Endorphin Machine

This morning, I was reading an interesting article at Cracked.com about immunity to pain. Here is a snippet:

"Welcome to the wonderful world of endorphins. The very name of this miracle substance means "morphine produced naturally in the body." It's the ultimate feel-good substance. It's released into the body during exercise, excitement and orgasm, and it has the power to dull or completely eliminate pain by coating the receiving end of the synapses in the brain that would otherwise receive pain signals from the rest of your body."

I had to chuckle as I experienced all three examples of endorphin release (exercise, excitement, and orgasm) last night. Looking over the Black Friday flyers, I thought it might be a good time to get a widescreen TV. I had planned on going to Wal-Mart to get one early Friday morning, but first wanted to stop somewhere to see what size TV would be best for our family room.

Yesterday evening, after eating at Friday's, my wife and I went to Best Buy. An employee greeted us at the door. I said to him, "You ready for the weekend?" He replied that retail employees are never really ready for the pandemonium that occurs the day after Thanksgiving.

We headed back to the TV's and realized that a 19" is way too small of a set. A 32" set would be much better while still being affordable; Wal-Mart's set was about $50 cheaper than Best Buy's. It was then that I noticed a sign which said, "Why wait until Black Friday to get this set when you can have it today?" Paying a bit more for Best Buy's set might be worth not having to get up early and braving the crowds on Friday for a TV that might not even be available by the time I got to it.

My wife and I discussed the matter before heading into the can to clear our heads a bit. The thought of having a 32" widescreen LCD TV in my home that very night is what caused me to feel genuine excitement. I was a bit light-headed and giddy, something that I rarely experience.

Once we brought it home, I wondered what DVD I should watch to test it out. I settled on the first "Lord of the Rings" movie (my favorite film of 2001). It was pure heaven.



The LCD made the picture much brighter and the colors were incredible. I laughed at many of the same parts as when I initially viewed the movie, something not typical for me.

I watched the first half of the film last night and plan to continue tomorrow; I have the extended edition (that's what she said) of all three movies which comes out to close to eleven hours, so I'll be occupied with them for the next several days.

Before watching "Rings", I walked 22 minutes on the treadmill which is where the exercise portion of the endorphin equation came in. I plan to put even more time on it this evening. The orgasm element came into play a bit later. I don't know which of the three gave me a greater high last night. Ultimately, it doesn't matter as I can do any and all of them pretty much anytime I want.

Hope Trail

One evening in the mid 90's, having completed my homework at the Winona State computer lab, I decided to write something for fun. But how to get in the proper mood? After messing with some settings, I stumbled upon the idea of working with a unique font; a Western-style one, in this case. Here's what I came up with:

Hope Trail

Sunlight burned across the desolate prairie. She walked through the tall grass, her dark brown hair blowing against her face. Her eyes were as determined as the settlers of a hundred years ago.

She walked with self-assurance, her eyes focused and her forehead tensed. She wore blue jeans, faded and torn. Her blouse was red and smelled of fire. The miles she had traveled could be seen on her face, sunburned and dirty. Her heart pounded as she gazed at the lonesome valley.

She thought of the long road that lay ahead, but she was strong, as strong as a dozen oxen on a rampage. She would never quit, not as long as blood flowed through her veins. Though all was lost, she still had hope and one more chance. She walked under the blazing sun as sweat began to form on her face.

She found a patch of water and stopped to rest. Lying under the big sky, she wondered if she would ever see home again. It had been so long and she had suffered countless hardships. But this time things would be different. This time she would fulfill her destiny. Life leads one through many detours, but you usually end up where you want to go. And she was so tired of taking detours. She slept for a long while as an eagle soared across the summer sky.

The Lesser of Three Evils

I just started reading one of the books I received for my birthday. It's about how to deal with change. The first chapter talks about the three major types of changes that can occur in one's life. They are:

Relationship, such as the dissolution of a long-term one
Money, such as the loss of a job, and
Health, a diagnosis of cancer, for example.

