Sparky - Parkour Competitor

“How do you come up with your ideas every day? Aren’t you worried you’re going to run out of them and you’ll have nothing to write about?”

Why, yes, anonymous email writer, I worry almost every single time I sit down in front of my Mac that the cursor will sit in the same place on the page, blinking at me, mocking me, telling me without words that I have no words to share with you.

But then my mind snaps back to the present and I am reminded of the thoughts that have been tumbling around my head all day, forming sentences and paragraphs that thankfully flow onto the page when I ask them to.

And where do my ideas come from? Everyday life. Whether from time spent with my family and friends or eavesdropping on total strangers’ conversations and people watching, I am always amazed at how funny and fascinating the world around us is if we simply choose to tune in.

For example, today my son and I determined our kitten Sparky’s spontaneously insane acrobatic movements throughout our home at all given hours of the day and night is not just silly cat play, but his attempts at becoming a professional parkour competitor.

For those of you without hip, athletic kittens or insane youthful friends or relatives, parkour is defined as “the intentional discipline, sport and hobby that is best described as the art of forward motion in spite of obstacles.”

Also referred to as “free-running” in the United States, parkour broke onto the mainstream scene via a short promotional film for BBC ONE entitled “Rush Hour.” In this amazing short, parkour founder David Belle is shot running across the rooftops of London, leaping from building to building to avoid gridlocked traffic below. The organic, athletic, free-form sport was an immediate hit with teenage boys, especially the skateboard crowd which already used the urban terrain at hand to perform gravity-defying tricks.

Sparky the Traceur

Sparky is not yet old enough to watch YouTube unsupervised nor allowed to skateboard (as we cannot find a helmet in his size), so needless to say I was truly perplexed by Sparky’s discovery of this sport.

But Jamie reluctantly came clean: He and his friends had been experimenting with parkour tricks for more than a year after watching hundreds of videos on YouTube (including “Rush Hour”) and sharing ideas with other skaters at the neighborhood parks.

Just as Jamie finished his confession, Sparky came hauling down the dining room hallway and skidding into the kitchen, jumping at least six feet straight into the air, front paws slicing the air in front of him. He landed hard on all four haunches, his two front paws pushed close together with a low rumble rising from his chest to his throat.

Jamie and I approached quietly and watched as Sparky carefully raised his right paw in victory: On its back and slightly buzzing, a large horse fly lay trapped by our victorious, furry black traceur (amateur parkour in training).

We each gave Sparky a congratulatory pat on the head, and went about our day, deciding his new nickname would be Traceur (so much more regal and dignified than Fly Squisher, and so much more compatible with Dandelion Slayer).