Teacher's Sixth Day: Halloween!

I'm supposed to go out tonight and enjoy a night of terror as a zombie. First things first, I teach today, more on the G.U. system.

Lazy Sunday: Part 14

The season has changed, and so has the weather. Welcome to the harvest season. Long coats. Thermal underware. Knit scarves. This is the northwest at its best.

Myself walking down Reed College Way.

Fed. Rate, Meet the Voter.

Many people are attempting to figure out the goings on with our nation's economy. Questions aboud for the economically-minded American such as, "Has the housing market bubble really popped?" "What about my retirement fund?" "How will I pay for my kids to attend college?" "Will a Big Mac really cost $10 USD in 2050?" Though I turned pseudo-vegetarian nearly a decade ago (I eat nothing that once had lungs, but gills are fine by this "Oregon coastie",)

Happening along the intraweb as I do, no differently than the billions of other globally-minded bloggers, an MSNBC article under the guise of Breaking News led me to click its link. Besides the article itself, this chart to the right popped up. I gave this some thought and realized that the years amde all the difference when looking at the tell-tale dip near the right side of the graph.

See, most economists make the assertion that any new government change will make a significant loss in the nation's economy. There's nothing new about that. It happens every time we get a new President in the U.S. With the uncertainty in who was to become President in 2000, the dip was a little stronger as first, and then 11 Septeber happened. However, the grapgh shows that the loss was constant in the first eight months of Bush's Presidency, and simply continued at the same pace (NOT as a sharp drop) from the WTC, Pentagon and United Flight 93 attacks. What stoped the drop? Well, again, economists can speculate that great things were at foot, but the best and layman response is simply: war.

The beginning of combat operations in Afghanistan, O.E.F., happened a month after the attacks and the grapgh shows that this slowed but didn't stop the economic drop off. It wasn't until mid 2004 when the growth began. Why?

What happened in May-June 2004 to boost the economy? The 2004 election? Google?

Teacher's Fifth Day.

I gave the Midterm today. Enough said. The average grade was 41. So with an 82% on the midterm and a 90% on the rest, the midpoint grade for my students is a solid B at 86%. Not too bad for a bunch of hard working students.

My department chair, Chris, interviewed me on how I'm doing with the course and gave me the conversational evaluation of my teaching abilities. She sits in for the first half of my class next Tuesday to see how the class is going and how the students think I am meeting their needs when it comes to teaching them matters of interest on the procedures regarding depth and breadth of knowledge and preparation. Their scores suggest knowledge enough.

We will see if I can maintain this for another seven weeks. I'm in less-than-familiar territory with genitourology, but I think they number of prostatectomies, TURPs & TUR-BTs I've done over the years will get me through to December.

Lazy Sunday: Part 13

No. THIS is what's at stake, G.O.P.

Photo by NASA

Look at the Logo.

Politics aside; the candidates; campaign slogans, negative advertisements and rhetoric; all combine to become an endless mish-mash of he-said, she-said muckraking and calculated promising. This country's two political parties are much like corporate rivals with the same product. Like most companies’ strategies, when the product seems old and standard to consumers, there's nothing like shaking up the look of the business to get people thinking about the products. After 2000 and 2004, the Democrats needed that and with former Vermont Governor Howard Dean, M.D. behind the desk of Dems. head office, C.E.O. Dean got the ball rolling a few years ago. He started with a look at the two parties’ logos.

You look at the elephant of the G.O.P. and one word comes to mind: solid. Look at it. No movement can be seen in it. It’s an orthodox, steady-as-a-rock, and unmoving symbol. It also shows the opulent, bloated form of that which it represents: grand, old, pride.

Knowing this (as we can only presume that the many, very intelligent men and women that go into political work can be presumed to be,) a comparison with the symbol of the Democratic Party is needed. It also conjures the thought of a featureless, boxy, conventional, and uninspired representation of a group full of the beaten and demoralized.

Then, something happened. Someone looked at the donkey and realized what a pack horse does when its legs are kicked out from under it. It shakes off the fall, gets up, takes on its burden and kicks.

It kicks hard. It kicks out with the force of all its weight, frustration, anger, pleasure and more. It kicks out at the air, the sky, the nearest sound, and the dust. It kicks out ignoring the pain, the pride and even the power that it creates. The donkey is a lean, smooth and powerful animal. The donkey works hard and is smarter than any horse could dream of being. The donkey is not interested in its look so much as its work; but when you look at it the right way, when someone points out it’s wonderful qualities and loyal work ethics, you see it’s a beautiful animal no matter what happens.

