AHHHHHHH! TIME SUCK!

I joined facebook.

Russian Through the Water

At my health club this afternoon, doing lap pool lengths with a kick board; guy in the lane next to me is swimming freestyle laps. Two large Russian woman ambled into the water like Slavic hippos and blocked both lanes. There was a brief game of aquatic chicken in which the freestyle guy, myself, and the Daughters of Muscovy all advanced on a collision course. But the women moved at the last second and I continued my workout, though wary now. Clearly the idea of a lap pool as a place of exercise, as opposed to drowning dissidents, seemed to have escaped them. They eventually went over to the hot tub and bobbed in front of other people's air jets. 

Big fat commies.

Japanese Video

A sneeze gag from the antipodes.

Greek Pop Interlude

Live from Salonika. See if you can remember the name of this song.

Happy Valentine's Day

At the grocery store yesterday there was a card rack near the check-out counter. Most of the cards were addressed to "My Darling Wife," somehow implying that men are more likely to make such purchases at the last moment.

I bought a card for my wife.

Then I sued the store for gender discrimination and creating an uncomfortable atmosphere through implications of tardiness.

Legally, I will break the store like a pot, tear down the building and sell the land to a government agency that wants to reintroduce grizzly bears to Southern California.

(There's millions for that in the stimulus package.)

Plus, next month is St. Patrick's Day.

Then Easter.

Then Flag Day . . . .

Gimli and I

Playing around with Animoto, this slide show-making site.

h/t: Kiley

Keeper of the Ragtime

Who among the next generation will play the "Maple Leaf Rag?" Ragtime composer and aficionado Keeper mentions an upcoming documentary that poses a similar, if larger, question on the future of this most American music. It is beyond me to perpetuate ragtime. (I can't even remember to save the coupons from Dominos.) But I encourage others and hope they succeed. And while they're at it, bring back the straw boater.

Knee Update and Fast Old Man

In Japan, a 60-year-old man ran a marathon in two-hours and thirty-eight minutes. That's like, freaking impossible. Yet, he did it anyway, breaking an 18-year world age group record. Congratulations to Yoshihisa Hosaka. You are a cool dude.

Meanwhile, my running recovery mines untapped levels of diagnosis. The orthopaedist I saw yesterday suggested torn knee cartilage. An MRI would clear matters up. For cost reasons, I must first try and convince my new HMO doctor to authorize such a procedure. Perhaps I'll succeed this time. I can use the savings to fly to Japan and hang out with Hosaka. How do you run that fast, man? How do you run . . . period. Let's watch "Silent Library."

Sony's New Tech Hottie

(If you have kids, turn the volume down.)


h/t: Freakazoid! writer Ken Segall ("Two Against Freak" and "Arms Akimbo.")

Off the Canvas - Again

Since 2007, my friend Dale has battled cancer. He went into remission, but last November, the hospital reported his cancer had returned Stage IV ("cancers have often metastasized, or spread to other organs or throughout the body") and did he have a will. Dale considered simply staying home and waiting for the Reaper. However, for the sake of family, he agreed to a final, desperate, double-chemo, go-round. With more determination than hope, Dale shaved his head in advance of baldness and prepared his mind and spirit to fight. 

Last Sunday, he announced his disease had retreated sufficiently, and that doctors had given him the Okay, to return to work part-time. He was laughing and in good spirits as only someone who has evaded cancer's pitiless grip can be. I think he's also glad he battled in the face of dire odds and didn't cede life because of chemo loathing. I've seen the difference his recovery has made to his family, faces once heavy with loss, now bright with relief.

What will happen long term, I cannot say. There is an operation ahead, and more chemo, but a corner seems to have been turned and Dale has been rewarded with a gift of days. How he handles this gift will be a challenge. Life absorbs us. Having faced death, it's not something we want to dwell on. Soon it seems you've never had bigger problems than bills and stuff to fix around the house. But for now, there's joy in Dale's household, and going out for sushi, and watching Ultimate Fighting Championships with his teenage son on TNT.  

 

PAMF

Moving some heavy boxes yesterday and jammed my left middle finger. This morning, it had an interesting new crook. I am now in possession of a passive-aggressive middle finger. I can flip a guy off and use the new bend to indicate that I really meant someone nearby at an oblique angle. (Unwise, but theoretically interesting.) Luckily, I visit the orthopedist tomorrow for my knees. While he's got the x-ray out, he can zap my pamf. Between my knees and finger, I'll have enough radiation pumped in me to light up Pasadena. From there, perhaps work with the Atomic Energy Commission. In time, exile to a Channel Island, where I'll glow and kill goats. Don't move heavy boxes, please. Invest in a home forklift. That was my downfall, playing it cheap. Get the forklift. Your family, government and Channel Island wildlife will thank you.