Now, it's trouble enough if you're going through one of these things, but imagine experiencing two or even all three at once. This got me to thinking, which of the three would I choose to experience if I had to? Not health as they say if you don't have your health, you don't have anything. Not relationship as it can be a son-of-a-bitch to find a new one.

No, I would choose money as this would seem to be the one that could most easily be controlled. If a person loses their job, there are quite a few options available. Even if unemployment benefits cannot be obtained, it's not too difficult to tighten one's belt by eating out less and spending a smaller portion on various entertainments. Many companies will allow their customers to set up payment plans. School loans can be deferred. Chow mein is inexpensive and sex is (usually) free.

Endless Sleep

As I began my fifth year of college in the fall of '93, all was not well. I had recently been diagnosed with major depression and though talk thearapy was helping, the psychiatist said it would take several weeks for the antidepressants I was prescribed to take effect (assuming they worked for me, that is).

School was a chore. As a Business major, I took a number of Marketing classes. Under normal circumstances, I would've quite enjoyed taking Consumer Behavior, but I sure wasn't up for it that fall. My creativity was sparked a tad, however, when the professor, a Mr. Bovinet, asked us to write up a couple paragraphs on what product best fit our personalities. I went with an awfully downbeat piece, but what could I do? That's how I felt. Herewith is a copy of what I submitted (click on the pic for a larger version):

I wondered what his reaction would be. If confronted, I would just say that I was being seen by professionals. He wound up giving me a good grade on it and didn't ask any questions though I noticed that he seemed to keeping an eye on me for the remainder of the term (perhaps looking for any other possible suicidal indicators). I found out later that Sudafed isn't a sleeping pill.

November 10, 1970

According to my parents, I was born on this day in 1970. Richard Nixon was President, the number one song was "I'll Be There" by the Jackson 5. Below is an entry I made into my personal journal on November 17, 1999, almost exactly ten years ago:

"My birthday went very well. My mom picked me up at work at 4pm. She took me home to take the dogs out and then we went to Fridays. She said someone was waiting for me. It turned out to be my dad and, of course, my wife, my life. We had a very good dinner. My love gave me an Adam Sandler CD, a Tori Amos videotape, a cake, and a ski mask. My mother gave me the Friendship with God book by Neale Donald Walsch as well as a framed picture of me and my parents when I was a toddler. My father paid for the meal and gave me $100 cash. I spent five of those dollars on "A Country Christmas 1999" at Target. This year's Christmas will be spent at the cusp of our moving into our first house."

Ten years later, I have to chuckle at the consistency of my gift requests. This year, I've again asked for Neale Donald Walsch's latest book and would've asked for Tori Amos' newest one but for the fact that it comes out today.

It's not mentioned in the post, but my father coming was quite notable. You see, he was a Jehovah's Witness and they are strictly forbidden from having anything to do with birthday celebrations, one reason being that a couple big-time parties in ancient times led to some beheadings (for more info on this, go here).

In my mind, that's not enough to throw out the tradition. It'd be like if a woman slit a man's throat after having sex and a law was decreed that in order to avoid this happening again, no one should ever have sex. It's basically throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

The reason my dad decided to come even though he was still technically a Witness was that he had become disillusioned with the faith after the way one of his sons was treated by the elders in the congregation after he (the son) made a slight lapse in judgement (he looked admiringly at himself in the mirror; no, it wasn't that, but it wasn't much worse).



The Witnesses' loss turned out to be my gain and I'm not just talking about the one hundred smackers I received that night.

Addendum: Here is a pic from last night's (11-10-09) celebration:

A Night on the Town

Last night, the Mrs. and I went to Friday's for dinner. It was strange being there at 5:30pm and seeing it dark outside. There were a number of people at the bar, but not too many in the restaurant proper. We had a coupon for a free appetizer which my wife used to order potato skins. However, she asked that they come without sour cream or bacon. When they were brought out 20 minutes later, it was just potato skins with some cheese on top. Not very appealing to me, but she had quite a few. The waitress asked how many trick-or-treaters we had; I said a couple dozen. She said she and her kids dressed up, but not a soul rang on her doorbell. Poor girl, all that leftover candy.