This symbol was chosen for these traits. Its loud, well-developed voice can be heard for over three kilometers. They have larger ears than horses or mules. Thank you Thomas Nast of Harper’s Weekly for both symbols. Kicking a lion in the past, we know now to kick a stagnant feeling in the present… so we can kick on in the future.

A Possible Direction.

This blog was originally created to keep me writing. Having been in school for so long, I found my desire to read books for pleasure, or solely for my own interest, had been scarce when compared to the multitude of required texts expected of me. This is neither a remarkable or unique experience since I imagine this is what happens to nearly all bibliophile college students.

Since graduating I've dropped some weight and gained some muscle. I'm learning to dance and be a loving husband. My employment is both plentiful and un encumbering. Most of all, I have read, and read, and some more. This summer I had the please of taking in over 20 books and three times that number in periodicals. My list was so long I needed four pieces of paper to write them all. Perhaps my enjoyment and isolation that came from being a college student, insulated me from the Weltschmerz of the world around me, but the reading I've done has more than caught me up with its activities and events. In so doing, this updating inspired me to return to writing without concern of subject or direction. Knowing from my education that the world is a vast and vibrant one, I'm slow to adapt to the idea that the world's gloom and doom propagated so vociferously by pundits is in fact the sole precursor to causality. In other words, I believe now, before I ever took a university course, that my father and kin were right: People are generally about as happy as they wish to be.

Bearing all of this in mind, I am coming to the realization that I'm not quite as happy as I'd like to be. This is true in my work (specifically my current job), my motivations for improving conditions around me, how I interact with others, my physical characteristics, and realizing a legacy in keeping with my moral and ethical standards. In short: I'm ready to do what my motivations are leading me to do.

This is not a country or world in the brink of disaster. It is one full of people with desire and prospect. I am fortunate enough to have a wonderful wife, family and all the other boons mentioned before; and now I'm ready to tackle the greater matters I've thought of in my youth as tremendous.

As I near my 100th post (due to come on the first of November) I will be writing more often about topics about which I feel particular pull. Such issues as the polarization of our country's two-party system, global climate change, space exploration and the privatization of commercial industries looking to capitalize on these matters of international and worldwide interest to name a few. I'm a small-town man from southwestern Oregon. I've lived here nearly my whole life. I don't claim to be someone with deep experience in matters concerning poverty, wealth, influence or social circles. Perhaps it is a lack of these traits that makes me one of the billions on this Earth that can claim expertise. We all share this land and sea and air together, and we will be our own gauge of success or failure in their preservation.

Convenient Truth.

I have decided to apply for a trainee position with The Climate Project, an extension of the Al Gore presentation/movie An Inconvenient Truth. The project is aimed at getting volunteers willing to come out and learn how to present the slideshow Mr. Gore does in the film and has for the past decade or so.

At the very least, it’s a great opportunity to see not just how global warming is effecting my generation, but how we are responding to the growing crisis. The application asks, “In approximately 100 words, please describe your background and why you wish to participate:” My response is as follows:

I am a native of the southwest coast of Oregon educated and living in my State’s largest metropolis: Portland. After traveling the country as a medical professional, I can say that Oregon is astounding in its rawness. My home State possesses this country's most vast, natural and beautiful coastline; and I admit my bias openly. With nature as rich and diverse as it is here, a home this lovely is best shared. I ask you to give me the chance to let me bring my open spaces, coastal stretches, small towns, large cities, and passion to your efforts in spreading this most imperative message. Thank you.

The application also asks applicants to list up to five venues where a potential presenter would anticipate giving the lecture, including approximated numbers of attendees. Oregon’s prevalent venues made this an easy answer. The final question was more thought provoking. My answer follows the question:

“What makes you a strong candidate to be chosen for this training program?”

My job affords me the unique opportunity to equitably balance the time I spend with my wonderful wife and family without having to struggle to make ends meet. Given this, I will be capable to put forth a full effort into regionally sharing the message that Mr. Gore, The Climate Project, and other national organizations are endorsing. I have contacts in Portland, Bend, Eugene and other parts of Oregon and Washington that are ready for local conversations about this simple truth: Global changes effect us all.

Dems the Breaks.

