I was recently in a hospital waiting room, which is an interesting place to study human behavior. Let’s face it, no one is there because they are having a great day. You go there for health concerns. Frequently, I will travel to do a hospital visit and the parishioner that I am intending to see is having an MRI, or a CAT scan or some other test. So, I wait in the lobby, rather than not see the person after travelling all that way. Sometimes it can take a while. I try to ignore the television, which is often on a channel that features reality TV or some other divisive thing. People will offer live commentary on the program on the television, I think as a way to reach out to others. It can be a full living room, and each person is utterly alone as they wait for the doctor to come out with news about their loved one.
“Who in their right mind would do that?” someone will say.
“How about it?” another will answer. Boom, strangers become friends, or at least social to one another and can fill the time with small talk that temporarily relieves the mind from a downward spiral that is destined to contemplate the worst-case scenario. I try to help people in the waiting room in this fashion. On this particular day, I picked up a copy of State College Magazine, and browsed the contents. State College is home of The Penn State University (they insist that you capitalize The) and the town is an interesting mix of academics and what I call regular people. There was an article on goat yoga.
Now, I am no yoga expert, by any means. I was challenged to try it once, and it was a series of poses that are held for a length of time. Eventually they get difficult to hold, because although you aren’t lifting weights, there is a limit to how long you can hold your own body parts in a position. Remember raising your hand in school, and they would count the hands, and eventually your arm got tired? Perhaps you have had to do the “dead cockroach” as a punishment on a sports team, where you lay on your back, and hold your arms and legs in the air. I don’t know how long this punishment is supposed to last, but coaches tend to keep you in that position until all four of your limbs quiver, turn to Jell-O, and collapse to the ground. Then they make you do push-ups.
So, a yoga expert I am not, but I know that the exercises can be difficult, and like any exercise, you feel relaxed at the end. This article, however, mentioned some summer activities that the State College resident might want to do, and one was a trip to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, where you can do yoga with 10 miniature goats running around you. The article quoted an expert on Goat yoga, and she said that it is just like regular yoga, except you might have a goat sneeze in your face or poop on your mat. Get this, you only have to pay $35 to have an hour of goat mucus in your face and turds under your body. So, that sounds like a real deal there. That one hour experience is limited to a class of 30. The article didn’t say why the class was limited to 30, but I would presume that each goat probably has a limit of snot and poo. 30 would make a 3 people to 1 goat ratio, and that probably ensures that each person gets to really smell a goat and get their full $35 worth of goat yoga. The owner makes $1,050.00 in that hour, which is a good wage.
I only know a few people that do yoga regularly, and both are prone to go on an all juice diet at times. They will make juice out of any combination of things, often vegetables. I tried the juice once, when a gal that works with my wife, Renee, stopped by at supper time. We were having a cookout, but she was a vegan and brought her own food. The juice was part of a cleanse. She was kind of an evangelist for veganism, and brought samples for everyone to try. Have you ever drunk V-8 Juice? This stuff was nothing like that.
“How is it?” She asked me.
“What is it supposed to taste like?” I asked.
“What do you taste?”
“Garlic,” I said.
“Yeah, that helps the taste a lot,” she said, “It is cabbage, celery, lettuce, and spinach.”
“Those things all taste good,” I said.
“But it can be kinda tasteless once you remove the pulp. You get mostly water on the other side. I had an onion infused version for lunch.”
“Good thing you and my wife do a lot of work online, with all the garlic and onions, you might really stink up a room,” I said.
“What?” she looked perturbed.
“Not me, I love garlic. But it can be hard when I visit people. I used to eat raw leeks as a kid. They grew right next to the school. They taste like a mixture of onions and garlic. At recess, we would go the woods line, eat some, and get sent home from school for smelling bad.”
“I have had leeks from the store, and they do not taste like that.”
“These grow in the wild, in the spring, and are sometimes called ramps,” I explained.
“I need some of those for my juice.”
“I will give you some next year.”
“Can I go with you?”
“I don’t know. I try not to share the spots where they grow. If they are over harvested, they will not grow back. People that use then as a side dish will often pick too many. Why, you are basically planning to live on liquefied leeks for a month. I will get you a good batch. Nothing personal.” Needless to say, she took it personal.
