Doctors and Swimming and Knees, Oh, My!

Monday I'll visit the HMO-approved orthopedist. Here's hoping this fine medical fellow approves my MRI. I wanna know whaz'sup with my knees. Besides, swimming is becoming dangerous. My health club pool turned into a free-for-all yesterday. Are Friday's Savage Swim Days? I'm not sure. But between machine-like swimmers tearing up the lanes, big fat men bobbing aimlessly like rogue planets, very pregnant women attempting to organize the chaos, and teenagers determined to jack the chaos up to professional levels, I was grateful to escape the water unmarked. Sunday morning, I'm taking a "swim test" with an organization set up to assist the older swimmer. I think they want to see how many laps I can do without swallowing half the pool. Then they make recommendations such as lessons or finding another sport. I could be looking at no running for months. So, it's time to find out what I can do and do it.

Just not on Fridays.   

From Asia

More from way over there.

Dogacide

My neighbors have two forms of communication: loud, angry hectoring and unrestrained rage. Mother yells at child who yells at dog: Maslow's aggression displacement. As a result, the dog, a book-sized yappy beast, has become emotionally fragile. I lay down early this evening for a nap, but quit when the dog began a high-pitched, barking jag. Naturally, its neurotic owners weren't home. I considered various forms of quieting the animal: buying a small dog of the opposite sex, poison meat, singing to it. Eventually, the Dysfunctionals returned and the dog clammed up, knowing a drum-load of aggression would soon be emptied onto its wee furry head. It's really not the dog's fault. Mother yells at child who yells at dog who yaps away who upsets neighbor who silences dog with a trench shovel. But they'd just get another. And if I truncheon the neighbors, then I risk prison where I'd sit around all day without meaningful work. Like now. Maybe I'm under house arrest? Maybe this has already happened. Jurassic Park III is on television. Instead of Sam Neil and Tia Leoni, I imagine my neighbors and their dog trapped on an island of hungry prehistoric beasts. Then I imagine all the dinosaurs swimming away exasparated. But neighbors and dog remain on the island. I feel better.

Ruegger Storyboard Sample (In Color!)

As promised, here is sample of what Tom Ruegger is doing in the animated squirrel department. Thanks to Keeper for recalling the original post.

Growing Nuts

Back in December, Paul and I recorded voices for characters drawn by Tom Ruegger. Since then, Tom's been working on getting the characters animated. Shortly, I should have a sample from the storyboard of two squirrels whose argument on nuts soars into philosophic realms before descending to an earthier plane.

My Sucky Swimming

Had to meet some friends out in the San Gabriel Valley this afternoon. My health club is on the way, so I stopped for an hour of swimming. First I kickboarded 20 lengths. This was harder than it looked, at least for me.  Then I swam freestyle for awhile, but have terrible form and end up gasping for air at the end of every length. I didn't swallow water, but maybe that'll come if I swim more often.

Hurry up MRI!

Tubby Man in a Doctor's Office

That's me. I was weighed at the doctor's office yesterday and the technician giggled and asked if I had recently performed in any aquatic parks. (Later, I "accidentally" spilled urine on her shoe.) But there's no denying that in six months of injury, I've put on 20 pounds. Now I must commit to losing weight. I'm so unmotivated, but I really don't want to go back to 244 pounds with ridges of fat on my back like sand dunes. So, off to the gym today, then my wife and I will order in pizza . . . maybe not for a few weeks.