This evening, in northwest Portland's Montgomery Park building, the Chair of the DNC, Howard Dean, M.D., spoke in support (the general "rally the troops" gathering) of Governor Ted Kulongoski. He was joined by Democratic Congressmen David Wu, Earl Blumenauer, Darleen Hooley, and Senator Ron Wyden. Several of the Oregon State Congressional representatives and senators also stood on the podium including a sharp looking representative candidate for one of Oregon's central Districts who is a Major in the Oregon National Guard. He has been recalled to Afghanistan as it turns out and will be on duty when the elections are held. If THAT isn't a slam dunk for the job, what else would be? He's one to keep an eye on for the future of Oregon politics. After all, why else would Ted and Earl and the gang make certain he's present to meet Dean and the big-wigs?

It was a good night for preaching to the choir. Governor K. was his usual nonchalant self and Dean fired us up with his typical-yet-manic messages from the party, "We're winning in Wyoming, Texas, Utah, and Ohio" to excerpt. "Keep the pressure up for these next three weeks and we'll see a fully Democratic Congress and an agenda that's strong on homeland security, education financing, economic growth, creating jobs, taxation curtailment, and the improving of all American's lives." We'd heard it all before, and cheered wildly nevertheless.

What struck me was my proximity to the gathering, down front and slightly left. I was away from the press (always a preference) but near to the aides of those on stage. They were freverantly jotting down notes on what their own people were saying. Likely preparing for spin-control or improvements for the next gathering. They spoke on Blackberries and Palm-phones. They sent texts and emailed from these handhelds as well with dutiful ease. I thought of the stress they must be under at this time and wondered if they had family, friends or others they saw outside the political landscape. Looking over their hands it seemed clear that they were all in a relationship, with an ass. The DNC was their life. Not one of the groupings of aides had a wedding ring or other mark denoting a relationship. Perhaps it's overly judgmental or I'm wrong to think this as fact, but their looks with fine clothes, expensive gadgets and rapid-scanning style of the amassed crowds (mostly for a gauge on the political acceptance rather than for a tasting of the "who's hot or not" level) backs up my thought that the political world that I have often considered as a potential, future career is not one in which my marriage would survive.

I'd rather not become one of the many politicians that go through a difficult explanation of saving the marriage by saying, "It's only for four years, darling." If that makes me a bad choice, so be it; but my family is foremost important to me, while civic matters are ones I can resign myself to being merely a critic.

Teacher's Fourth Day: 3:00 a.m.

Despite a fine attempt, soothing warmth from my wife, in conjunction with a cool numbness from porter and good food, my sleep ended this morning at three o'clock. Thinking that there was little more sleep I could undertake, I started my daily routine. Push-ups, sit-ups and weights were followed with a warm shower and a bowl of oatmeal. As I ate, I thought of some further information I wanted to share with my students today in class and promptly wrote them down.

A bit odd, isn't it? To be so ready to go at 3:00 a.m. Having worked so many night shifts, I know that my afternoon will involve a crash of monumental proportions.

The Professor.

I received an email from one of my oldest friends just yesterday. It returned me to thinking of my hometown, back to when drinking Guinness and sharing hiking trail stories were the greatest of day to day burdens. Albert Goche has been a steadfast comrade throughout my youth and adulthood. His loves for brewing fine beers, reading, researching history, learning new skills and exploring the unexplored are second only to his deep-rooted understanding that everyone has the makings for peace within them. His schooling at Lane will certainly lead to a long career as a university history professor. He and Ken Aldrich are simply amazingly, brilliant men.

His 30th birthday was a few week ago and I will be making up for the missing of it with this, a letter, a new book, a beer and shot of Irish whiskey, a visit with my wife and this acknowledgement:

Al is the living embodiment of what Professor J.R.R. Tolkien wrote in The Fellowship of the Ring, "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." The end is folly if, when your travels are at an end, you find yourself alone, having met many but befriended few or none, or regretful of the journey you have undertaken for your whole life. Al has done much and will continue to do so for many years to come. I can only hope that I may do half as well as he.

Sláinte. Breithlá sona duit, Al. Síochán leat.

Lazy Sunday: Part 12

"I've come to believe that anyone can become anything at all.

Which puts nothing at the bottom of the list."

- Patch Perryman, letter to a friend 2005

Fold.

Poker, like politics, is a matter best suited to the individual who can act as both honest broker and liar.

Poker is similar to investing in the stock market. It takes planning, maintaining a strategy and execution.

Poker take practice, insight and luck.

