The temperatures were as cold as Vladimir Putin’s heart. Rather than ski and shiver, I decided to head to a place that would be warm and full of folks wearing tight clothing: our local Recreation Center. 

Since a parking spot would be as rare as tofu at a Trump rally, I decided to avail myself to our town’s awesome free bus service.

We have a wonderful transportation phone app that knows where you live and your most visited destinations and can actually tell you when to leave your house to walk to the nearest bus stop.

When I clicked on the app, I received an alert telling me that, “Attention, due to unforeseen circumstances, the bus you require will not be running today. And you forgot to turn off the space heater in your bathroom.”

It was too cold to bicycle, so I fired up the “Biff-Mobile” and headed out. En route, I passed many bus stops. At one stop I saw a young couple waiting for transportation that I knew would not arrive. Both looked cold and wore inadequate clothing. 

Hoping to repay a pittance of a karma deficit I’ve acquired from years of being a jerk, I decided to come to the young couple’s rescue. I pulled over, rolled down the passenger window and yelled that their bus would not be coming. I then added that I would take them to wherever they needed to go. 

The young man smiled and said, “No English.”

That’s when I jumped out of the car, tried to tell them loudly (as if that would bridge the language barrier) there would be no bus, but I would drive them. To illustrate that, I opened the door to the back seat and gestured wildly for them to get in. I did this by nudging the dude towards the vehicle while making a steering wheel gesture with my hands. 

I cannot say he was enthusiastic at first — perhaps reluctant would be a better word. It was then that the gal seemed to understand and jumped in. I opened the front door and invited the guy to sit beside me, but he crowded in next to his date. I think he wanted to keep an eye on me.

I’ve always wanted to be bilingual. In high school I took first-year Spanish three times, only passing the third try when I had a football coach as my teacher.   

I have forgotten most of my public school education, Spanish included. Once I had them safely in my car one phrase returned.  I said, “mi llamo Jeffrey.” 

Unfortunately, I pronounced “llamo” as “llama,” like the animal. But they seemed to understand and they told me their names.

I also recalled “trabajo” means “job” and “donde” means “where.” When I said “trabajo?” they nodded, but I had less luck with “donde.” I think I might have mispronounced as “donkey.”  

At every intersection I would stop, blocking traffic, point in either direction and yell donkey. 

It then dawned on me that they probably were not used to driving or walking, but rather would get on a bus with bilingual signage and arrive at their destination. 

Luckily, I got a phone call from my buddy Steve. He called to ask if I wanted to go skiing, but I interrupted him with, “Do you speak Spanish?” He said he did not, but his wife Laura was there and she did. I told Steve that I had two local workers in my car and I wanted to know where they needed to go. Steve handed the phone to Laura and I put my phone on speaker. Laura asked their desired destination, they answered, she told me, and I dropped them off at their place of employment.

They exited my car and said, “gracias” and out of nowhere, “arrivederci” came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I think it is Italian. 

After dropping off my new friends I finally made it to the gym. 

The place was packed with families enjoying the pools and tubs, folks lifting weights and using the machines. There also were full classes of yoga and some other stuff that makes my hamstrings seize up just by watching. There were young, old, fit and pudgy. 

But one thing everyone there had in common that day was the luxury of free time. Now granted, there were many there who enjoyed more free time than others. But all were able to take at least a few hours on that cold morning to work out.

It was a good reminder that there are many in our community for who even getting to work can be a workout.

Jeffrey Bergeron’s column “Biff America” publishes Mondays in the Summit Daily News. Bergeron has worked in TV and radio for more than 30 years, and his column can be read in several newspapers and magazines. He is the author of “Mind, Body, Soul.” Bergeron arrived in Breckenridge when there was plenty of parking and no stoplights. Contact him at biffbreck@yahoo.com.