Channel surfing? Yeah, there are those who will do just that behind big ships and surfing in their wakes. However, I'm really referring to channel surfing, as in television channels. I visit a nursing home once, sometimes twice, a week. I visit several of the residents regularly, but, occasionally, I meet someone new. This past week, though, was a little different. Although I arrived during what should have been dinner, most in the main dining room had finished. I was greeted by my three favorite guys. Mr. R. approached me quickly. He was obviously upset. A victim of a stroke, Mr. R. can't speak. Neither can his tablemate (another Mr. R.). The third at the table, Ray, can talk. They are all sitting in the circle around the nurses' station. Mr. R. tries to tell me something, but I'm not sure what he is saying. At one point, he raises his index finger to his cheek. Although he's never asked for a kiss on the cheek, I think that is what he wants and, so, I bend down and kiss his cheek. He disgustedly shakes his head no. This is not what he wants. He grabs his newspaper and points down at something. Oh, I think, he wants to watch the homerun derby on ESPN. I ask him why he isn't watching it. An avid baseball fan, Mr. R. always has a game on the big screen TV he has in his rather small, shared room. He shakes his head and points at the newspaper listing again. I can't figure out what he wants. Finally, I think he wants me to go to his room; so we do. Once inside, he draws something in the air with his index finger. It's the number "37." So, I turn the channel to 37. It's a Spanish channel, which makes him very upset. I realize he is looking for ESPN. He's trying to tell me it should be channel 37. I scroll through the other channels and find ESPN News and ESPN2. He points out the difference in the bottom, right-hand corner of the screen. He can't figure out what happened to his ESPN. He tries to tell me two guys had come into his room earlier. Ray, who has rolled in behind us, tries to translate and says two guys took some chips out of the TV. I'm not sure what to believe at this point. Eventually, Mr. R. gets frustrated and rolls down the hall where he bursts into tears. I walk out and put my hand on his shoulder, but there's nothing I can do. I can't fix it. I asked the nurse for the maintenance man, Paul, so that I could figure out what happened, but, as luck would have it, Paul is gone for the day. I lean down and gently kiss his forehead and walk away. I put my hand on Ray's shoulder and tell him thanks for his help. Ray just shrugs. He hates to see his friend so upset. I don't want to believe that they would do something to his TV. When I eventually get a hold of Paul the next day, he tells me that the channels changed more than six months ago and that they got rid of ESPN so that they could add Fox sports, which offers more Astros games. I want to believe him, but I am perplexed that Mr. R. knew what channel ESPN would be. If, in fact, it had been six months, he wouldn't have remembered ESPN's channel number. I wish there was something I could do. I'm using my surfing blog to speak out about this because I fear it will remain on my mind and, possibly, slow down my own surfing this weekend. But, sadly, I can watch ESPN if I want. Getting old can suck sometimes. Hang in there Mr. R.
In other surfing news, I met a 6-ft. blonde female surfer last Sunday. She definitely caught everyone's eye. I walked over and introduced myself. I asked her if she had trouble popping up; since several people have told me that being tall is detrimental for the pop up. It's definitely something I need work on because of my height. She said no, it just takes practice. She told me she had been surfing for three years. I told her I wanted to watch her surf as she smiled, put on her rash guard and paddled out. She had beautiful form. It all looked so easy for her. Practice...that's all I need. I hope to be as good as her in three years!