Poker is almost illegal to play on the internet in the United States thanks to Congress.

Poker remains the gold-rush "sport" of the early 21st century.

Poker, poker, poker.

Cut & Course.

Our leaders, through the want or desire they hold within themselves, use only what power and capability they are given or have come to obtain through persuasion to fulfill their aspirations. President Bush's press conference two days ago was not an address from the Nation's leader. Nor was it an articulated assessment from the governmental bodies on current events. It was an opportunist’s summoning. Rather than tell the people, whom he has sworn to represent, of the best policy in foreign affairs, military action, debt reduction, economic growth or showing concern for those people he has never known, President Bush attacked the political party that opposes his own in a bid to place them in a shadowy image. For shame.

Edward R. Murrow's 1958 address says it all for me. The media is no longer reporting the news. It is a body meant for exploitation of our desires to further those of our leaders. Indeed, "The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars; but in ourselves." -J. C.

How Easily We Forget.

My mother's birthday will be Saturday. Her 65th. Though I have never forgotten it since I was young enough to remember the 14th of October, I find myself forgetting all the trouble we've gone through since Dad and G. Dode lived with us. Their progressive illnesses. The meals we prepared. Fighting the same old fights over and over and over again until we couldn't stand it any longer. All of it comes back around this time of the year. Autumn nears and the season's harvest means family, closeness and reaching out to those with whom you've lost touch. Perhaps it's time I forget some of the things that I've been holding as grudge. Perhaps it's time to unite family again. All the more important to do just such a thing before my mother's 70th. Her 75th. Her 80th. On and on.

I can forgive some of the others in the family for their transgressions. It remains to be seen if I can forget them on behalf of fullfilling my family's needs for closure. This will only come from finally having me say to my estranged cousins and uncle, "Explain what happened at my wedding," before I tell them, "Welcome back."

We Do As We Can.

So much to write about. After a full day of teaching I think I'll stay simple and plain.

Taking the bus, I've remarked in the past, is a wonderful event in character creation for any would-be writer. The young girl, engrossed with a novel, sits alone to my left. A tattoo of the letters "JSR" in black London font are displayed on her upper arm. An elder woman sits in the aisle-facing seat before me, kitting needles feverishly working yarn into a cable knit. I could sit for hours here and never stop describing what was around me. But this ride is not immortal, and neither are these characters.

After a while, I enter Powell’s on Burnside for a sit, coffee and new environment to write what I see. I strike up conversation with a 20-something girl who tells me she's moved to Portland only two weeks earlier. She transferred here from San Diego to attend the Art Institute in the Pearl District and lives out in Beaverton with friends. "I really like this town," she tells me, "but I haven't been here long enough to see a lot of it yet." I play ambassador for a moment and explain a bit about how the city is four quadrants split by Burnside Avenue and the Willamette River. I tell her some of the proper pronunciations of street names and locations in the city, nicknames, and giver her a few titles to read that may help her enjoy Stumptown a little further. She seems genuinely grateful, if not perplexed that a stranger would be so forthcoming without looking for reciprocity. "I love my home State, is all. I'd rather be diplomatic than isolationist."

We do as we can, after all. I expect that most everyone, everywhere would agree when it came down to thinking about it. The bus, the bookstore, the bizarre.

Teacher's Third Day.

This is sight, my third lecture and now I am down from 16 to 13 students. I believe this will not end here as a few others show signs of uncertainty in the career choice surgical technology constitutes.

It is my duty to show them the matters they will need to know in order to work in this role and share my experiences wholy so they have no false impressions of the job. Their responce, wavering or not, is one of wide-eyed interest. I made connections with them all today, just by being myself. That's something for which I will have to receive credit from the directors of this program. What I have no idea about, is from where this insight came. It is more than just wanting to be treated the same way. This is some ideal that is deeper rooted in me than a 100 year old oak might enjoy in the earth. Perhaps I am a teacher after all.

Happenstance.

A weekend of complete madness was my reward for the three shifts I do every Friday night to Monday morning. Perhaps its the lack of variety in what I do. Maybe it’s the baffling actions that a few, select coworkers routinely display. Whatever it is that makes me see my employment choice as merely a tool for paying bills, I’d rather think better of it. Such as being the big step forward I'd taken to advance from where I was before moving North. Hard to think that a job at a teaching hospital is getting old, but I’m taking it for granted and it’s pathetic to admit such a truism. There’s better and worse than this, dear Sir. Suck it up or pass it off. There are others more interested in what I do than I am. This was no coincidence.