Next it was on to ShopKo to buy a few necessities. In the beauty section, I looked for my trusty Carmex. There was a supervisor wearing a Brad Johnson jersey who was overseeing the work of a couple new recruits.



Not able to find my precious white jar of lip balm, I took a half-spent jar of it out of my pocket, went up to the super, and said, "Hey, BJ. Where do I find this?" One of his subordinates showed me. As I walked away, I heard him ask, "Why did he call me BJ?"

Next, I went to the DVD section where there was a young guy with long black hair doing some stocking. Journey's 80's classic "Don't Stop Believin" was playing. I was quite surprised to hear him say that he loved the song (he hadn't even been born when the song originally came out). I made a comment to my wife about a movie I wanted to Netflix called "Whatever Works". He overheard and said he'd never heard of it. His intrusion into our conversation made him seem like a video store clerk-wannabe. Sometimes I miss those days myself.

After checking out, we headed to the movie theatre to see "The Invention of Lying" (I had seen it a month before, but was eager to go again). We walked into the lobby and didn't see anyone who we could purchase a ticket from. A moment later, I noticed an employee talking to another employee. After a few seconds, I said "Ding" relatively loudly (I did this a couple weeks ago at a bank when a teller didn't notice me at the counter). It's obviously meant to simulate ringing a bell for service.

After doing this last night, the ticket lady kept talking to her coworker. So a few seconds later, I did the "ding" again. The lady then came up to us. My wife asked why I did this. The lady overheard me say, "Well, when I worked at the video store, the customer always came first, so you wouldn't talk to another employee if there was a customer waiting". The theatre is called Chateau, but it is experiences like this that impel me to call it Shiteau.

Going A Year Without Health Insurance

When I lost my job in late 2008, my healthcare benefits disappeared as well (though they weren't the greatest, anyway). The first thing I tried to figure out was how to still get my prescription meds for a reasonable price. I did some calling around and found a store where I could get them even cheaper than what I was paying with insurance. Interesting...

After a time, I looked online for affordable health coverage (an oxymoron if there ever was one). I pondered paying an exorbitant amount for catastrophic coverage, but after about 22 seconds, realized that it just wasn't justified.

Other than being curious about my cholesterol numbers, I've had no reason to see the doctor over the past year. Even if I had affordable coverage, I'd be down more than a grand as most health insurance costs more than a hundred dollars a month.

I haven't been extra careful when walking down the street (avoiding black cats, wearing glasses that are practical as opposed to fashionable, not telling smokers they smell like shit) as I feel that whatever happens, happens.

Circumstances have changed of late that lead me to believe I'll be back among those who are covered in the near future, but I have to admit to getting a bit of a kick out of not being covered. It's kinda like getting up every morning and heading to work without wearing drawers. I can certainly see the appeal it has for twentysomethings.

Pimp My Bike

Throughout my college years (1989-1996), my main mode of transportation was by bike. In the early 90's, I had a standard Huffy 10-speed bike, the kind where you sit leaning way forward and have ridiculously skinny wheels. It got uncomfortable on long trips, but was much faster than walking. The seat was also small and didn't offer much support; this could be why I'm unable to father children.

Tired of getting my ass tore up (that's what she said), I went to Kolter's Bike Shop one afternoon and found an incredibly soft gel seat that was much bigger than the one I had for a mere $15. I purchased the thing of beauty and picked it up the next day (Mr. Kolter needed time to install it). The pleasure I felt on riding the bike home was incredible, like going from using the toilet paper that is furnished in Wal-Mart bathrooms to the softest and thickest shit you can dream of.

With the new seat, biking became more than just a way to get from here to there, it was a joy unto itself. When the time came to purchase a new ride, I decided that a mountain bike might be in order. The wheels were much thicker, they didn't have the ridiculously curved handles that 10-speeds do, and a water bottle was provided for those really hot days. It was also important that I purchased a bike that had a cool name.

