What are you remembered for? I start this entry with a question that has been rattling around in my mind the last few days as I reflected on an incident that took place on my flight out to Boston over Thanksgiving. We all make judgments constantly - it is a fact of life. I know I shouldn't be so judgmental and I just accept people for who they are, no matter what - but when faced with people who irritate the begeebers out of me, I am stuck. So, I am writing this story to you not so much as fodder or as judgment over others, but as a way of stressing how important it is as human beings to make a good impression or in some cases, no impression at all versus a bad impression - because honestly, a bad impression lasts. And lasts. And lasts.
Getting to my seat on the airplane, several things have my mind in a tizzy. Will I have a window seat? Exit row? Front or back? And of course, the big question is always: Who will I be sitting next to? So to my delight, it appeared as though I had struck a gold mine when I found 12D - Aisle seat, front of the plane, next to two women, younger and 'normal' looking who already had their books out. This immediately put me at ease. I'm not saying that all talking and conversation with your seat mate is bad, for I have had some very good experiences in the past - but in general, I prefer to not converse with strangers while flying. With their books already out, they implicitly communicated that they too, weren't interested in chatting it up. I thought I was home free to read, listen to music or just sit and think.
Or so I thought. As we taxied into take-off position, I began reading as did my seatmate to my right, the woman in the middle seat. She was "reading" and chewing on her fingernails. No biggie. But, she didn't stop biting her nails. Ever. My book was interesting, but not as interesting as this woman next to me, nervously gnawing on her fingers. I thought perhaps she'd quit after take-off. But no. Click, click, click - her mouth was constantly engulfed with her hands. Right hand, left hand, biting, looking, biting, chewing, biting... I can't stand it anymore!!!! I glanced over and noticed her nails were barely there at all - just nubs - what was she still biting?! I was helpless. I couldn't concentrate on my reading. She turned maybe three pages the entire flight. Not even the complimentary cookies and a beverage given out could stop her. Nothing would. I wanted to scream. I eventually had to put my book away and close my eyes and "sleep." I couldn't even stand to be close enough to sense her moving... it was all too much. I pleaded and bargained with God that she'd get off the plane at our stop in Milwaukee. Anybody but her I begged - a stinky person, a talker, a boundary breaker - anyone but her. I got my wish/prayer answered. I spotted her boarding pass and knew her reign of annoyance was over at Milwaukee. It was the longest 55 minute flight of my life. The only good to come of it was the line I thought of saying to her: "That book must be a real nailbiter, eh?" I didn't say it, but oh how it made me smile thinking about it.
In the end, this incident has me thinking about what it is that I do that might torment others sitting next to me on a flight, or on the bus or in class... the only thing that comes close is my knuckle cracking habit. My wife does her best to hold me accountable but I haven't seen the harm quite as much until now. Since that flight, I have really tried to stop. I haven't, in fact, while writing this I think I cracked them four or five times. I am determined to keep trying though. And no, I am not just saying this for brownie points. I really mean it - I want to stop this ridiculous habit for good - for my benefit as well as for my neighbors who will tell stories and blog about my own reign of torment upon their eyes and ears.
So, what are you remembered for when others cross your path? It could be nail biting or knuckle cracking, or maybe something else. Annoying habits aside, I know that we have an opportunity to be remembered for far more than just these in our interactions with one another. Smile, wave, head nod, say hello, be friendly, hold the door open, laugh, shake a hand - let's be nice to one another. It's the most wonderful time of the year, after all. Moral of the story? Keep your hands out of your mouth and give a little Christmas cheer to all - even those nailbiters like her and knuckle crackers like me. And if you need a motivator and reminder like I do, just ask yourself, how do I want to be remembered from this interaction?
