The Inimitable Mrs. Melmac

Every once in a very long while one is priviledged to meet a person of unswerving ideals and iron-core strength, a person who lives life according to her beliefs, and makes no compromises for the sake of us lesser beings. Just such a person is Mrs. Velma Melmac, the defacto Queen and Tidiness Czar of the Yosemite Valley.
I first met Mrs. Melmac in the cartoons of Phil Frank, who was drawing Mrs. Melmac's home cartoon, Farley, exclusively for the San Francisco Chronicle until his untimely death a couple of years ago. Although I have not heard anything new about Mrs. Melmac since then, her exploits, as documented in Frank's Fur and Loafing in Yosemite, continue to inspire, entertain, and educate me every time my son requests this book for his bedtime reading (His other bedtime favorite is Jeff Smith's Bone, as long as I skip the parts with the rat creatures and Kingdok. But I digress...)
Mrs. Melmac lives in Manteca, California. Every summer, she fires up her Wapama motor home, loads up her Tojo Vac 'n' Blo, and with Max, her hairless chiuaua, as copilot, she drives to Yosemite to take up residence, where she will stay until some time in Autumn, when the first acorn lands in her vodka tonic (this last event may in fact be staged by park personnel desperate to get her to leave).
Mrs. Melmac runs a very tidy camp. Her motto--tatooed on her arm--is, "Death to Dirt," and she has often been known to utter the words, "Mother Nature is a slob." (I have to admit that she has a good point: have you ever been in a forest after a windstorm? Sheez! But I digress. Again.) Once the Astroturf and rocket-propelled canopy have been deployed, Mrs. Melmac does not just sit on her duff and pop a cold one like any other camper would do at this point. No, she does not rest until her campsite is devoid of all pine needles, dirt, and bugs, the bugs most likely having been dispatched by highly-explosive bug bombs. Indeed, one of the local bears even mentions her having deployed a neutron bug bomb some time ago.
Mrs. Melmac has a heart of gold. After the flood of January, 1997, Mrs. Melmac, knowing that she was desparately needed, made a special winter trip to Yosemite to help with the cleanup. With her Tojo Vac 'n' Blo plus 1500-foot extension cord, she was just the person for the job, although she did encounter some difficulty when her Vac 'n' Blo locked onto a boulder and held her pinned in place. Luckily, Max ran for help, and ranger Stern Grove, who had studied Barkphonics and so was able to understand Max, rescued her just before she had finished her last Pall Mall.
Mrs. Melmac is also a former champion of the State Parks Olympics (held in Asphalt State Park), often having won her competitions through sheer forfeiture-inspiring intimidation.
I am looking forward to enjoying more of Mrs. Melmac's exploits, and lucky for me, I have not yet read Eat, Drink, and be Hairy. I suppose that after reading that book, I will have to content myself with re-reading her adventures with my son, as I have been doing with Fur and Loafing.
I still miss Phil Frank's daily (except for Saturdays) cartoon in the Chronicle. While he was alive, I had his cartoon set in my web browser as my home page. Mr. Frank was a shining star, having given so many of us a daily (except for Saturdays) laugh for many years.

Mindfulness Personified

My family and I spent the holidays in Portland, Oregon, with my sister-in-law and her husband. Joining us there were the better part of my wife's family--brother, sister, mom, and assorted partners and children, all spread out across a couple of "not-so-big" (but very welcoming) houses.
I had been steeling myself for this trip, as I really prefer a more low-key approach to the holidays than this. In times gone by, I have even skipped Christmas altogether, opting to stay home and go for a long walk on the beach.
To my surprise, I realized that I was beginning to feel relaxed and refreshed a couple of days after having arrived, and this in spite of the crowded conditions and depression that I usually have around the holidays. I didn't think anymore about this until my counselor asked me about it (okay, I thought about it enough to mention it to him): what, he asked, about Brant might have contributed to my enjoyment of this visit?
My sister-in-law and her husband, Brant, run a yoga studio. In addition to teaching yoga, Brant has been leading Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction ("MBSR," in the pro lingo) seminars at the studio. Between the yoga and the MBSR, this pair packs a formidable punch for improving the lives of stressed-out Portlanders.
One of the tenants of MBSR is to be "present" in the sense that, rather than checking out or, alternatively, driving yourself crazy with negativity, you become a neutral observer of yourself and your surroundings. You can watch your breath, observe your attachments to particular outcomes, observe how you move, and, with lots of practice, begin to watch all of those thoughts and emotions cruise by without getting caught up in them. Or, at least you can increase your awareness of being caught up by your emotions, and this awareness alone can allow you to get off of the emotional roller-coaster more quickly than if you are being swept along with no real idea of what's happening.
Thinking back on how Brant comported himself during the holiday chaos, he was always with us in a way that allowed him to relax and rest when needed, but still be fun, creative, and engaging. I think that my counselor was suggesting that I was relaxed because Brant was relaxed. I like that thought, and I think that there is something to it.
It helps, too, that I enjoy the company of my wife's family. Like my wife, her siblings and other relations are a bright bunch with lots of interests. There is always interesting conversation to be had.
Although I was tired and ready to be home when it was all over, I think that this was one very successful holiday trip, and I intend to continue my education in the ways of MBSR.