As a child, I had a orange banana-seated bike called SkyHawk. I loved that thing. I once outrode a bully (Danny Lehnertz) who was trying to get me; I felt like Han Solo in the Millenium Falcon shaking the Imperials.

I wound up purchasing a green and black bike called Mojave Gulch. I took frequent out-of-town trips on it. I liked to head over the bridge into Wisconsin.



One time, I rode more than 12 miles into Trempealeau, a river town on the Wisconsin side. Instead of taking time to enjoy the city, I started to think about the long voyage back and headed back home. I probably should've been scared of the cars and trucks driving 55 MPH+ past me, but I can't say I was. I also visited my childhood hometown, Rollingstone. While there, I parked in the playground of the elementary school I attended and went on the swings. From there, I could see the house that we lived in in the late 70's and early 80's.

One spring, '92 I believe, I watched the Weather Channel every morning to see how warm it was gonna get. If it was going to be warmer than 50 degrees Fahrenheit, there was a good chance I'd take a recreational ride somewhere.

A couple years later, it was time to get another bike. This time, I chose Huffy's Stone Mountain.



It's the bike I had when I met my wife-to-be. A few months later, I bought a car, so no longer needed to ride the thing. However, on some afternoons, I took it out and rode the local trails. It's been years now since I've ridden a bike (Stone Mountain is in the garage, but his tires are flat), but I'll always be glad for the many years I spent being environmentally conscious by not driving a car (though my wife will probably never forgive me for the toll it wound up taking on my balls).

My First Time...On the Net

I remember the first time I hopped on the World Wide Web. It was 1994. I was about halfway through college. A high school friend and I went to one of the school's computer labs and gave it a whirl. We were both big on "Beavis and Butthead", so headed to a site about them. Only a few minutes later, my friend played a recording of them chuckling. A couple other people in the lab looked at him, fooling around while they were trying to finish assignments.

Sometime later, the school had a special lab set up where people could go to just surf the net. I liked going there in between classes. It was always a bummer when all the seats were taken. The video below reminds me of those early days when Netscape was the main search engine and many of the graphics were still quite primitive. Enjoy the trip back.

(The Memory of) Pain is Temporary

Last winter, my wife and I went to Ashland, Oregon (I wrote extensively about it here). I was somewhat surprised recently to read that I had a reasonable amount of neck pain the first couple days I was there. Looking back now, it's like I didn't actually experience the pain, my mind seems to only want to remember the good things about the trip.

This is most likely a universal experience. So when we think that some past event was such an awesome time or that days gone by far surpass what we're going through today, most likely we're remembering the way it never was. Something to keep in mind the next time you get wistful for the past (though there's virtually no question that the Clinton years were the best of all times in which to live).

Two-Ton Tessie

A month ago, I posted video of our Saint Bernard when she was but a pup. Now here she is full-grown "playing" with little Zoe:

Shades

I lost my sunglasses the day before last. Apparently, I left them on the trunk of my girl's car while it was parked in the garage and then forgot to obtain them the following morning when going to work (as it was rainy out). She didn't notice the spectacles as she left, so they musta fell off onto the road somewhere. I've had them for years, in fact, just a few days before, I was marveling at how I don't generally lose glasses; the previous pair I had for a number of years as well until they wore out. Both were Viper Blublockers purchased from a summer street vendor.

I was bummed for a bit before realizing I should take my own advice and see every change as an opportunity. I thought of ordering another pair online, but then felt it might be best to scope things out around town, see what else is out there. Perhaps I could find an old-school pair that would make people think I'm Don Draper.



One good thing about losing my glasses at this time of year is that the only time I'll be wearing them is in my car as the weather is not really favorable (and won't be for some time) for taking walks. I don't plan to spend any more than $25.

I can still remember the first time I bought sunglasses (at the age of 20). They were quite dark, kinda like the Terminator's. I was somewhat embarrassed the first time I wore them (walking to my Dad's place) as I felt I looked cool enough without wearing them, but WITH them, forget it.