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
From Favre to Facebook
Upon reflection of my previous post on the Brett Favre-Minnesota Vikings saga, I think I'm ready to confess that I was probably a tad too serious. In other words, I think I'm attempting to turn the following paragraphs into my official retraction. I mean, c'mon, its football we're talking about here. This isn't the health care debate or the war on terrorism, it's a game - an escape where people let themselves get sucked into the television or the Metrodome to cheer on a bunch of manly men wearing helmets and shoulder pads, inflicting punishment and tossing the pigskin to one another from week to week. On the one hand, I stand by my perceptions and feelings towards #4 and still feel a bit odd seeing him under center and fighting for the Purple and White rather than against them. I still wonder how I would feel if somehow, by some miracle they were to pull off a Superbowl victory with Favre, the former tormentor of the Vikings secondary and not feel a sense of defeat at the hands of the Packer faithful. I still hold a disdain for Purple Favre jersey wearers and yes, I still have a bit of pity for the Packer fans who feel they've been betrayed by their legend. However...
I still love the Vikings and LOVE that they are winning games and I realize that I have Mr. Favre to thank for much of this success. I still believe that this is Adrian's team and feel that there have been several other Vikings players that have contributed just as much, if not more than Brett has in their 5 victories (Harvin, Allen, Offensive Line etc) BUT, when Brett Favre made that throw to Greg Lewis in the back of the end zone as time expired against the 49ers? That won me over. Period. Sage or T-Jack could never have made that throw. Nor could many other NFL QB's - and that was when the ol' Mississippi gunslinger had me convinced that this was a GOOD thing for the Minnesota Vikings and their fans. Do I have fears and pessimistic thoughts that my heart is still going to end up broken by the end of the year? Absolutely. But, at this point - I've decided that I'm just gonna put it out of my mind and enjoy the ride for a change. The Vikes' offense is just heating up and they are fun to watch again - the confidence Favre brings to this team is contagious and I can say without shame that I'm on the bandwagon - Favre's legit. I say this also knowing that they are about to face their first real test against the Ravens D - but, win or lose, the team is different this year. I don't regret my prior skepticism, for those were authentic feelings at the time. But, my loyalty to the team won out - Go Vikes!
FACEBOOK
I also feel it is time to put all the Facebook "should I or shouldn't I?" debate out there to you fine readers. As you may or may not know, I am not a Facebooker. My non-participation in this phenomenon has caused many of the faithful Facebook followers to continually state: "You're not on Facebook?!?!?!" "You've got get Facebook" "You should really join y'know, it's so much better than Myspace..." From what little time I spent on my Myspace account, I know that this last statement is true. I still have the Myspace account, even though I never check it. It merely serves as photo storage at this point. As for my reasons behind not joining Facebook....where do I begin?
First of all, it's not that I am opposed to it morally or have some deeply held anger or suffering caused by it. I joined for about 48 hours when it was still relatively new to the public. This was when I worked at VCU with college students. I was weirded out by my students friending me and then being informed and subjected to updates and details of their personal lives - it was "too much information" overload and I quickly cancelled my membership. I know that you can change your filter or account settings in order to minimize that sort of stuff, but that first impression made a lasting impact on me. Since then its popularity has soared and like the personal cell-phone craze, Facebook is now a household name and a social networking MUST. So, with that said, here are some of my reasons for you to digest, scoff at, disagree with and/or better understand what is holding me back (other than my stubborn pride which simply doesn't want to concede the battle!)
1) Facebook either makes you too self-involved or too voyeuristic.
I get that Facebook is a snapshot of yourself for an online community/reality in which others like you, or friends, family and connections can "friend" you and therefore become a part of your web/real life in some way, shape or form. I also understand how great it is for establishing that network of relationships with whom you can interact with on a level not necessarily provided by face to face, interpersonal interactions. But I also feel that there is some strong temptation to put on a false persona of oneself, or to become too focused on what you want others to see you as which can get in the way of who you actually are. For some, this isn't a problem - they have no problems telling it like it is and putting their actual self out there for the world to accept or reject. During my time setting up the Myspace account, I found myself obsessed with "getting it right" and making sure that the "real Keith Long" was presented for all to see. It stressed me out and sucked up a lot of hours when I really should have been doing something else. If I wanted to wrestle with who I was and what I wanted "me" to look like to others, I probably would've been better served by sharing a deep conversation with someone or journaling. The other side of this reason is that I've noticed how infatuated some people become with other people's profiles, status changes, wall comments etc. I think its great to check in with others and to stay in touch with what's going on - but checking too frequently is just a bit too stalkerlike for my tastes and can have the affect of encouraging narcissistic/self-involved behaviors of the one being checked on. Too harsh? I don't know, just some thoughts I've entertained and I know what you're probably thinking: I think way too much about these things. It's true, I'm an analyzer all the way.