Renee knows another yoga enthusiast who is not a vegan. She will eat eggs, and at times fish. She will occasionally eat chicken, the way that some people will occasionally eat a steak. Her name is Sue.
“You do the juice cleanses?” I asked her.
“No,” she said, “I prefer salads and utilize a coffee cleanse.”
“I hear ya.” I said, “Coffee has that effect on me too.”
“You don’t understand,” Sue said.
“I do too,” I said, “It isn’t a polite topic for adults to discuss, but a lot of people have to go do number two after having coffee.”
“It is a coffee colonic cleanse,” she said.
“Pardon me?”
“It is a coffee cleanse utilizing an enema,” she said. I was speechless. “What are you thinking?” she asked me.
“I am guessing you have to let the coffee cool off first,” I said, and that was the end of the conversation.
But, I got to thinking about it, and I could probably start a Beagle Yoga. I wouldn’t be as greedy, I would only charge $20 per person. However, anyone that knows a beagle knows that they can easily give attention to 5 people at least. So, my class would still have 30 students. They would set their mats on the ground inside my fenced yard. Next, I would pulverize 4 bags of the Snausage dog treats. My dogs love those. I would then scatter the Snausage dust all around the yoga mats. That is going to guarantee some face to face time with a beagle. Heck, it might even ensure some massive tail wags against your face if you are in one of those positions where your head is on the ground.
The overexcitement from the favorite treat would no doubt induce some reverse sneezing that beagles are known for. The reverse sneeze would be just as amazing as the goats’ forward sneeze, but you would not get your face wet. While I doubt that the beagles would poop on a mat, I can obviously just not clean the yard on the day before the class. This might ensure that a couple random yogis would put their mats on top of some processed Purina.
The goat yoga website also mentioned that they have a goat yoga/wine tasting event as well. That involves hauling the goats to a winery, and they can combine goat yoga and wine. It costs $50 each. Again, I think I can come in at a better price. For $40, I will take you to the woods and you get to listen to the beagles chase rabbits. The sound of hounds chasing would be the elevated version, better than watching them eat snacks. The $40 is a steal, because everyone knows that I will be there for more than an hour. We will do this yoga class at dawn. When we get done running dogs, I will have coffee for everyone. Use it however you want…
“Who in their right mind would do that?” someone will say.
“How about it?” another will answer. Boom, strangers become friends, or at least social to one another and can fill the time with small talk that temporarily relieves the mind from a downward spiral that is destined to contemplate the worst-case scenario. I try to help people in the waiting room in this fashion. On this particular day, I picked up a copy of State College Magazine, and browsed the contents. State College is home of The Penn State University (they insist that you capitalize The) and the town is an interesting mix of academics and what I call regular people. There was an article on goat yoga.
Now, I am no yoga expert, by any means. I was challenged to try it once, and it was a series of poses that are held for a length of time. Eventually they get difficult to hold, because although you aren’t lifting weights, there is a limit to how long you can hold your own body parts in a position. Remember raising your hand in school, and they would count the hands, and eventually your arm got tired? Perhaps you have had to do the “dead cockroach” as a punishment on a sports team, where you lay on your back, and hold your arms and legs in the air. I don’t know how long this punishment is supposed to last, but coaches tend to keep you in that position until all four of your limbs quiver, turn to Jell-O, and collapse to the ground. Then they make you do push-ups.
So, a yoga expert I am not, but I know that the exercises can be difficult, and like any exercise, you feel relaxed at the end. This article, however, mentioned some summer activities that the State College resident might want to do, and one was a trip to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, where you can do yoga with 10 miniature goats running around you. The article quoted an expert on Goat yoga, and she said that it is just like regular yoga, except you might have a goat sneeze in your face or poop on your mat. Get this, you only have to pay $35 to have an hour of goat mucus in your face and turds under your body. So, that sounds like a real deal there. That one hour experience is limited to a class of 30. The article didn’t say why the class was limited to 30, but I would presume that each goat probably has a limit of snot and poo. 30 would make a 3 people to 1 goat ratio, and that probably ensures that each person gets to really smell a goat and get their full $35 worth of goat yoga. The owner makes $1,050.00 in that hour, which is a good wage.
