I have written previously about my struggles with obesity. I have also written the numerous times I have fallen off the proverbial horse, re-mounted the proverbial horse, and wanted desperately to sell the proverbial horse to the nearest proverbial taxidermist. For this writing, as I promised, I would like to share an investment that I made in my weight loss.
I should start with a brief back-story. Some years back, I had made an online friend named John. John lived in Illinois. John and I corresponded very closely for several years via phone and Internet. John and I never met face to face. In spite of this, we shared many laughs together. We also endured many trials together. John comforted me when my parents were involved in a severe automobile accident. I did my best to help John face his impending divorce. John was also a man who had issues with his weight. John’s weight struggles took their toll on his health. The toll ultimately became too great. On April 1, 2000; John collapsed and died in his living room in the presence of one of his teenage daughters. It has been 12 years since John died. I will never forget the laughs we had. I will also never forget the stories he shared regarding the physical and emotional consequences of his obesity. They have especially struck a chord with me as my weight climbed over the past year to the 300 lb. mark.
About 7 years ago, I acquired another friend named John. There were some differences from my deceased friend of the same name. This friend named John lives locally, within walking distance. John is a few years younger and in better health. We have somewhat different personalities. Those differences allow us to complement one another very well. John has expressed tremendous concerns about my weight and overall health in the past year. Actually, at times he has railed me rather harshly. John has, at times, talked to me in the same way Mickey Goldmill lashed out at Rocky Balboa. Still, I know that John, like Mickey, is always in my corner.
In the past couple of months, I had spoken to my wife about making a significant financial investment in my fitness goals. I wanted to buy a bicycle. I didn’t just want some off-the-rack department store bicycle. I wanted a bicycle that could endure my extra weight, provide a comfortable ride, and be easily modified (when needed) as my fitness progressed. My lovely queen agreed that this was a sound idea and was very encouraging. I, once again, reached out to my friend John. This was a no-brainer to me. John not only has a very nice bike of his own. He also teaches a spin class. Divine providence is really a wonderful thing when you realize it for what it is.
John took me to a local bike shop where he got his own set of wheels. They sized me up on a bike. I fell in love with that thing the minute I got on it. I felt like I was a kid again that could ride his bike everywhere. I looked like a hippo who probably needed training wheels. Still, nothing was going to steal my bliss in that moment. I got a quote on the bike. John also guided me on some accessories I would need such as lights, a lock, a helmet and appropriate riding apparel. I spent the next few weeks obsessing about getting this bike. My older son asked if I was getting a bike so I could ride to the mailbox and back. To the untrained ear, that would sound like an insulting crack. I took it as a phrase of encouragement from someone who is definitely his father’s son.
The day finally came and I went in and got my new bike. Allow me this one unsolicited testimonial. The Bike Zone (http://bikezonebikes.com/) did GREAT by me. They gave me 25% off on the bike and 15% off on the accessories. They even mounted the accessories as they were setting up my bike. They had me out the door with my bike in less than 15 minutes. If you are in the Rochester, NY area and want a good solid deal on a bike, head out to The Bike Zone on Route 104 near Greece Ridge Center.
John and I woke up early the next morning and went riding together. I was decked out in my riding gear which included a strong helmet, a bright t-shirt, and a bright fluorescent vest (think DOT orange). The last thing John or I want any other person on the road to say with a straight face is “I never saw him coming.” By the way, I named my bike the X-1 in deference to one P. W. Herman. My buddy John took me on a conservative ride. He guided me about shifting gears and hand signals. John was doing this because he knew I had not ridden a bicycle in this manner in roughly 30 years. It should be noted that one item missing from my new bike was a rack for a water bottle. Fortunately, John has a rather nice pannier on the back of his bike he he stored my water bottle so we could hydrate at brief points during the ride. We rode 6.8 miles that day. A few days later we rode again. My only goal was to go farther than the previous ride. We rode 8.8 miles that day. Just yesterday, I acquired my own water bottle rack and installed it on my bike. John and I were having troubles the entire week connecting for a ride together. I decided that since I had a way to store my water, I would ride solo. I promised John I would wear the proper gear and stick to our route. Once again, I rode just a bit farther than I had previously. I rode 10.4 miles in exactly 90 minutes.