2) Too time consuming.
I think I heard that the average college student "facebooks" 4-6 hours a day. It might even be higher than that. Again, I think there is too much time spent doing "social networking" than there needs to be. Staying in touch with loved ones separated by long distances? Great - I'm all for it. Updating your status or mood every 10 minutes? Are you serious?! Anyways, I know everybody's electronic and computer mobility makes facebook "multi-task material," (unlike my college days where only 5 people owned laptops or cell phones) but "everything in moderation" definitely applies here. If I was a Facebooker, I would want to give it the time it deserves, no more, no less. The "no less" category is why I'm not a Facebooker. I can easily see myself getting sucked in and obsessed. I love what kind of capabilities things like Facebook have to offer, and my intense loyalty forces me to giving my best effort in new endeavors or things I'm passionate about - and I just don't think I am able to satisfy the time demands of Facebook which is needed in order to "do it right." I have a hard enough time giving this blog the attention I want to - and combined with my seminary portfolio work, I just don't see how Facebook will keep me mentally and emotionally grounded.
3) Random Friending Requests
My definition of "Friend" and Facebook's definition of friend are completely incompatible. I know it's possible to have 1000+ friends, but I find this unlikely. For me, to be a friend isn't taken lightly (see intense loyalty comment above.) I think there should be more classification - what's wrong with calling it like it is and telling someone, "you know, it was great re-connecting with you after all these years, but let's be honest - we're not exactly 'friends' are we?" Rude? Perhaps. But, I honestly just think we're kidding ourselves and making our heads bigger by secretly competing for 'who has the most friends' on Facebook. Plus, sometimes we simply don't want to be found by people, and next thing you know, random people are not only finding you but calling you their friend and moving into your basement... Suddenly you find yourself 'resenting thy neighbor' rather than loving them. Don't get me wrong, I think it's fun to track down long lost classmates and catch-up with one another. But then it kind of gets awkward and you don't know what you're supposed to do. Again, I know it's a great way to social network, and many people are using the system extremely well in building connections with one another, but I guess I get kind of annoyed and sensitive when I hear people treating their account like a 'look how popular I am' statement or becoming resentful for being found by people they weren't really wishing to be found by.
In conclusion, I know that Facebook is a great thing for many people. And I realize how useful and effective it is. There is a significant part of me that wants to be in on the fun, but I'm just not sold that it's the best thing for me right now or in the immediate future. Maybe I'll change my mind like I did with the Brett Favre-Vikings crisis (but that's primarily because Favre's own indecision tendencies wore off on me...haha) I do appreciate your comments and reasons for being on Facebook and many of you continue to give me moments of pause and ponder of why I'm still not on... But as for right now, it hasn't become a "gotta have it" item and I sense something newer and better is probably already coming any ways, so maybe my hold out will be justified in the long-term after all. Lord knows I already have way too many internet usernames and passwords floating out in cyberspace as it is!
