While you're never sure what comes out of his mouth...be certain his heart is pure. A fast-paced, funny show that is safe for the whole family.
“Can you hear me now…??”
I’m at a stage in life where I either can’t hear what people are saying or I’m just not listening. Or both.
My wife Betsy has a soft voice. She likes to ask me questions while I’m running a leaf blower two blocks down the street. When we are with friends in a crowded restaurant, I really have to “tune in” to their conversation. I have now asked them to write down what they are saying on a napkin and slide it over to me. If the waiter takes the napkin away while I’m not looking, the rest of the night can become fairly quiet.
I’m not alone on this idea of communication. That’s why we’ve made a point to curb our dining experiences at ethnic places, as well. I’m certain the words “chicken taco” came out of my mouth but often I’ll end up with chicken nuggets. I’ve learned to just point at a picture on the menu. Or..I’ll write it down on a napkin.
I also have communication issues with taxi drivers AND trouble shooters on the phone. I’ve tried to explain to both groups of people that I have difficulity understanding my own wife and to be patient with me. But to them it must sound like, “I’m having trouble with my life and I’m a patient.”
Recently, I was in the back of a cab in New Orleans late for a speaking engagement. I asked the driver to go as quickly as possible to my venue. No response. I tried to create idle chit-chat about the weather. He simply gave a nod of the head. His ID that hung in his taxi stated he was from Haiti. I’ve been there numerous times and tried to engage him about his country. Again…he gave me the bobble-head.
Two blocks and 25 minutes from when I was to go onstage, my mute Haitian friend slammed on the brakes!! I heard cars behind us hit their brakes and tires squealed to prevent a pile up. Horns were blaring and locals were swearing…(not a country music song). My taxi driver calmly points toward the front of his car and says, “Toto”. I was in a state of disbelief. This guy has said nothing all the way from the airport and now he thinks he’s in Oz?
Cars began inching around us and drivers are giving him the universal signal for “You’re an idiot.” He doesn’t care. He continues pointing toward the front of the taxi, glancing back and forth at me and repeating, “Toto”.
At this point, I actually believed a voodoo witch doctor/uncle from his native homeland had cast a spell on him. I throw some money over the seat, open the door and before I could take three steps….come face to face with “Toto”. The biggest turtle I had ever seen doing his best to cross Canal St in downtown New Orleans.
Time was crucial at this point. But instead of rushing to the job, the driver and myself leaned against the taxi in the middle of the street and patiently watched as this beautiful turtle or “Toto” in Creole-English, made his way to safety.
Seems the best moments in life are the ones in which no words are spoken.
Great having ya here this weekend son. Love ya bud.
One more flight and a dogsled ride and I’ll be in Grand Forks, North Dakota.