In closing, I don’t think it is any big secret at this point that I am very grateful for John’s mentorship. I am looking forward to many more rides (both solo and with John). Lastly, if you are curious if the investment had made a difference in my fitness goals, I have lost 7 lbs. in less than one month.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Sunday, July 15, 2012
I’m On My Weigh Vol II: The Journey Continues
For a large portion of my adult life (no pun intended), I have struggled with obesity. Actually, let me be honest. It really involved little struggle on my part arriving to such a morbidly obese state. The struggle has been in maintaining the discipline to get the weight off. I had wondered for years WHY this was such a great struggle. I had overcome other obstacles in my life that required a tremendous amount of tenacity and a daunting level of discipline. (Note: While I am ashamed that I have not previously proclaimed. Consider this an announcement of the arrival of ongoing alliterations. we shall now continue with the essay already in progress.) I began pursuing my first college degree in 1998 at the age of 32 with 4 mouths to feed. That was quite a challenge for someone who was a lazy student and had been out of high school for 14 years at that point. As another example, I have been smoke free for 5 years. I go most days now and never miss having a cigarette. Having said that, those first 60 days were HARD! To be honest, I remain smoke free because I know I will be back at day one again if I slip.
So the question remains, having overcome the aforementioned obstacles, why is it such a struggle to get my weight down to a heavy level and keep it off? To best answer that question. Smoking was something I was did well. I had gotten especially good at smoking during that last year before quitting as it was also the same year my mother passed away. I would even go outside in sub-zero New York temperature because I refused to allow anyone to smoke inside my house. It was sometimes merely a dramatic prop and at other times a tool (pronounced \ˈkrəch\) for stress relief.
As it turns out, eating is also something I do well. American men have even been known to engage in eating competitions. I have never done sure but I am sure I’d have some post Olympic endorsement deals if I ever ventured into such “sport”. The point is, while I AM a fussy eater to some point, what I do eat I tend to do in unhealthy amounts. This is where part of the problem lies. As much as I enjoyed smoking and found great solace in the habit, I knew I was never at risk for dying prematurely if I quit (it’s NOT quitting that tends to have that terminal side effect). Food is a different story. I enjoy eating and find solace in it as well. However, while overeating can lead to a premature passing, NOT eating can also leading to inopportune exit. So the trick is finding a healthy level eating. I believe it was Kesuke Miyagi that balance makes one’s whole life better. I am paraphrasing a bit but I haven’t seen the movie in a while.
Part of achieving this balance is in making different food choices. Now, I should be clear on this issue. This doesn’t mean that I will join the society of herbivores. I have quite a few friends and loved ones that are either vegetarians or vegans. I love them dearly and respect their choices. I have even been known to occasionally borrow a recipe. Still, a full time membership is just not in the cards for Shane. It’s just a stone cold fact that if my doctor tells me that I must abstain from fried chicken and cheesecake forever or die, I will immediately update my will. I can go for long stretches without having certain foods. I don’t need fried chicken and cheesecake daily. Other food choices HAVE been eliminated.This is because they have shown themselves to be trigger foods. If I have one, I must consume them until they are all gone. Back last November, I announced my divorce from chocolate malted milk balls. I am sure the Whoppers company was shocked by the sudden and devastating news. I just felt that I could no longer go on with such a presence in my life. It was a tearful departure. My torrid relationship with Pringles potato chips has been on hiatus for some time now. We have not been together in some time. I hear that Pringles is doing okay since our time apart. I still get the occasional anonymous note and hang-up phone call saying “Take Me Back!” I am not certain who is responsible for such anonymous communications. I suspect it may be a Wendy’s triple cheeseburger. We have also not spent time together in months now. Yes, I admit it. I am a food polygamist.
Please understand that I am writing this not only as a means of sharing my catharsis with you all. I also do it for some accountability with my weight control. In a future essay, I will share how I have made some recent investments and set up a chain of accountability.
So the question remains, having overcome the aforementioned obstacles, why is it such a struggle to get my weight down to a heavy level and keep it off? To best answer that question. Smoking was something I was did well. I had gotten especially good at smoking during that last year before quitting as it was also the same year my mother passed away. I would even go outside in sub-zero New York temperature because I refused to allow anyone to smoke inside my house. It was sometimes merely a dramatic prop and at other times a tool (pronounced \ˈkrəch\) for stress relief.