I still love the Vikings and LOVE that they are winning games and I realize that I have Mr. Favre to thank for much of this success. I still believe that this is Adrian's team and feel that there have been several other Vikings players that have contributed just as much, if not more than Brett has in their 5 victories (Harvin, Allen, Offensive Line etc) BUT, when Brett Favre made that throw to Greg Lewis in the back of the end zone as time expired against the 49ers? That won me over. Period. Sage or T-Jack could never have made that throw. Nor could many other NFL QB's - and that was when the ol' Mississippi gunslinger had me convinced that this was a GOOD thing for the Minnesota Vikings and their fans. Do I have fears and pessimistic thoughts that my heart is still going to end up broken by the end of the year? Absolutely. But, at this point - I've decided that I'm just gonna put it out of my mind and enjoy the ride for a change. The Vikes' offense is just heating up and they are fun to watch again - the confidence Favre brings to this team is contagious and I can say without shame that I'm on the bandwagon - Favre's legit. I say this also knowing that they are about to face their first real test against the Ravens D - but, win or lose, the team is different this year. I don't regret my prior skepticism, for those were authentic feelings at the time. But, my loyalty to the team won out - Go Vikes!
I also feel it is time to put all the Facebook "should I or shouldn't I?" debate out there to you fine readers. As you may or may not know, I am not a Facebooker. My non-participation in this phenomenon has caused many of the faithful Facebook followers to continually state: "You're not on Facebook?!?!?!" "You've got get Facebook" "You should really join y'know, it's so much better than Myspace..." From what little time I spent on my Myspace account, I know that this last statement is true. I still have the Myspace account, even though I never check it. It merely serves as photo storage at this point. As for my reasons behind not joining Facebook....where do I begin?
First of all, it's not that I am opposed to it morally or have some deeply held anger or suffering caused by it. I joined for about 48 hours when it was still relatively new to the public. This was when I worked at VCU with college students. I was weirded out by my students friending me and then being informed and subjected to updates and details of their personal lives - it was "too much information" overload and I quickly cancelled my membership. I know that you can change your filter or account settings in order to minimize that sort of stuff, but that first impression made a lasting impact on me. Since then its popularity has soared and like the personal cell-phone craze, Facebook is now a household name and a social networking MUST. So, with that said, here are some of my reasons for you to digest, scoff at, disagree with and/or better understand what is holding me back (other than my stubborn pride which simply doesn't want to concede the battle!)
1) Facebook either makes you too self-involved or too voyeuristic.
I get that Facebook is a snapshot of yourself for an online community/reality in which others like you, or friends, family and connections can "friend" you and therefore become a part of your web/real life in some way, shape or form. I also understand how great it is for establishing that network of relationships with whom you can interact with on a level not necessarily provided by face to face, interpersonal interactions. But I also feel that there is some strong temptation to put on a false persona of oneself, or to become too focused on what you want others to see you as which can get in the way of who you actually are. For some, this isn't a problem - they have no problems telling it like it is and putting their actual self out there for the world to accept or reject. During my time setting up the Myspace account, I found myself obsessed with "getting it right" and making sure that the "real Keith Long" was presented for all to see. It stressed me out and sucked up a lot of hours when I really should have been doing something else. If I wanted to wrestle with who I was and what I wanted "me" to look like to others, I probably would've been better served by sharing a deep conversation with someone or journaling. The other side of this reason is that I've noticed how infatuated some people become with other people's profiles, status changes, wall comments etc. I think its great to check in with others and to stay in touch with what's going on - but checking too frequently is just a bit too stalkerlike for my tastes and can have the affect of encouraging narcissistic/self-involved behaviors of the one being checked on. Too harsh? I don't know, just some thoughts I've entertained and I know what you're probably thinking: I think way too much about these things. It's true, I'm an analyzer all the way.
2) Too time consuming.
I think I heard that the average college student "facebooks" 4-6 hours a day. It might even be higher than that. Again, I think there is too much time spent doing "social networking" than there needs to be. Staying in touch with loved ones separated by long distances? Great - I'm all for it. Updating your status or mood every 10 minutes? Are you serious?! Anyways, I know everybody's electronic and computer mobility makes facebook "multi-task material," (unlike my college days where only 5 people owned laptops or cell phones) but "everything in moderation" definitely applies here. If I was a Facebooker, I would want to give it the time it deserves, no more, no less. The "no less" category is why I'm not a Facebooker. I can easily see myself getting sucked in and obsessed. I love what kind of capabilities things like Facebook have to offer, and my intense loyalty forces me to giving my best effort in new endeavors or things I'm passionate about - and I just don't think I am able to satisfy the time demands of Facebook which is needed in order to "do it right." I have a hard enough time giving this blog the attention I want to - and combined with my seminary portfolio work, I just don't see how Facebook will keep me mentally and emotionally grounded.
