My name is Liz Johnson and I'll be teaching the new 65+ class at the studio beginning two weeks from Thursday. I am so excited for this opportunity as it combines three of literally thousands of passions in my life: My childhood dream of permanent relocation to IF (at least until I'm legally allowed to cross the border into Canada again--just kidding!), yoga (of course!) and really, really old people who've surrendered to the notion of permanent physical and mental inflexibility.
A bit about me: I grew up in Bemidji, MN the third of five kids--for those of you who can tell the difference between median, mean and mode-- there are no middle child issues here. I just want everyone to be happy and get along! As a kid I came to know International Falls every summer by way of stopover from Bemidji to my Uncle Tom's cabin near Lake of the Woods. For those of you keen on geography and "as the crow flies" directions, IF is not (at all) on the way from the curling capital to Muskeg Bay. Nonetheless, we'd pack up the '67 vw bus and travel by way of the Icebox of the Nation (given that it was summer, I never did understand that) to spend three months at the campground at Zippel Bay. I guess it was my mom who felt strongly that, being from another city of large folkloric statues (ref: Paul Bunyan and his ox, Babe), and that we should, by reason of lighthearted rapport, satisfy both nature's call and a break for picnic lunch with a visit to Smokey Bear Park.
My brother Magic (no, not that one) and I still reminisce about counting down the 4 hours and 8 minutes of the drive to Zippel and it had nothing to do with, believe it or not, the excitement of spending the summer at one of the ten (I believe the title is still debated) Walleye Capitals of the World. It was the car sickness. Or what we thought was car sickness until it was discovered in the winter of '75 that carbon monoxide from the rear-installed engine of the VW was leaking into the bus from the rusted out floorboards.
Anyway, my introduction is starting to be a bit of a ramble so I'll just say I'm so happy that I met Shatra at the holiday weekend fair. (See?! It pays to recycle. If I hadn't been picking up and sorting colored glass from clear at the wine tent, we would have never met and she wouldn't have introduced me to Dallas and I wouldn't be teaching my first yoga class! Well, my first yoga class for pay. I did a kind of community service thing at the Leech Lake Indian Reservation four years ago but that's another story for another post!)
So calling all seniors! Register for my class or check out my free yoga demonstration before and after the grievance support meeting on October 4th!
Shanti,
Liz
Liz,
ReplyDeleteI can't wait to meet you! I'm not a senior, so I hope you don't hold that against me. I once dated a girl from Bemidji, so I feel like I already know you, especially if you have auburn hair and oxblood toenails. Please, please, please teach a non-senior class or two. If you need me to fix that with Dallas, I will. I'm one of his top students, you know. You did know that, right? He must have told you all about me by now.
Call me Pete
Hey Peter,
ReplyDeleteI look forward to developing our yogic chemistry and the broad range of its possibilities. So let's not think of yoga in physical terms but, rather, in brain states; A kind of mental yoga on which to build the core of our natural relationship.
At this time, Dallas has asked me to teach one senior class on Thursdays. And yes, he's told me about you. Shanti, Liz
Hi Liz,
ReplyDeleteThought you'd never respond. My refresh finger needs some major restorative mudras.
In one of those "small world" things, my uncle's in-laws twice removed had a vw wagon. And it too had exhaust problems, only it had a defective tailpipe that actually curved up into the rear scupper port of the cargo area. Apparently somebody mistook it for a drain pipe. If it weren't for the defective, leaky windows, everybody would have died on a trip across S. Dak just to visit Wall Drug.
The irony was that when they reached Wall Drug, they couldn't buy any aspirin to relieve all their migraines because Wall Drug isn't a drug store at all. That pretty much shot to hell their plan of getting cheap Canadian drugs that they'd heard were being shipped illegally down though the Bismarck-Pierre blackmarket pipeline.
But I digress. Since you weren't born and bred here, let me show you around town. I know all the best spots. Trust me.
Call me Peter