As it turns out, eating is also something I do well. American men have even been known to engage in eating competitions. I have never done sure but I am sure I’d have some post Olympic endorsement deals if I ever ventured into such “sport”. The point is, while I AM a fussy eater to some point, what I do eat I tend to do in unhealthy amounts. This is where part of the problem lies. As much as I enjoyed smoking and found great solace in the habit, I knew I was never at risk for dying prematurely if I quit (it’s NOT quitting that tends to have that terminal side effect). Food is a different story. I enjoy eating and find solace in it as well. However, while overeating can lead to a premature passing, NOT eating can also leading to inopportune exit. So the trick is finding a healthy level eating. I believe it was Kesuke Miyagi that balance makes one’s whole life better. I am paraphrasing a bit but I haven’t seen the movie in a while.
Part of achieving this balance is in making different food choices. Now, I should be clear on this issue. This doesn’t mean that I will join the society of herbivores. I have quite a few friends and loved ones that are either vegetarians or vegans. I love them dearly and respect their choices. I have even been known to occasionally borrow a recipe. Still, a full time membership is just not in the cards for Shane. It’s just a stone cold fact that if my doctor tells me that I must abstain from fried chicken and cheesecake forever or die, I will immediately update my will. I can go for long stretches without having certain foods. I don’t need fried chicken and cheesecake daily. Other food choices HAVE been eliminated.This is because they have shown themselves to be trigger foods. If I have one, I must consume them until they are all gone. Back last November, I announced my divorce from chocolate malted milk balls. I am sure the Whoppers company was shocked by the sudden and devastating news. I just felt that I could no longer go on with such a presence in my life. It was a tearful departure. My torrid relationship with Pringles potato chips has been on hiatus for some time now. We have not been together in some time. I hear that Pringles is doing okay since our time apart. I still get the occasional anonymous note and hang-up phone call saying “Take Me Back!” I am not certain who is responsible for such anonymous communications. I suspect it may be a Wendy’s triple cheeseburger. We have also not spent time together in months now. Yes, I admit it. I am a food polygamist.
Please understand that I am writing this not only as a means of sharing my catharsis with you all. I also do it for some accountability with my weight control. In a future essay, I will share how I have made some recent investments and set up a chain of accountability.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
A Tribute to Karen
As a 46 year old man, I realize that I can fall victim to a generation gap. I often get told things like: “That was then, this is now”, “Things are different now”, and other such comments. It’s difficult for me sometimes. I never thought I would be one of those people who mused about how music, movies, art, and society in general is circling the proverbial drain. I have since learned to embrace that role. I have come to discover today that there IS apparently something going out of style: chivalry, etiquette, and pure and simple respect. Such traits are apparently not only circling the drain, they are down the tubes and causing an intolerable, pungent clog. The most recent evidence of this comes in the story of a local area bus monitor named Karen Klein.
Karen Klein is a 68 year-old bus monitor working in the school district of Greece, NY (my neighborhood). Karen was doing her job as she has dutifully done for years on a somewhat meager salary. Sadly, during the course of a routine bus ride, several students from Greece Athena Middle School became criminally unruly. That’s right, folks. I said MIDDLE school. I am talking about students ranging in age from 12 – 15 years old. I know we all wish to think that kids go to school and behave like angels. Let me remind you of one Biblical fact – Lucifer was an angel too.
Karen sat in her seat amongst these students with incredible decorum. When it came to etiquette and respect, Karen lead by example. The incorrigible students thought it was better to show another example of behavior. These students hurled one profane remark after another at Karen. They insulted her about her weight, made jokes about committing sexual acts with her, and threatened her with violence. More than once, one of the students literally poked at her. One student even implied that her kids should commit suicide. By sad coincidence, Karen had already lost a son to suicide. As if this was not all enough, the students were apparently so proud of their behavior, they shot video footage that went on for 10 minutes and uploaded it to YouTube.