3) Random Friending Requests
My definition of "Friend" and Facebook's definition of friend are completely incompatible. I know it's possible to have 1000+ friends, but I find this unlikely. For me, to be a friend isn't taken lightly (see intense loyalty comment above.) I think there should be more classification - what's wrong with calling it like it is and telling someone, "you know, it was great re-connecting with you after all these years, but let's be honest - we're not exactly 'friends' are we?" Rude? Perhaps. But, I honestly just think we're kidding ourselves and making our heads bigger by secretly competing for 'who has the most friends' on Facebook. Plus, sometimes we simply don't want to be found by people, and next thing you know, random people are not only finding you but calling you their friend and moving into your basement... Suddenly you find yourself 'resenting thy neighbor' rather than loving them. Don't get me wrong, I think it's fun to track down long lost classmates and catch-up with one another. But then it kind of gets awkward and you don't know what you're supposed to do. Again, I know it's a great way to social network, and many people are using the system extremely well in building connections with one another, but I guess I get kind of annoyed and sensitive when I hear people treating their account like a 'look how popular I am' statement or becoming resentful for being found by people they weren't really wishing to be found by.
In conclusion, I know that Facebook is a great thing for many people. And I realize how useful and effective it is. There is a significant part of me that wants to be in on the fun, but I'm just not sold that it's the best thing for me right now or in the immediate future. Maybe I'll change my mind like I did with the Brett Favre-Vikings crisis (but that's primarily because Favre's own indecision tendencies wore off on me...haha) I do appreciate your comments and reasons for being on Facebook and many of you continue to give me moments of pause and ponder of why I'm still not on... But as for right now, it hasn't become a "gotta have it" item and I sense something newer and better is probably already coming any ways, so maybe my hold out will be justified in the long-term after all. Lord knows I already have way too many internet usernames and passwords floating out in cyberspace as it is!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Conflicted
As a future Pastor, I know that there are much more important things to spend my time pondering and wrestling with than this Brett Favre stuff. I know that following a professional sports team is considered a recreational activity and really has no bearing on my life existence other than giving me an occasional high and frequent low emotional feeling - and that, as much as I love being a fan, I have no real significance when it comes to how my team performs on a daily, weekly or yearly basis. So, with all that said, I really need to vent my frustration and angst over this Favre crisis that has emerged over the last couple months here in Minnesota.
Many of you know that I consider myself a Minnesota Vikings fan and a Green Bay Packers hater. This rivalry goes back as far as I can remember and has just always been a given come football season: cheer for the boys in purple and white and jeer at the boys in green and yellow. Competition between these two teams is always fierce and over the course of a particular 16 year span, much the Vikings fans' anger, smack talk and general disdain was toward a certain quarterback by the name of Brett Favre. It took me years of inner reflection and courage in order to acknowledge my respect for #4 as a football player, as my intense loyalty towards the Vikes kept those feelings at bay. However, with time I grew to appreciate Favre's enthusiasm and grit for the game of football, even though he played for the dreaded Packer Nation of Green Bay, Wisconsin. It was this respect that made beating the Packers that much more special.
And now? Ugh. In a word, I am conflicted. Conflicted beyond all belief. This fiasco has brought many ill feelings about the National Football League to the surface as I struggle to come to grips with what this means for me as a Vikings and NFL fan. I simply cannot shake it off for the sake of achieving a long-awaited championship title. Brett Favre signing with the Vikings has been much more vexing on my conscience than I care to admit and I refuse to join the bandwagon. Whereas many supporters of his courtship and eventual landing seem to have forgotten or disconnected from those 16 years of rivalry against #4, I have not. I don't know if this is just a case of unhealthy loyalty, stubborn refusal of acceptance or inability to forget those many games where he flat out broke my purple and white heart - but I am one Minnesota Vikings fan who is not on board with Favre Fevre.