Lazy Sunday: Part 11

I know I've used a lot of space photos lately, but that's perhaps due to the marvelous discoveries and opportunities the world's space administrations have recently made? Here's one more Opportunity that's been cashed in on, a photo of the rover by the Mars Global Orbiter as it rounds the 1/2 mile diameter Victoria Crater.

Photo by NASA

Copperfield's Shadow.

Today I've procrastinated a bit too much. My list of duties to complete has already doubled since yesterday and I'm finding it hard to get motivated to complete them all.

Aside from shoring up the lengthy new lecture for Tuesday covering open and laparoscopic GYN procedures, I have a letter to write to Todd and Sara asking them about Thanksgiving in Stumptown, a physician assistant application statement or two to write, two nights more of work at OHSU, and more to read in the newspaper and novel areas of my life. Add to this time that I enjoy spending with my wife and dog and it's a wonder I can still write my blog. Which is another matter I am amazed by.

With this entry I have written every single day for the past 75 days. Tomorrow is my eleventh Lazy Sunday photo op and I'm still finding things that are interesting and fresh to write about. Despite all that I may complain about, politics, job, writing, I know there is far worse that I could be doing, having or being. There is little room for complaints when so many more have things so much worse than I ever could imagine, I feel lucky to know that this has been a great venture into returning to the art I've enjoyed as a youth. The novel gets better, the letters get longer, the entries are stronger, my heart gets lighter, my hope gets greater. And just like that, procrastination is a thing of the past.

Time to get to the list and be done with it.

Where America Meets the World.

Smartest show on television currently is Foreign Exchange with Fareed Zakaria.

He's a smart, savvy journalist who interviews prominent, intelligent men and women from around the world, whose expertise or experiences are unique to the topic at hand. Whether that topic is globalization, poverty, economics, foreign & domestic policies, or human interest, questions are neither shallow nor egotistical. Guests and Mr. Zakaria speak eloquently with real interest in holding an open discussion as well as finding answers to the questions that matter most to both layman and policymaker.

My advice to you: Watch this show, and grow. It's on public television, Friday evenings.

Coffee Talk.

Beat generation enthusiasts would be rolling in the deep graves they never would have expected to become shrines were they to see what the "tea-rooms" and their countless denizens have become in the early 21st century. The once hipster den of antimaterialism, now reduced to the market of capitalist opportunity, have continued their decline into transforming the level of dependency on a substance as grounding as coffee by universalizing the services around it. In other words, coffee shops are soon to be all Starbucks.

Coffee People joined the list of fallen java soldiers like Torrefazone, Seattle's Best and Peets when it was announced a few weeks back that over 30 stores in the PNW would be sold to the Seattle megacorp. Indy shops are few and far between, and while the quality of these stores remains high, their consumer bases remain low and lower daily due to the proximity of quickie-shops to their businesses. I find solace in one staple of the power of small business, that the people who really care about it will continue to care no matter the opposition. Today, my wife and I continued to prove that with our activities.

Lisa was invited to a little shop on Hawthorne and 42nd called The Daily Grind by a couple of her coworkers. She doesn't drink coffee, but with her shyness in making friends this was a complete win for her (coffee drinker or not).

I had the chance to head to my little shop in Sellwood, the Ugly Mug. Prepared to write and expand my novel idea, as well as complete the touches on my student's Midterm exam and third quiz, I sat to start writing with a fresh, double mocha in reach. After a while I noticed the other computer users in the cafe speaking in turn to the barista. Seems the Wi-Fi was out, but I'd been too busy writing to notice. Then, the most amazing thing happened. Because there was no connection to the interweb, one-by-one people packed up their computers, schloshed down their java and hit the road. As new customers entered, ordered and sat, they too, upon being informed of the lack of Wi-Fi, followed suit to drink up and leave.

People spend a lot of cash (thousands) on their computers for more than just the connection to the internet. Now, when the cafes are one service less than desired, people leave. I could not believe that everyone was so incapable of enjoying themselves, so I stopped to talk to an older gentleman sitting near me with a newer MacBook. He was a retired respiratory tech, caring for his ailing mother and returning to school for his degree (intending to go to PSU he says!) What a wonderful forty-five minute conversation we had.

No internet, no worries, no need for computers, but we shared ideas, opinions, pictures of family and art. Beat never had it so good.