This is where things began to unravel somewhat for these mutinous miscreants. Once the video footage hit the Internet, it went VIRAL. The video got more than 100,000 hits from as far away as Australia. People from all over the world have reached out to the school district regarding the video. What’s more, the local police have promised to assist in the investigation. I truly hope that every student involved in this reprehensible behavior receives swift and severe disciplinary action. Perhaps, they can do community service cleaning stalls at the Seneca Park Zoo. After all, why not let animals take care of their own. Furthermore, I would like to see every student involved present Karen Klein with a rose and an apology. This ceremonial policy should take place on camera with their mothers present. Make these students face their actions, face their mothers, face Karen Klein, and ultimately face the world. It seems only fitting since they apparently enjoy a worldwide audience.
I should point out that there is SOME good outcome from all this. Someone started a fundraiser on the Internet to fund a vacation for Karen Klein. The fundraising goal was $5,000. As of this writing, more than $43,000 has been raised on behalf of Karen Klein. The link for the fundraiser is at http://igg.me/p/124322.
To the reprehensible students: May you face a severe penalty for your behavior. I also hope that your mother, grandmother, sister, and future spouse is NEVER subjected to such behavior. May your future children never commit such acts.
To the school district and local authorities: I am sure you all continue to work very hard daily to keep our kids out of the gutter. Clearly, the gutter must also be cleaned out.
To Karen Klein: Thank you for your years of service. I hope you enjoy your well-deserved vacation. I hope that you encounter a random young teenager who will kiss your cheek and hug your neck. Chivalry is not dead. It’s just the reinforcement of chivalry that is lacking.
Karen Klein is a 68 year-old bus monitor working in the school district of Greece, NY (my neighborhood). Karen was doing her job as she has dutifully done for years on a somewhat meager salary. Sadly, during the course of a routine bus ride, several students from Greece Athena Middle School became criminally unruly. That’s right, folks. I said MIDDLE school. I am talking about students ranging in age from 12 – 15 years old. I know we all wish to think that kids go to school and behave like angels. Let me remind you of one Biblical fact – Lucifer was an angel too.
Karen sat in her seat amongst these students with incredible decorum. When it came to etiquette and respect, Karen lead by example. The incorrigible students thought it was better to show another example of behavior. These students hurled one profane remark after another at Karen. They insulted her about her weight, made jokes about committing sexual acts with her, and threatened her with violence. More than once, one of the students literally poked at her. One student even implied that her kids should commit suicide. By sad coincidence, Karen had already lost a son to suicide. As if this was not all enough, the students were apparently so proud of their behavior, they shot video footage that went on for 10 minutes and uploaded it to YouTube.
This is where things began to unravel somewhat for these mutinous miscreants. Once the video footage hit the Internet, it went VIRAL. The video got more than 100,000 hits from as far away as Australia. People from all over the world have reached out to the school district regarding the video. What’s more, the local police have promised to assist in the investigation. I truly hope that every student involved in this reprehensible behavior receives swift and severe disciplinary action. Perhaps, they can do community service cleaning stalls at the Seneca Park Zoo. After all, why not let animals take care of their own. Furthermore, I would like to see every student involved present Karen Klein with a rose and an apology. This ceremonial policy should take place on camera with their mothers present. Make these students face their actions, face their mothers, face Karen Klein, and ultimately face the world. It seems only fitting since they apparently enjoy a worldwide audience.
I should point out that there is SOME good outcome from all this. Someone started a fundraiser on the Internet to fund a vacation for Karen Klein. The fundraising goal was $5,000. As of this writing, more than $43,000 has been raised on behalf of Karen Klein. The link for the fundraiser is at http://igg.me/p/124322.
To the reprehensible students: May you face a severe penalty for your behavior. I also hope that your mother, grandmother, sister, and future spouse is NEVER subjected to such behavior. May your future children never commit such acts.
To the school district and local authorities: I am sure you all continue to work very hard daily to keep our kids out of the gutter. Clearly, the gutter must also be cleaned out.
To Karen Klein: Thank you for your years of service. I hope you enjoy your well-deserved vacation. I hope that you encounter a random young teenager who will kiss your cheek and hug your neck. Chivalry is not dead. It’s just the reinforcement of chivalry that is lacking.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
The Musty Basement of My Mind
Every once in a while, I get somewhat of a lull in my day. When such a lull occurs, I sometimes let my mind wander on any given random subject that pops into my head. This is why I often refer to my writing as random ramblings and mindless minutiae.Such mental wandering can often lead down some amusing bunny trails.