It does not help the cause whatsoever that this has been such a drawn all drama capturing the headlines during the offseason for the past three years - the tearful goodbye, return #1 and the constant will he or won't he over and over and over again. I was jubilant when he said he was staying retired at the end of July. I was downright disgusted when he was suddenly signed and at practice a few weeks later. I have avoided the sports page for the last couple weeks, not wanting to even glimpse him on the cover being gushed over by the same writers and so-called Vikings fans who detested the man only a few years ago. I remember a few years ago when Randy Moss was a free agent and Favre made it known he wanted the Packers to sign him. I thought that if that had happened I would've felt betrayed as a Vikings fan and he was a Viking for only 7 years and was at the time an Oakland Raider! Now, compare that to Favre's 16 year career with a division rival. It's not right. Despite the falling out that occured with his retirement and the obvious failures between both parties over his un-retirement and release - all Favre has done over the last few years is tarnish his integrity and feed his ego - which has led me to sink to a new low...feeling sorry for the Packers fans! Ugh - this is simply a lose-lose situation every which way.
I keep hearing Vikings country say: "Seeing him as a Viking just doesn't feel right....but it'll feel right when we win a Superbowl." I couldn't disagree more. In fact, if it doesn't feel right now, it'll only feel worse if they won a Superbowl. A Packer being the missing piece to a Viking championship?! Blasphemy! I don't know - to me, I just feel like the sports purist in me can't overlook or separate someone like Favre as just an athlete. The selfish, entitled and egotistical human being that has come to light over the last few years overshadows anything special he'll do on the football field this year. I realize that the NFL and just about any professional sports league is a business and all about the $$ - but this just pushes me over the edge. I want to follow and cheer for the Vikings - it's been an integral part of my life for so long - but I don't know how I will be able to do that with #4 under center given all the greed, desperation and disloyalty (on his part and the Vikings organization) he represents. I know watching them this year would provide a higher likelihood of entertainment & enjoyment given last year's QB debacle between T-Jack and Old Man Ferrotte, and Lord knows I love seeing Adrian Peterson tear through the opposing defenders and Jared Allen's QB Sack total rise each week...but actually cheering for Favre when all that within me feels betrayed by such an act? I don't think I'm able. I'm an underdog at heart so I think I was slightly better off hoping Rosenfels, T-Jack or Booty would get a shot at leading the purple and white to glory - letting them earn their stripes and relying on the team to pull each other along. Putting all my Superbowl aspirations in the hands of a retired Green Bay Packer with a banged up arm is not the answer and confidence I need for this Minnesotan fan. Instead, I think I'll just see what the Golden Gopher football team is up to this year.
Go Twins!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Check-Up Time
Yesterday I had my first physical examination since 2003 when I was a young, hip newlywed at the age of 23. I decided, hey - maybe I better get another one of those since I just entered the still young, but no longer cool phase of the 30's... Seven years in between routine physicals made me totally forget how silly and humorous this exam is to me. And I had a few new things checked this time, much to my uncomfortable amusement.
The week leading up to the exam I felt the need to really kick it into gear so that I could feel my absolute best going into the appointment. I half-way met this goal. Whereas I started running again and hitting the gym more frequently than the previous 3 months, I still was tipping the scales a bit past my target range. For some reason, I really wanted to nail that impending weigh-in at the doctors office. Alas, the weigh-in was a disappointment, but it could've been much worse had this appointment been over the winter months.
The nurse checks my blood pressure and gives me the rundown of how my doctors visit will go. I am impressed at how quickly I got to the examination cubical, I say. She says, "oh, the doctor likes to stay on time, he's big on that." So, I know my doctor is an organized and responsible man - excellent. Then this bombshell, "You don't have to undress and get into the gown yet. The doctor will come in, get to know you a little and then leave the room for you to undress." So, he likes to wine and dine me a bit before getting down to the nitty gritty, eh? I can't help but make myself chuckle. I mean, what a weird ritual this is - undressing. A dude like me just isn't used to hearing that said to him. The doc comes in, we chat about my health a bit, and then bam - he exits and the stripper music starts and I get naked. Well, almost - he's a "leave your underpants and socks on" kind of guy, so I comply.
