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NauenThen

The snow chronicles XI: Slovenians

For years I've said hello & nothing more to one of the elderly janitors at YAI, where I help teach karate once a week to developmentally delayed adults. I actually wasn't sure if he was YAI or not, due to his heavy accent. Last night when I was leaving, I waved & idly asked if he was enjoying the cold weather. Oh boy!

He lights up as he tells me how much he loves the snow. He takes every other Friday off & goes to Pennsylvania to ski. He grew up on skis in Yugoslavia & apparently everyone is amazed at his skill. He hits his chest: I can breathe! At last I can breathe! And sleep.

When he adds that he's Slovenian, I tell him the most fun I ever had in my life was at a Slovenian wedding in Cleveland in 1979.

And so we become fast friends. We say our names, Reza & Elinor, & he takes off his work glove to shake hands with European courtesy.

I skedaddle at that point because I can't take whatever extravagance might happen next in his beamishness.

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