UPDATE: Mission Accomplished. I bought (would you believe) ESPN glasses:



After purchasing them, I went to the grocery store to buy some food. For the heck of it, I perused their sunglass selection. While doing so, I glanced up and noticed a man reading a magazine. Which one? ESPN.

Take Your Pick

I do many things in the morning before leaving the house: taking a shower, getting dressed, pleasing myself. But I never seem to remember to "clean" my nose. I drive to work, work for a couple hours before nature calls and then head to the bathroom. Once there, I can literally feel my nose screaming for relief. It is then that I use my finger to pick at its residue. I really need to put something in my bathroom to remind me to do this shortly after waking.

I typically use the two minutes spent brushing my teeth walking around the house, petting the cat, and marveling at how someone I work with has over 500 friends on Facebook. Another of my colleagues recommended her as a friend, but wouldn't I be just a drop in the bucket to such greatness?

Sometimes at work, I'll want to itch my ass, but first have to look around to make sure no one is looking my way (as if they don't do the same thing). Walking around the lake when such an urge strikes, I'm tempted to do the same looksie, but am generally like, "Who gives a fuck?!" and just do it already. One can't live their life worried that others are gonna think less of them because they like to "itch" certain body parts.

"I Loved It!", "I Hated It!"

A couple weeks ago, my wife and her friend went to Matt Damon's new movie "The Informant!". I told her that the reviews for it were excellent and she was able to convince her friend to go along with her. I returned from work one afternoon and listened as she told me that "it was terrible...but you might like it". I seriously doubted it was terrible, not with a Tomatometer reading over 70%, not from the director of Erin Brockovich and Ocean's 11 (as well as its sequels).

I finally had the opportunity to see it yesterday afternoon and found it to be very good; I chuckled a great deal as the story unfolded. One of the most amusing things was when Damon (as the narrator) would make statements to himself that had nothing to do with what was onscreen. Here is one of my favorites:

Mark Whitacre: Polar bears cover their noses before they pounce on a seal. How do polar bears know their noses are black? Did they look in the water one day, see their reflection and say, "Man, I'd be invisible if it wasn't for that thing."

I was mystified at how others could say that it wasn't good. It's like we literally saw different movies. My wife and her friend also didn't care for "(500) Days of Summer" which I absolutely adored.



Could it be they were expecting a standard romantic comedy while I knew it had an unconventional narrative and didn't necessarily end happily? I've been a fan for more than a decade of quirky, offbeat films while others may prefer the cookie-cutter pleasures of action movies and chick flicks.

That's why when someone says "That was an awesome movie!", it might help to know what their five favorite movies of all-time are. If "Transformers" is on their list, steer clear. At least I would, as that person's taste doesn't match up at all with my own. Call me crazy, but I like to see something unique when I go to the movie theatre, not the same ol' formulaic garbage.

BTW, in a nod to "Team America", when I went up to the box-office attendant yesterday, all I said was "Matt Damon" in the exact same way that it is said in these scenes.

I Wanna Catch Somethin'

A co-worker of mine got a flu shot yesterday. Being that she has asthma, I don't blame her. She said she's gonna make her husband get one as well since she doesn't want to catch something from him. Poor guy. I've noted before that I don't get the flu shot, that I prefer to take my chances and see what it gets me. I've been very fortunate in that (as I've also noted) I rarely get sick. I recently heard it said that getting sick encourages one to look inward, to be reflective, to temporarily be free of the daily business of life. If that's the case, then I'm really missing the boat. Anyone got any viruses you can send me that might help me grow spiritually? Cuz if getting sick helps one learn to overcome, I ain't learnin' shit.

I actually believe that all illness is self-created (at some level). Here's a quote from my favorite book in regards to this:

"Now let's understand what you probably already know: all illness is self-created. Even conventional medical doctors are now seeing how people make themselves sick.
Most people do so quite unconsciously. (They don't even know what they're doing.) So when they get sick, they don't know what hit them. It feels as though something has befallen them, rather than that they did something to themselves.
This occurs because most people move through life—not simply health issues and consequences—unconsciously.
People smoke and wonder why they get cancer.
People ingest animals and fat and wonder why they get blocked arteries.
People stay angry all their lives and wonder why they get heart attacks.
People compete with other people—mercilessly and under incredible stress—and wonder why they have strokes.
The not-so-obvious truth is that most people worry themselves to death.
Worry is just about the worst form of mental activity there is—next to hate, which is deeply self destructive.

