Day 321 - Nonchalant Observer -Installment #10– Deerfield Spa

June 25th, 2010

Today is my 9th installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. You came with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York on day 141 and you joined me as I was being shot in a piece for Current TV on day 205. On Day 210, you were part of my Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday celebration in Charlotte, North Carolina. Day 263 was when I stood like a hooker with Marc Jacobs sunglasses and observed the environment on the corner of 49th and Madison in Manhattan. An excursion to Six Flags Great Adventure was our journey on day 284. Most recently, on day 305, we sauntered to where the beach is wide and the sand is soft, Sullivan's Island, South Carolina.

Today I write to you from a Victorian porch at Deerfield Spa, a mountain retreat situated on 12 acres in Pennsylvania's Pocono Mountains. I was asked to teach my comedy improv "Humor for Health" workshop at this resort who's guests come for several days to relax, eat all healthy-like, exercise and get pampered with a variety of spa services. There is a happy ending. No. Not that kind. Perv. The final result for a typical spa-goer is leaving with a peaceful sense of contentment in matters related to mind, body and spirit. My friend Katy is joining me for this weekend of "work" and now, join me if you will, as I segue into what I have nonchalantly observed.

9:19 - The morning started off in Brooklyn and I stood on the corner of Clinton and Degraw(like a street walker with a backpack filled with yoga pants, bikinis and jeer), met my friend Katy and took the subway to Port Authority to catch our bus.

10:02 - We arrived at Port Authority. Imagine living in a beehive, being the pieces shaken up in a Boggle game or living in the psychedelic corners Jim of Carrey's head. Being encapsulated in Port Authority is worse. The maniacal carnival subsided when we headed down to the dungeon to board the Martz bus, a "lesser than" Greyhound that gave me a flashback to a junior high field trip to go see a community theater production of O'Henry's "The Gift of the Magi". The watch...the combs...great love story.

11:13 - During the 1 1/2 bus ride, Katy and I entertained ourselves with the sophisticated reading material that she brought along: "The New York Post"("The Onion"...without the humor) and an "Us Weekly" (looks like Megan Fox has had some plastic surgery. I also hear that she has some deformed mangled thumb. At least she seems nice. Oh, she's not? My bad.)

11:45 - We got off at our bus stop in Random, Small Town Pennsylvania. During the 10 minute cab ride to the spa, I saw 3 baby ponies. BABY PONIES! If that does not touch you in the heart area....you are dead inside. Still feel nothing? Come on...it's not like I said, "I saw 3 baby ponies...and they were delicious."

12:34 - We arrive at Deerfield and are graciously greeted by the peppy owner and filled out our paperwork. For "emergency contact", we were tempted to put our neighborhood friend, Paul Hale. He's the very much loved and reliable nucleus of our friends in Brooklyn( and would most likely play Bosley in "Charlie''s Angels".) I am absolutely confident that Paul would be here in an instant if Katy and I were to get into a freak Swedish massage accident.

1:11 - We go to the dining hall for a late lunch. My side salad had flair, a rose petal.

2:01 - Most of the guests here are women but there are some males on staff who are delightful to look at. I have a boyfriend...but for Katy's sake....I hope they are naughty pool boys.

2:30 - Water Aerobics. In a bikini. Not recommended.

3:18 - The spa does not serve alcohol and only offers coffee in the morning. As I'm laying by the pool, I see a sprightly young woman drinking an ice coffee. she brought a coffee maker and was dealing the hard stuff from her room. We made an exchange.

4:45 - I started writing my blog on a rocking chair on the porch. If there was a banjo within arms reach, I would have played it and challenged a stranger about to get reflexology to a duel.

6:32 - For dinner, I ate orange roughy and thought back to a nice guy I dated my freshman year in high school, Ruffie. In driver's ed, my friend handed me a cut out of a fish. In a condom. This was the same person who had passed me a note a few years earlier, in 7th grade, with the claw from the crawfish that she had dissected that day. Bless her heart.

8:45 - I taught a comedy improv workshop to an incredibly open minded, spirited and kind group of people. I love what I do. I do what I love. I can't believe I get paid for this shit.