Op-Ed.: Midterms.

Constant listening to the evening news, reading of the journals, newspaper and internet, all of this can wear down even the greatest of optimists. In so doing, I write this week's opinion-editorial on the midterm election's greatest topic of all: the Iraq War. Sound off:

It is a majority of my generation’s age group that fights in the military today. They take their orders from those born of the generation that composed the majority of soldiers sent to Vietnam. They were, of course, sent there by politicians aged within the Greatest Generation, who were themselves children of The Great War. From this lineage, a pattern is difficult to overlook; but that does not stop people from trying. Especially those whom are looking more toward their personal future than to one that encompasses soldier, citizen and servant alike.

No matter how contiguous this looks, I cannot overlook the time-proven fact that violence brings further violence. Instead of listening to our past our nation’s leaders prove, time and again, that they would rather spend their time employed rationalizing their mediocre positions. Standpoints such as to how best to commemorate the fallen soldiers abroad. By defining the importance as to why they are sent to fight? With tragic reports of ambushes diminished to anecdotal tales to draw attention to the gravity of a quaint legislative action? Instead of fully appreciating the brazen choice made by a multitude of U.S. citizens to wear the uniform and to serve their country with integrity and honor, politicians today (old enough to have served in Vietnam) sling muck with odious mottos like “adapt-to-win” and “cut-and-run”. It sickens me in a manner that no therapy can fully cure.

It seems to me that this generation, gentlemen and ladies of public service, understand their duties clearly and fully. If you comprehend yours’ as wholly, you will take the blunt words of this generally humble man and form a strong opinion that the truest, and most adequate tribute to those that have fallen now and past, is the same as what you had asked for in your time. It is the same tribute as your parents had hoped for you a generation before: equip them with the finest of things, bring them home soon and safely, and honor their service with opportunities aplenty. This is the strategy, against which terror can never prevail; and that no politician can refute as partisan. Ignore it, and we shall surely repeat the process in generations to come.

Teacher's Second Day.

This day was not so bad, but I had my first student-teacher confrontation. Best to get these things out of the way early to know who's looking to make waves versus learn; but this was not the case at all. What I learned today is this:

1. Not all students want help. By making all the journal entries for the students the assigning them randomly with the option to switch before the end of class, I thought I was doing them a favor. They have so much homework to do, and with clinicals, write-ups and such, adding a written report over a journal article is another hassle an already organizational anarchy. However, some rebelled at the idea that this was assigned to them versus something they could look up on their own. I could understand that logic. Best to just let the student do their own thing then, I suppose. However, my instinct is to make this nothing they could avoid. Procrastination is so easily involved in programs such as these because there's so much to learn. I told the one or two that had issues that if they don't like their articles, they could bring one to me for approval. Otherwise, write and be done with it.

2. Make the slides simpler, but with more test material on them. They look at these the most, use that to your advantage... and theirs.

There's a lot to the job of teaching. I have already discovered a great deal that letting the students come to me as equally as I come to them is the best way to look at the process of teaching. One of the other instructors insists that teachers are not meant to be the friends of their students. In some sense I understand that stance. It removes the biases that can be created when friendship and mentorship differ. However, these are not just students taking a course to complete requirements for e greater purpose. The course I teach is the core area of information and practical knowledge needed to perform well in their future careers. More importantly, these students are my future colleagues. How I treat them now, will reflect on what they think of the profession we will all do later in life.

Respect shown now will last in them so long as they work as surgical technologists. Perhaps my co-instructors know this at heart, but I doubt they reflect this truth based on their open considerations toward the students.

Another learning point for the new teacher.

Fred & Ginger.

My wife and I are taking dancing lessons for the next several weeks on Monday nights. This is one of those things that I would have expected we'd do when we hit 40 or 50-something. However, since I'm no longer as into Monday Night Football since Todd left for Vegas, and I love my wife as much as I do, I'm down with the idea of a dance class like this. Learning the Fox Trot, Lindy, Waltz, Rhumba, Samba and others now, while we're young, can become something we'll do together for years to come. There will be time for football, as the years progress. For now, the time I spend with my wife matters more than down by five, 4th and goal with seven seconds remaining in regulation. A good dance with my wife in a rec. center is my touchdown celebration.

Lazy Sunday: Part 10

Photo by NASA

"My trip is coming to an end but my dreams have just started."

-Anousheh Ansari aboard the I.S.S. on 28 September 2006