Worry is pointless. It is wasted mental energy. It also creates bio-chemical reactions which harm the body, producing everything from indigestion to coronary arrest, and multitude of things in between.
Health will improve almost at once when worrying ends."

My Honeymoon

On August 24th, 1998, my wife-of-less-than-24-hours and I left Illinois and drove to the Milwaukee airport. We both felt great. The wedding was fabulous, but now the time had come for just the two of us to celebrate. We parked the car and began to remove the luggage we'd brought. I'd hoped to bring along my fan to use as white noise at the hotel, but wasn't able to find any room to put it in. Crap, I probably wasn't gonna be able to sleep well without it.

We headed into the airport and waited for our flight to board. Once on the plane, we relaxed. After about 3 hours, we arrived at our destination: sunny Orlando, Florida. We picked up our bags and took a bus to the world famous Walt Disney World Resort. It was getting close to sunset when we arrived at where we would be staying: The Disney All-Star Sports Resort:



We relaxed the rest of that first night, but looked forward to seeing all the sights over the next 6 days. Just like when I went to Disney World with my stepdad in '93 and '94, I utilized the "The Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World". It gave the best times of day to hit certain rides, the best rides to go on, the best places to eat, etc. It was quite helpful.

We went to all 4 Disney parks while there: the newly opened Animal Kingdom, Disney-MGM Studios, Epcot Center, and, of course, the Magic Kingdom. One of my favorite rides at the Kingdom is Splash Mountain. For pretty much all of our days down there, it was quite hot. High 80's, low 90's, maybe even warmer. Thankfully, some of the attractions were indoors. Each morning, we would go to the All-Star Resort's cafeteria for breakfast. Invariably, I would have two glazed donuts and some Powerade to drink.

One of my favorite parks was Disney-MGM. Why? Well, the 30-foot (life-size) Star Wars AT-AT is one of the coolest things I have ever seen:



the "Indiana Jones Stunt Spectacular" is bitchin', and the brand-new (at that time) Twilight Zone Tower of Terror was also rockin'.

On about our 3rd evening in Florida, we decided to go to Pleasure Island (no, it's not like that, you dirty devils). They have all sorts of cool things there like comedy and dance clubs as well as a gigantic Tower Records. We took one of the Disney buses there. Partway into the ride, my beloved said that she was feeling sick. Luckily, we arrived at our stop a couple minutes later. She got off the bus and immediately vomited on the ground.

She said she wanted to go back to the room and rest, that I should stay and hang out a bit since I was already at the Island. So she returned to home base while I looked around. Vince Gill's new CD had just come out, so I listened to parts of it at the record store. After a while, I grew bored and returned to the hotel. She wasn't in the room; could she be cheating on me already? I assumed that she had most likely gone to get medical treatment. A short time later, I received a call from my wife. She said that she was at the hospital in Celebration, Florida. It's called Celebration Health.

Cool name, innit? If you're deathly sick, they send you to Invigorating Intensive Care; if you're having an acute issue, they ship you to Ecstatic Emergency Care. The docs said she was very dehydrated, gave her an IV, and released her a short time later. She came back later that night.

After going to all 4 Disney parks, we set out to see Universal Studios (we had to rent a car to do so). That evening, after going to the park, we went to one of my all-time favorite restaurants, Steak & Shake. My stepdad had introduced me to it 4 years prior and I loved it. On the way there, though, we experienced a mighty bad thunderstorm. The lightning strikes a lot closer in Florida than up in Minnesota. My girl got mighty scared (this can easily be explained; she was a lightning rod in a past life).

