Sparky, his 21 year-old chihuahua, was put to sleep a few days before Victor fell down and broke his hip. The operation was a success, so say the medical professionals. His house was put on the market yesterday. Life is so short and death is sometimes too quick.
The Dali Museum was doing an architectural tour of the edifice that holds their treasure. I ddn’t know I would be arriving just in the nick of time to join the docent tour. “Are you arriving with a guest today? an attractive woman asked me. I looked to my side if a woman had suddenly attached herself to me. It has happened to me before but this time I said. “No, not today. But if she wasn’t waiting for me at the desk after parking the car, then I think I lost her.” She cracked up with laughter. I don’t think I’m usually funny but I guess after all the tragedy around us, laughter or making someone laugh without trying is good for the soul. My soul.
After the tour ended, I asked the docent if she could point me to the painting she referred as being created using the Fibonacci sequence. I had seen this one many times and never noticed what she had pointed out during the tour.
Normally I avoid docent tours, I’m too restless to follow slowly a bunch of tourists with their cameras. Don’t mind, me but most of the times, I’m the tourist doing the Japanese way of visiting a country. Picture after picture after picture…
I thanked the docent for her tour and hazarded asking her, “Do you know where the “Holocaust Museum is located.” She wasn’t sure, but she knew a trolley stop where you can hop on and off to see all the sights without having to burn any calories. She referred me to the desk, and of course I went straight to my woman at the desk. She wasn’t sure. “There are pamphlets across the aisle from the bathroom.” she said.
I know those files with thousands of little cards with maps the size of a flea. I couldn’t find anything, which isn’t unusual for a man. To my left two ladies opened a door and both had badges on theirt chest. Both knew but one stopped to decipher the map. She game me a good idea of where it was located. “Don’t you have your phone on you?” “No” I answered. “I left it at home.” Sometimes I don’t carry a phone with me, that’s true. But in reality I did have it in my shirt’s pocket. I was too embarrased to show her my phone. A dinosaur of a phone with a solid keyboard for texting! Too bad I don’t do much of that either. Then she said, “You can’t miss it!” Oh boy I thought, now I know I’m going to miss it. It’s on Central Avenue around 4th or 5th street.
As I approached 3rd and Central Ave, I made a left then a right and parked by the first open spot on the corner of 5th Avenue and 2nd Street. I walked like a tourist looking to my right at the YMCA building. I convinced myself not to take any pictures. I arrived at the next corner 3rd Street to see a man screech to a stop on his bicycle. I said, “I bet you know your way around this area.” “What can I help you my man,”he said. He pointed me in the wrong direction back towards the Dali Museum. I followed his exact instructions to end up at another corner to ask a man with a woman the same question. From the vantage point we were standing he pointed to a building on the left. It’s either the first white one or the second. His girlfriend was already walking away from us, back to her building.
I crossed the street, took a picture of them walking hand in hand. Reached the original corner where I asked the cyclist and voilà there was the holocaust museum. If I hadn’t asked for directions I would have seen the Holocaust Museum.
Alicia: My Story by Alicia Appleman- Jurman