The Gown: This is not a gown. It's a half sheet with shoe laces. No instructions - you're just supposed to know that you put this thing on backward and suddenly you're ready to be examined. I laugh thinking of all those jokesters and probably international students and foreigners who most likely put it on with the open side in front. I also ask what the point of putting it on at all really is - it's just going to get pulled down and up anyway, and it's not like its protecting you or keeping you warm.
Take a few deep breaths. Open wide. Now drop your pants. Here we go! Again, I think I'd just be better off without that gown. I have to pull up and pull down in order for the doc to check under the hood. As if this isn't already a tad uncomfortable. Then I get to do my best Three Amigos imitation and turn my head and cough. I still don't know why we do this. I think to myself to ask sometime. Just not today. And just like that, we're done. Or so I thought.
Next thing I know, I'm looking down at my doc looking back at me with his gloved hands. My smile fades. "Have you had a rectal exam before?" I scream inside. "No," I manage to eek out. "It's not so bad, just need to check your prostate." I'm instructed to bend over and place my elbows on the bench. I brace for the worst. Oh my gosh, I can't even write this without laughing. It didn't last very long, but holy cow - that is definitely the most awkward and weird and - ugh - I'm not even going to attempt a description. I just know that I almost yelped audibly. Then leaves the room again. I almost started laughing as I relfected on what just happened. Then this really odd and hilarious memory popped into my head - well, two actually. The first was that scene from the movie "Road Trip." Guys, you know the one. The second was of my friend Scotty Moore from my college days. He told me of this time when he had to go to student health services for his physical exam before his upcoming trip to Brazil. He recounted what happened when he received the gloved finger rectal exam. He screamed and was yelling all over the place - I just couldn't stop laughing then or now. The funniest moment for him was leaving and seeing all the people in the waiting room and wondering what they must have been thinking during his little "episode." So, if you're reading this Scotty - thanks for the laugh, again.
The fun wasn't entirely over after that. I had to have some compacted ear wax removed from one of my ear drums. This is another doozy of a procedure folks. Warm water is shot into your ear to loosen it up. I don't know how many giant syringes worth of water she blasted in there, but it was a lot. She wasn't sure if it was gonna come out. Then, she grabs a little tool and goes in and retrieves it. I kid you not, she pulled out a tiny, tip of my pinky sized ball of wax! My eyes bugged out and I yelled. Then my little eardrum clogger was gone and I was free to start hearing things clearly again. I'm not gonna lie, I totally wanted to keep that wax and bring it home to show Rebecca - see, I really couldn't hear you all these years!!
When it was all said and done, I received a clean bill of health. Ah, the joys of the doctor's office.
The week leading up to the exam I felt the need to really kick it into gear so that I could feel my absolute best going into the appointment. I half-way met this goal. Whereas I started running again and hitting the gym more frequently than the previous 3 months, I still was tipping the scales a bit past my target range. For some reason, I really wanted to nail that impending weigh-in at the doctors office. Alas, the weigh-in was a disappointment, but it could've been much worse had this appointment been over the winter months.
The nurse checks my blood pressure and gives me the rundown of how my doctors visit will go. I am impressed at how quickly I got to the examination cubical, I say. She says, "oh, the doctor likes to stay on time, he's big on that." So, I know my doctor is an organized and responsible man - excellent. Then this bombshell, "You don't have to undress and get into the gown yet. The doctor will come in, get to know you a little and then leave the room for you to undress." So, he likes to wine and dine me a bit before getting down to the nitty gritty, eh? I can't help but make myself chuckle. I mean, what a weird ritual this is - undressing. A dude like me just isn't used to hearing that said to him. The doc comes in, we chat about my health a bit, and then bam - he exits and the stripper music starts and I get naked. Well, almost - he's a "leave your underpants and socks on" kind of guy, so I comply.