I wound up sleeping just fine without the fan. On our last night in Florida, we went to a big souvenir store in Downtown Disney. We bought a couple shirts and my love bought herself a Mickey Mouse watch. All in all, we had a great honeymoon.

Too Much Skin

Why do people wear jeans that aren't flattering to their ass? I pride myself on wearing pants that show off what I got, but most guys wear their pants in such a way that it's virtually impossible to tell that they have a touchis; women are a bit better in this regard:



It's like, Have a little respect for yourself. Even if you're taken, there's nothing wrong with showing what you got.

Which brings me to chubby people wearing clothes that show off too much of their skin. I'm at a relatively healthy weight, but haven't worn tank tops since Chevy Chase was funny...just kidding, I think he's actually quite amusing on NBC's new show "Community". Clothes were designed for a reason: to obscure the body's largest organ and if you're packing more than 20% body fat, the more covered, the better.

If it's 80 degrees outside, I'm wearing a long-sleeve shirt because most all my day will be spent inside, either at work or during the weekend, at the movie theatre and a restaurant. I recently told a friend of mine that wearing a short-sleeve shirt to Friday's is just plain tacky. And don't even get me started on the fucks who wear flip flops everywhere they go. Sometimes I wish it was winter all year round.

Puppy Power

In the fall of 1998, my newly christened wife said she wanted to get a Saint Bernard. I, being of sound mind and body, was against it. She was unfazed. I said if she brought the pup home, I would divorce her. I guess she didn't believe me as she brought it home, anyway. Below is a bit that she taped of me that night.

The next day, she went to Petco to get supplies for the horse-to-be. The employee she spoke with said to think big, so my wife bought a huge water bowl as well as a gigantic crate. Check out 1:40 of this vid where a 5-pound Saint can be seen taking up about, oh, 5% of her crate.

An Engagement Pic Takes Me Back 16 Years

This past week, my beloved and I have been taking care of a friend's dachshunds. When they dropped the girls off, they also left us some newspapers to put down in case they had to eliminate when we were gone or sleeping. I've not been a subscriber of the local paper for a couple years, so took the opportunity to take a gander at what had been going on in my town of late. Turns out that most of the papers were from June of '08. Talk about sad times; W (or should I say Cheney) was in charge back then. This didn't stop me from perusing a bit while eating lunch a couple days ago.

The first thing I grabbed was the lifestyle section. In it could be found pics of couples who had plans to be married over the summer (to think, they're not even newlyweds any longer). I carefully looked at the last names and found one that I recognized: Stokes. There was only one person I've ever known that has that name; a guy by the name of Ted who was a social worker of sorts for me in 1993. Well, wouldn't you know it. It WAS him. Getting married in his late 30's was somewhat unconventional, but who am I to judge?

Back in '93, I was seeing a psychiatrist who monitored the meds I was taking, a psychologist who I relied on for therapy, and Ted. I forget what his official title was, but his job was to meet with me every couple of weeks and take me somewhere for an hour where we might chat (it differed from traditional therapy in that it was less formal and we actually went outside of the mental health building).

Many times I would opt to go to a fast food joint to have lunch. He didn't always order food for himself as many of his clients throughout the day chose to go to restaurants. It's good he didn't have a problem with people eating in front of him. I recall that he was a big fan of the band Live and Hootie and the Blowfish. It was great to socialize a bit with someone my age (though he was actually getting paid to do so).

One afternoon, I arrived at his office a bit early, so waited out in the hall. I looked up and saw that all of the counselors had their names listed in white letters on a black board (similar to the one pictured below):



I got a wicked idea as I looked at Ted's name. I adjusted a few letters so that his name was listed as "Ted Strokes". I chuckled as he called me in. I did this again a couple weeks later when I saw that his name had been put back to normal. A week after that, as I sat with him, I mentioned that I'd recently seen his name listed on the board as Ted Strokes. He laughed a bit and said that he was aware of the issue.

A few months later, I was well on the road to recovery and no longer needed his services, but seeing his pic sure brought back some memories and for that, I thank you, Master Strokes.

Kanye West Interrupts Obama's Speech