I believe it was Marcus Aurelius who gave us that little gem, and for once I'm sure it wasn't Shakespeare, who by the way gets far too much credit for quotable lines.
At any rate, I grabbed my hat and tilted it just a shade over the left eye, which makes all the difference. Upholstered and sunglassed, I set out for a meditative walk.
The first order of business was to find a spot that offered some seclusion, which is necessary when you practice qigong or any other form of ancient Chinese slow movement exercise. Practicing in the open usually results in the local constabulary dropping by to ask "What's all this?" I've even known young children to cry and run to their mothers when they see me practicing Brush the Wild Mare's Mane.
The live oak grove behind the community pool looked ideal for qigong and so I took up my position and began my exercise with Wuji Swimming Dragon. As I swept my arm back, I observed a gulf coast mosquito squatting on my hand and pulling the beak back into attack position. I didn't hesitate. It was with me, the work of an instant to squash the insect. Not soon enough, however. She got me on the thumb. And it didn't end there, by the time I realized I'd been bitten, her unseen accomplice, got me on the back of the neck.
Before I continue, it might be enlightening to provide you with some background information that I did not have available to me when I planned this morning's outing. In recent weeks, the Houston news media have been full of headlines such as the following sample:
Mosquitoes Attack Houston
Mosquito Invasion Continues
Houston Plagued with Mosquitos
From the official mosquito-tracking website I learned that "Houston mosquitoes are considered to be some of the worst in the world."
You think you have mosquitos? What you have are some of those inferior knock-off brands of insects.
The style of qigong that I teach is called "Fierce Qigong and the tag-line is "Life comes fast and hard. Be ready for anything." But I was not ready for Houston mosquitos. Before I could muster a defense, my hat had been lifted from my head, sunglasses pulled from my face, and a swarm was trying to remove my Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt.
I'm not sure that I cried out in alarm as I ran down the path and back into the house but if I did, what of it? You too would C O in A if you were plagued with these mosquitos; a plague not unlike those that were visited upon Pharaoh Ramses. Trust me.
When I was safely inside the house, my son-in-law asked where I had been. I breathlessly gave him the gist and went on to say, "Let me warn you…" when he interrupted to ask:
"Didn't you get eaten by mosquitoes?"
Now that the danger is past and happy endings have been distributed all around, I realize that I learned a couple things from the ordeal. First and foremost, Houston should have signs similar to those ancient maps where they have pictures of sea monsters at the edge of the world. The signs should say, "Here Be Mosquitoes."
The second thing I learned is that there seems to be a lack of consensus about the spelling of the plural of mosquito. But hey, when you're being attacked by a swarm of blood-sucking fiends, correct grammar is the least of your worries.