Allow me to offer you some background that can give you an idea of how the rambling starts. I am what you call a frustrated guitarist. I know a few chords, a few scales, and some decent riffs or two. Having said that, no one is going to make me sing for my supper. Some HAVE been known to start feeding me so I will shut up and stop playing. Now, there are many guitarist out there that I admire. Presently, I am a bit fixated on Jeff Beck. This guy has a long history that includes playing with the likes of Rod Stewart and The Yardbirds. He is also a well known musician in his own right. Jeff Beck is truly a master of the Stratocaster. I have had his song “Freeway Jam” stuck in my head for days.
This fixation on Jeff Beck lead me to watching a video of him performing at the 2010 Crossroads Festival. Watching Jeff Beck playing his beautiful song “Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers” simply made my jaw drop. I also enjoyed watching other acts such as Robert Cray and Joe Bonamassa perform. The seamless interaction with the other musicians onstage is nothing of short of fascinating to me. Then, a pun popped into my head about how it seemed seamless. It was seemingly seamless.
Once the puns started going into my head I started thinking about all the musician jokes I have heard. I have heard (and shared) jokes about drummer, bass players, singers, and guitarist. After all, if I am unwilling to share jokes about guitarists, I have little business joking about the others. Such jokes include (but are not limited to) the following:
Now, all of this rambling had me thinking about the musical pun about slipping on a banana peel: If you don’t C♯ then you might B♭ & in the end your face might # into the ground and you will wind up @ the hospital. This is how my mind wanders in my spare time. I appreciate you indulging me by taking a step into the musty basement that is my mind. Oh yeah, one more joke: What does it mean when a guitarist is drooling from both sides of his mouth? The stage is level.
Allow me to offer you some background that can give you an idea of how the rambling starts. I am what you call a frustrated guitarist. I know a few chords, a few scales, and some decent riffs or two. Having said that, no one is going to make me sing for my supper. Some HAVE been known to start feeding me so I will shut up and stop playing. Now, there are many guitarist out there that I admire. Presently, I am a bit fixated on Jeff Beck. This guy has a long history that includes playing with the likes of Rod Stewart and The Yardbirds. He is also a well known musician in his own right. Jeff Beck is truly a master of the Stratocaster. I have had his song “Freeway Jam” stuck in my head for days.
This fixation on Jeff Beck lead me to watching a video of him performing at the 2010 Crossroads Festival. Watching Jeff Beck playing his beautiful song “Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers” simply made my jaw drop. I also enjoyed watching other acts such as Robert Cray and Joe Bonamassa perform. The seamless interaction with the other musicians onstage is nothing of short of fascinating to me. Then, a pun popped into my head about how it seemed seamless. It was seemingly seamless.
Once the puns started going into my head I started thinking about all the musician jokes I have heard. I have heard (and shared) jokes about drummer, bass players, singers, and guitarist. After all, if I am unwilling to share jokes about guitarists, I have little business joking about the others. Such jokes include (but are not limited to) the following:
- How many drummers does it take to change a light bulb? ONE…TWO…ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!
- How many bass players does it take to change a light bulb? None. Leave it out. No one will notice.
- How many lead singers does it take to change a light bulb? One – he holds the bulb in the socket and the world revolves around him.
- How many guitarists does it take to change a light bulb? Twelve – One to change it and the other eleven to say they could have done it better.
Now, all of this rambling had me thinking about the musical pun about slipping on a banana peel: If you don’t C♯ then you might B♭ & in the end your face might # into the ground and you will wind up @ the hospital. This is how my mind wanders in my spare time. I appreciate you indulging me by taking a step into the musty basement that is my mind. Oh yeah, one more joke: What does it mean when a guitarist is drooling from both sides of his mouth? The stage is level.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
From Henrietta Town Hall to the Commencement Stage (The Beauty of a Dream Realized)
As many of you whom have read my pieces before can by now easily surmise, this is another piece on the subject of graduation. However, one should note that this piece is taking a bit of a different turn in subject matter. Previously, I have written about my kids reaching the point of graduation. I have written about 2 high school graduations and a college graduation. I am very proud of my kids and want them to know that I look forward to the opportunity to write more graduation pieces for them. This piece however focuses on my lovely queen – my wife, Renee.