I only know a few people that do yoga regularly, and both are prone to go on an all juice diet at times. They will make juice out of any combination of things, often vegetables. I tried the juice once, when a gal that works with my wife, Renee, stopped by at supper time. We were having a cookout, but she was a vegan and brought her own food. The juice was part of a cleanse. She was kind of an evangelist for veganism, and brought samples for everyone to try. Have you ever drunk V-8 Juice? This stuff was nothing like that.
“How is it?” She asked me.
“What is it supposed to taste like?” I asked.
“What do you taste?”
“Garlic,” I said.
“Yeah, that helps the taste a lot,” she said, “It is cabbage, celery, lettuce, and spinach.”
“Those things all taste good,” I said.
“But it can be kinda tasteless once you remove the pulp. You get mostly water on the other side. I had an onion infused version for lunch.”
“Good thing you and my wife do a lot of work online, with all the garlic and onions, you might really stink up a room,” I said.
“What?” she looked perturbed.
“Not me, I love garlic. But it can be hard when I visit people. I used to eat raw leeks as a kid. They grew right next to the school. They taste like a mixture of onions and garlic. At recess, we would go the woods line, eat some, and get sent home from school for smelling bad.”
“I have had leeks from the store, and they do not taste like that.”
“These grow in the wild, in the spring, and are sometimes called ramps,” I explained.
“I need some of those for my juice.”
“I will give you some next year.”
“Can I go with you?”
“I don’t know. I try not to share the spots where they grow. If they are over harvested, they will not grow back. People that use then as a side dish will often pick too many. Why, you are basically planning to live on liquefied leeks for a month. I will get you a good batch. Nothing personal.” Needless to say, she took it personal.
Renee knows another yoga enthusiast who is not a vegan. She will eat eggs, and at times fish. She will occasionally eat chicken, the way that some people will occasionally eat a steak. Her name is Sue.
“You do the juice cleanses?” I asked her.
“No,” she said, “I prefer salads and utilize a coffee cleanse.”
“I hear ya.” I said, “Coffee has that effect on me too.”
“You don’t understand,” Sue said.
“I do too,” I said, “It isn’t a polite topic for adults to discuss, but a lot of people have to go do number two after having coffee.”
“It is a coffee colonic cleanse,” she said.
“Pardon me?”
“It is a coffee cleanse utilizing an enema,” she said. I was speechless. “What are you thinking?” she asked me.
“I am guessing you have to let the coffee cool off first,” I said, and that was the end of the conversation.
But, I got to thinking about it, and I could probably start a Beagle Yoga. I wouldn’t be as greedy, I would only charge $20 per person. However, anyone that knows a beagle knows that they can easily give attention to 5 people at least. So, my class would still have 30 students. They would set their mats on the ground inside my fenced yard. Next, I would pulverize 4 bags of the Snausage dog treats. My dogs love those. I would then scatter the Snausage dust all around the yoga mats. That is going to guarantee some face to face time with a beagle. Heck, it might even ensure some massive tail wags against your face if you are in one of those positions where your head is on the ground.
The overexcitement from the favorite treat would no doubt induce some reverse sneezing that beagles are known for. The reverse sneeze would be just as amazing as the goats’ forward sneeze, but you would not get your face wet. While I doubt that the beagles would poop on a mat, I can obviously just not clean the yard on the day before the class. This might ensure that a couple random yogis would put their mats on top of some processed Purina.
The goat yoga website also mentioned that they have a goat yoga/wine tasting event as well. That involves hauling the goats to a winery, and they can combine goat yoga and wine. It costs $50 each. Again, I think I can come in at a better price. For $40, I will take you to the woods and you get to listen to the beagles chase rabbits. The sound of hounds chasing would be the elevated version, better than watching them eat snacks. The $40 is a steal, because everyone knows that I will be there for more than an hour. We will do this yoga class at dawn. When we get done running dogs, I will have coffee for everyone. Use it however you want…
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