifts in 29 Days. The idea is to give something away everyday for 29 days. It can be time, money, an object, a compliment, or anything at all you can think of that is worth giving. Keep track of the gifts and the impact the giving has on your life and then (if you're compelled to do so) write about it. 200 hundred of the stories will be selected and gathered for publication in a book entitled "The Healing Power of Giving." To participate in the challenge and get more details visit the website:
http://www.29gifts.org

Please see my "Favorite Links" list to the left to link to the site directly from this page.

Happy Giving!

The Youngest Admirer Yet

2008-09-11T19:40:00.000-07:00

Cruising down the alley towards the street on my Vespa, I caught a glimpse of two big blue eyes and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. His ill fitting bicycle helmet slipping to one side of his head and his sight fixed on the Vespa, he exclaimed to his friends, "Wow! That thing is cool!"

I gave him a big smile and kept scootin' down the alley. Before I had a chance to come to a complete stop at the end of the driveway I heard his voice trailing behind me.

"Hey! How much did you pay for that thing?" He yelled out to me as his little legs peddled his bicycle with training wheels as fast as he could towards me and the Vespa.

"About five thousand."

"Wow, really?" He said, as if five grand would be no big deal for a seven year old to come up with.

"Yea, but I don't think you're quite old enough to get one yet."

"I know...," he said disappointedly with a coy smile.

Ah, a boy after my own heart...