I apologize it's taken me so long to get this second part of the Best/Worst of Mootis series up. Our biking days were so long this week with the heat that I was often literally falling asleep while blogging on my little phone from our various locations. There was at least one instance in which I opened my eyes to a entry draft that had trailed off with "mmmmmzergw342qadf..." etc. But here I am, on our second day off in Minneapolis, where the heat has subsided to a balmy 86 degrees, ready to spin a few Mootis yarns for y'all. Here goes:
WORST MOOTIS MOMENT, WEEK TWO: Early in the second week of our trip, as we were biking to breakfast on a long country road, a few deer leaped from the woods into the street in front of us. Sure, it was startling, but in that awe-inducing way. At least, that's what I thought. We both slowed our bikes and the younger deer pranced off into the field across the way. The other, presumably the Mama, remained there, not moving. You know, doe-in-headlights. Typical. If we continued on, we'd be within a few feet of her. We slowed more. She didn't budge. Then, our friend Mootis started yelling: "GIT! EY! EY!" This went on for a few more seconds, until his bike was within a tire's length of her and with one jump, she was in the field. I had taken on a similar disposition to the doe by now, still with shock as my bike continued down the road. Then, I let out a guffaw and asked Mootis why he yelled at the deer. "She was real close to me and she wouldn't move. It freaked me out!" I reminded him that a) it's common knowledge that deer freeze up in such situations and b) a doe is pretty much the most defenseless animal that exists. He stood by his freaked-out-ness. I wonder how this will translate to the buffalo and other large animals we almost certainly see as we head further west.
(I should also note that Mootis had a very similar reaction a few days later when he was being chased by a very serious-looking doberman who was unsecured while in the front lawn with his owner in northern Illinois. This was a reasonable reaction, given the circumstances and mine was similar when the dog headed my way. I also added a, "CONTROL YOUR DOG, LADY!" to the owner, who was meekly calling the dog's name from her front porch. Sheesh.)
BEST MOOTIS MOMENT, WEEK TWO: As we were packing up our campsite somewhere in Illinois one morning, during the hour when I usually respond to everything Mootis says or does with, "Why are you talking? Stop talking so much. You're being too loud," Mootis began to sing a little song. It went like this:
"We're the members of the All-American League,
We come from cities near and far,
We've got Canadians, [somethingsomething] and Swedes,
We're all for one, we're one for all, we're all American."
He may have continued. I was too busy trying to remember where I'd heard the song. Five points if you know. Got it? I didn't. When he was done singing, and I admitted knowing of the song but not remembering its origin, he told me: A League of Their Own. Yes, the 1992 hit film about the all-female baseball league that existed during World War II, which featured Geena Davis, Rosie O'Donnell, Madonna and Mr. "There's no crying in baseball" himself, Tom Hanks. As soon as Mootis reminded me, I remembered the girls singing in the locker room. We then chatted about the movie and it became clear to me that I am dating a man who knows that film extremely well. He remembered several of the characters' first and last names and other details about the plot that I'd long forgotten. It was impressive, to say the least. And I mean that in the truest sense of the word: it left an impression. While it makes perfect sense to me that I remember A League of Their Own with fondness - I was 10 when it came out and I believe it was the first movie (maybe aside from Dumbo) that made me cry (that scene when Tom Hanks' character delivers the news to one of the ballplayers about her husband's death ... the slow walk down the line in the locker room ... ugh), it was shocking that Mootis, a 13 year-old boy at the time, would have been so engaged with the film. So cheers to you, Mootis. Go Rockford Peaches!