My wife, Renee, is going through commencement today to celebrate her 4 year degree in Social Work. I won’t lie to anyone. I was nervous about my wife going back to college for her degree. A lot of it had to do with the timing. I had enrolled into a 4 degree program myself in 2010. It took quite a great deal of legwork on my wife’s part to get my college enrollment in place. Once, I have my placement in the program, I had the moment of naiveté in thinking that I could relax since our enrollment struggles were over. I was wrong. My wife then announced that she was choosing to go back to college herself to obtain a degree in social work. I had wondered at the time why this news jolted me so much. My wife pointed out to me in a unrelated conversation recently: “You just don’t like to have things upset your applecart”. That statement proved to be as true in that conversation as it did (in retrospect) about her announcement about her college enrollment. If there is one thing my wife has taught me it is this – An upset applecart is often…upsetting. However, many times, an upset apple cart is often the origin of a mighty fine pie.
I should also point out that my wife’s career in social work did not begin in 2010. It actually began much earlier. Renee and I were married in a town hall in Henrietta, New York in 1993. I had two older kids from a previous marriage. Renee also had a 2 year old girl. In addition, Renee was VERY with child. Our youngest, Caleb was born 3 weeks to the day of our marriage. It was determined in the years that followed that Caleb was born with a mild form of autism - Pervasive Developmental Disorder (Not Otherwise Specified). This diagnosis helped pave a long road of Renee learning to advocate for our children via Hard Knock University (the curriculum is relentless). Renee did a lot of hard work and research to be sure that if any of our four kids, needed services at school, medical care, or even surgery it happened. She proved to be a tenacious tigress who would do anything to provide for her young and devour anyone who tried to impede her task.
So here we are today in 2012. My wife is walking a stage to indicate the start of a new career. Renee is already involved in some organizations that help provide advocacy for people with autism and other developmental disorders. I have seen her help others obtain services they thought was unavailable. She not only allows others to see the tigress on action. She often helps bring out the tiger in others. Her work has even influenced our daughter, Brianna, to steer her own career toward autism awareness and advocacy (a tigress babe in training?) Be advised, Western New York, you are about to see an ambush of tigers take on autism reform and advocacy bigger than you have ever seen.
Now onto a note of a more personal nature to my wife. Renee, I realize that with both of us wrapping up college studies for the semester, we have both been rather busy and I have been rather silent. I have tried to figure a way to express how extraordinarily proud I am of you today. To do so, I am going to borrow one of our daughter’s favorite quotes: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt. Congratulations, my lovely queen on the beauty of a dream realized.. I look forward to seeing you move the tassel on your crown. I love you.
My wife, Renee, is going through commencement today to celebrate her 4 year degree in Social Work. I won’t lie to anyone. I was nervous about my wife going back to college for her degree. A lot of it had to do with the timing. I had enrolled into a 4 degree program myself in 2010. It took quite a great deal of legwork on my wife’s part to get my college enrollment in place. Once, I have my placement in the program, I had the moment of naiveté in thinking that I could relax since our enrollment struggles were over. I was wrong. My wife then announced that she was choosing to go back to college herself to obtain a degree in social work. I had wondered at the time why this news jolted me so much. My wife pointed out to me in a unrelated conversation recently: “You just don’t like to have things upset your applecart”. That statement proved to be as true in that conversation as it did (in retrospect) about her announcement about her college enrollment. If there is one thing my wife has taught me it is this – An upset applecart is often…upsetting. However, many times, an upset apple cart is often the origin of a mighty fine pie.
I should also point out that my wife’s career in social work did not begin in 2010. It actually began much earlier. Renee and I were married in a town hall in Henrietta, New York in 1993. I had two older kids from a previous marriage. Renee also had a 2 year old girl. In addition, Renee was VERY with child. Our youngest, Caleb was born 3 weeks to the day of our marriage. It was determined in the years that followed that Caleb was born with a mild form of autism - Pervasive Developmental Disorder (Not Otherwise Specified). This diagnosis helped pave a long road of Renee learning to advocate for our children via Hard Knock University (the curriculum is relentless). Renee did a lot of hard work and research to be sure that if any of our four kids, needed services at school, medical care, or even surgery it happened. She proved to be a tenacious tigress who would do anything to provide for her young and devour anyone who tried to impede her task.
