Up with People!

There is this Improv Character I have been working on lately. He is a former member of the Up With People Singers. You remember those folks. Launched largely in response to the surprisingly popular Down With People Singers, this slap-happy corp d'positive performed sweater-clad song and dance numbers proclaiming the basic goodness of people everywhere. If someone pushed the envelope a bit during a Super Bowl halftime show, you knew the punishment would be the Up With People Singers performing the following year.
Anyway, this character I am working on is a midlife washed out Up With People singer. He was shunned by the other singers and still managed to find the positive side of it. Now days he breaks into spontaneous song over things both random and wholly unworthy of celebration. My girlfriend, Lin, and I were shopping for food supplies for the climb at Costco the other day when I slipped into this character. She said something about Oatmeal. I sang "Talkin' 'bout (CLAP CLAP) OAT MEAL! It's the way I feel! I eat it lumpy. Like it bumpy. Can't be grumpy. Gimme some-py. Hear me now I'm gettin' real! Talkin' 'bout (CLAP CLAP) OAT MEAL!" This went on as I celebrated Cliff Bars, Fruit Leather, and (though it's not going on the climb) Feta Cheese.

Lin is a good sport. Which is to say she indulges me even when the price is public humiliation. She is a sweet sweet Lady, and I am going to miss her while I'm gone. She is my Love.

Lin also indulges me with my climbing. Not everyone does. The nature of these climbs stirs complicated feelings within those closest to me. I try to listen and offer reassurance, but in the end we each make peace in the terms of our choosing.
I recently asked Lin if she would articulate her feelings about my climbing in a letter I might share with readers of this Blog. She did so, but the touching and deeply personal words felt too private to share here verbatim. So I will paraphrase.

She writes about trust in a relationship, in all of its forms, and the trust she has in me, then concluding "I trust you know when to back off and when it's safe to leap forward." She writes about the importance of having a passion, her own being gardening. Noting the work, expense, and uncertainties associated with this, Lin concedes her dedication to this activity makes little sense to some. Yet it is her passion and it brings her joy. "I personally can't relate to the joy you get from a mountain climb," she then writes. "It seems brutal. The long climb, the cold, the wind, the icky food, etc. But only you know the incredible, exhilarating feeling when you arrive at the top.It must be and feel so beautiful, a sense of accomplishment, a conquering." Lin acknowledges her "internal worries", but ultimately finds comfort in the belief that our passions drive our destiny.

Little wonder we get along so well...