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Yesterday we took a breathtaking hike to a couple Buddhist temples and an ancient fortress on the mountain of Beomonson. Breathtaking is certainly the appropriate word for it because for some odd reason, the planets were in line for me to have the hiccups during most of our assent up the mountain. I can't even remember the last time that I have had the hiccups--it must have been years. It would be more correct to say that I didn't have the hiccups but the hiccups had me--by the throat. It was almost lethal. Imagine: It is a crisp autumn morning, the sun rays shooting through the mystic mountains, lighting our path as we ascend to the sacred and historic sites. Then suddenly to break up the perfect moment is my uncontrollable and deafening hiccup, reverberating through the woods. Of course the hiccups are not something that you can control. Try as I might, I could not release their fingers from my throat for the better part of an hour. I knew it was bad as I passed a fellow hiker on the trail and hiccupped, loud and violent, only for her to return me with a greeting. She must have thought that I was Japanese saluting her with an abrupt "HOUYT!". Eventually, Celeste threatened that if I didn't stop hiccupping to the natives, that she'd wrap her icy fingers around my throat and ensure that they stopped. With this motivation, I tried all types of folk remedies to control my hiccups and eventually, after much deliberation, managed to stop them. But they found me two more times yesterday just because I was thinking about them. Cruel. Very cruel. Violent Salutations--Scottro [2002-10-23]
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