So here we are today in 2012. My wife is walking a stage to indicate the start of a new career. Renee is already involved in some organizations that help provide advocacy for people with autism and other developmental disorders. I have seen her help others obtain services they thought was unavailable. She not only allows others to see the tigress on action. She often helps bring out the tiger in others. Her work has even influenced our daughter, Brianna, to steer her own career toward autism awareness and advocacy (a tigress babe in training?) Be advised, Western New York, you are about to see an ambush of tigers take on autism reform and advocacy bigger than you have ever seen.
Now onto a note of a more personal nature to my wife. Renee, I realize that with both of us wrapping up college studies for the semester, we have both been rather busy and I have been rather silent. I have tried to figure a way to express how extraordinarily proud I am of you today. To do so, I am going to borrow one of our daughter’s favorite quotes: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt. Congratulations, my lovely queen on the beauty of a dream realized.. I look forward to seeing you move the tassel on your crown. I love you.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
More Mining for More Minutiae
Howdy there, folks. Once again, I am here to give you my take on the events of this past week. After being caught up with the combined demands of work, school, and family; it is good to be back writing again. Typically, when I write, I try to find information or situations that provoke confusion, anger, or (ideally) laughter. The news events from this past week have been, if nothing else, thought provoking.
One of the major events of this week is that Facebook founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg got married this weekend. Zuckerberg married a lovely lady named Priscilla Chan after a 9 year relationship. This wedding occurred the day after Facebook had an IPO that could have made Zuckerberg a gazillionaire. Well played, Mrs. Zuckerberg. I hope you have a better ROI than your husband did at his IPO.
There have been several celebrities who have passed away in this past month. Like most of us, I tend to file such news under the categories of “c’est la vie”, “que sera sera”, “vini vidi vici” (no wait, that one doesn’t apply here). Such passings have included actor George “Goober” Lindsey and hair designer Vidal Sassoon. This week however, two musical giants from the disco era have left this earth after losing their respective bouts with cancer – Donna Summer and Robin Gibb. Now, I was not a huge disco fan mind you. However, as a very young teenager, I had to assimilate somewhat because disco was played at school dances and school dances had girls. It is with this in mind that I must thank Miss Summer for all the kisses I was able to get during “Last Dance”. Also, please forgive the fact that I once danced in public. Robin Gibb was on third of a harmonious trio known as the Bee Gees (Brothers Gibb). Mr. Gibb, I forgive you and your brothers for the Sgt. Pepper’s movie. Thank you for such songs as “Nights on Broadway”, How Deep Is Your Love?”, and “I Started a Joke”. May you and Miss Summer rest in peace.
On a more local note, a man here in Rochester, NY has reported that his dog is missing. Apparently, his cocker spaniel (Gabi) was abducted from the back seat of his car while he was shopping at the Rochester Public Market. Gabi is only a year old and her owners are desperate to get her back. Personally, I think anybody who steals someone else’s dog ought to be flogged in the center of the public market. I’d settle for Gabi’s safe return and a mild dog bite.
Well, folks, thanks for indulging me. I will try not to go so long between postings as I truly enjoy writing them and sharing them with you.
One of the major events of this week is that Facebook founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg got married this weekend. Zuckerberg married a lovely lady named Priscilla Chan after a 9 year relationship. This wedding occurred the day after Facebook had an IPO that could have made Zuckerberg a gazillionaire. Well played, Mrs. Zuckerberg. I hope you have a better ROI than your husband did at his IPO.
There have been several celebrities who have passed away in this past month. Like most of us, I tend to file such news under the categories of “c’est la vie”, “que sera sera”, “vini vidi vici” (no wait, that one doesn’t apply here). Such passings have included actor George “Goober” Lindsey and hair designer Vidal Sassoon. This week however, two musical giants from the disco era have left this earth after losing their respective bouts with cancer – Donna Summer and Robin Gibb. Now, I was not a huge disco fan mind you. However, as a very young teenager, I had to assimilate somewhat because disco was played at school dances and school dances had girls. It is with this in mind that I must thank Miss Summer for all the kisses I was able to get during “Last Dance”. Also, please forgive the fact that I once danced in public. Robin Gibb was on third of a harmonious trio known as the Bee Gees (Brothers Gibb). Mr. Gibb, I forgive you and your brothers for the Sgt. Pepper’s movie. Thank you for such songs as “Nights on Broadway”, How Deep Is Your Love?”, and “I Started a Joke”. May you and Miss Summer rest in peace.
On a more local note, a man here in Rochester, NY has reported that his dog is missing. Apparently, his cocker spaniel (Gabi) was abducted from the back seat of his car while he was shopping at the Rochester Public Market. Gabi is only a year old and her owners are desperate to get her back. Personally, I think anybody who steals someone else’s dog ought to be flogged in the center of the public market. I’d settle for Gabi’s safe return and a mild dog bite.
Well, folks, thanks for indulging me. I will try not to go so long between postings as I truly enjoy writing them and sharing them with you.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Insert Bad Bowling Pun Here
There are some leisure activities that I do not particularly like. One fine example would be golf. This is because I do not understand a sport that will have a grown man waking up at 5 AM (on his day off), spend hours in an activity that would have a Bible believing pastor cussing and throwing metal objects, and say that they do it to “unwind and relax”. There are other activities that, while I truly enjoy them, I do not participate very often because I just absolutely stink at it. The example I will use for this writing is the wonderful pastime of bowling.
I find bowling to be a truly enjoyable activity. That is, once you put aside any germophobic concerns and rent a pair of uncomfortable shoes to play the game. Once you have done this, you get to hurl a sphere down a lane with the intention of knocking 10 pins down. Each regulation game has 10 frames with up to two chances per frame. The 10th frame offers up to three chances to knock down the pins. These means you have up to 21 chances to hurl the sphere, knock down the pins, and make the obligatory grandstanding gesture. As an added bonus, the grandstanding is not part of your score so you are not penalized if your Chuck Berry duck walk does not meet the approval of your audience. I mean what is not to like about this game?
Nevertheless, I do not bowl very often as I have never been very good at it. This is in spite of the fact that I was actually on a bowling league in 6th grade. Mind you, I think it was the league’s first year and to get on the team you just had to sign up. You only got “cut” once they ran out of spots. Still, if you are a student of Azalea Middle School in Mobile, Alabama and on the bowling team, you can now stated that you have read the work from one of the league’s pioneers.
Once a week, after school, we would take a bus to a nearby bowling alley. Each team in the league would bowl 3 games. The leader of our team was in the 8th grade and a very proficient bowler. He was very good at certain bowling techniques that I routinely failed. For example, he was very good at keeping his ball out of the gutter and actually knocking the pins down. He was also good at doing so while avoiding two things I did quite often – crossing the foul line or falling down. Actually, in one shining moment, I did both of those things. I formed my stance. I proceeded forward and began to hurl my ball down the lane. However, in doing so, I slipped and fell. Once I fell, I actually began to slide forward with half my body ending up across the foul line. Normally, my team leader was very stern and impatient about such things (probably because I managed to do this so often). This time was different. He came over, helped me up and asked me if I was OK. He then offered to let me bowl my frame over again. I curiously asked him why since I had, once again, fallen AND crossed the foul line. He then pointed toward the pins. I HAD KNOCKED THEM ALL DOWN. That’s right. I fell down, wound up across the foul line from my head to my waist, and got a STRIKE. I bowled my frame again, without falling, and knocked down a total of 2 pins. Clearly, lightning wasn’t striking twice here.
Yesterday, some 34 years later, I decided to go to the bowling alley for the first time in what must have been a good 10 years. The reason I did this is that I signed up for a corporate bowling tournament at my job to support Big Brothers/Big Sisters. I wanted bowling to be a recent memory before the tournament. I rented my pair of community germ ridden, uncomfortable shoes and selected my bowling ball. I looked up and, with humorous curiosity, asked God: How long will it take before I fall down in front of a bunch of 7 year olds having a birthday party to my right? God provided his answer – in the first frame. The number 10 pin was a routine victim in my practice as it was often the only pin I knocked down. It should be noted, however, that I knocked that lone pin down with great ferocity. In subsequent frames, I believe the other pins fell down merely as an act of compassion and kindness. I did manage to get a strike without falling or crossing the foul line.
I don’t think the other teams in this forthcoming tournament have much to worry about from the likes of me. Still, if I was a number 10 bowling pin, I’d start quivering with fear.
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