The Gown: This is not a gown. It's a half sheet with shoe laces. No instructions - you're just supposed to know that you put this thing on backward and suddenly you're ready to be examined. I laugh thinking of all those jokesters and probably international students and foreigners who most likely put it on with the open side in front. I also ask what the point of putting it on at all really is - it's just going to get pulled down and up anyway, and it's not like its protecting you or keeping you warm.
Take a few deep breaths. Open wide. Now drop your pants. Here we go! Again, I think I'd just be better off without that gown. I have to pull up and pull down in order for the doc to check under the hood. As if this isn't already a tad uncomfortable. Then I get to do my best Three Amigos imitation and turn my head and cough. I still don't know why we do this. I think to myself to ask sometime. Just not today. And just like that, we're done. Or so I thought.
Next thing I know, I'm looking down at my doc looking back at me with his gloved hands. My smile fades. "Have you had a rectal exam before?" I scream inside. "No," I manage to eek out. "It's not so bad, just need to check your prostate." I'm instructed to bend over and place my elbows on the bench. I brace for the worst. Oh my gosh, I can't even write this without laughing. It didn't last very long, but holy cow - that is definitely the most awkward and weird and - ugh - I'm not even going to attempt a description. I just know that I almost yelped audibly. Then leaves the room again. I almost started laughing as I relfected on what just happened. Then this really odd and hilarious memory popped into my head - well, two actually. The first was that scene from the movie "Road Trip." Guys, you know the one. The second was of my friend Scotty Moore from my college days. He told me of this time when he had to go to student health services for his physical exam before his upcoming trip to Brazil. He recounted what happened when he received the gloved finger rectal exam. He screamed and was yelling all over the place - I just couldn't stop laughing then or now. The funniest moment for him was leaving and seeing all the people in the waiting room and wondering what they must have been thinking during his little "episode." So, if you're reading this Scotty - thanks for the laugh, again.
The fun wasn't entirely over after that. I had to have some compacted ear wax removed from one of my ear drums. This is another doozy of a procedure folks. Warm water is shot into your ear to loosen it up. I don't know how many giant syringes worth of water she blasted in there, but it was a lot. She wasn't sure if it was gonna come out. Then, she grabs a little tool and goes in and retrieves it. I kid you not, she pulled out a tiny, tip of my pinky sized ball of wax! My eyes bugged out and I yelled. Then my little eardrum clogger was gone and I was free to start hearing things clearly again. I'm not gonna lie, I totally wanted to keep that wax and bring it home to show Rebecca - see, I really couldn't hear you all these years!!
When it was all said and done, I received a clean bill of health. Ah, the joys of the doctor's office.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Thank You!
Hello faithful friends and blog followers! As a token of my sincere thanks to all of you who've supported and encouraged me over the years as a friend, a loved one and a reader of this blog, I'd like to extend a big thanks. The following video was created and entered into a video contest here at Luther Seminary as a way to creatively thank all of the seminary's generous donors and supporters who make it possible for students to attend (through financial donations as well as prayers and emotional support.) My motivations for submitting this were twofold: 1) to thank all supporters and donors who help put me through seminary and 2) to win the contest...what can I say, I am competitive to the glory of God! So, sit back and prepare to get thanked....
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
A Day in the Life of Love
"And now faith, hope and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends." -1 Corinthians 13:13, 4-8a
Love is stuck in traffic. Nearing Love's destination, the light turns yellow. As the traffic around Love speeds up, Love slows down. Love abides.
On the way in, Love is behind a person who is walking very slowly. Love looks at the time and only has a few minutes to spare. Love quickly moves ahead. Love opens the door and waits. The person slowly inches closer to the door. Love is patient.
An unfamiliar face walks by Love, looking confused and nervous. The stranger stops and looks around. Other people give the stranger weird looks. Some even laugh at the stranger. Love walks up to the stranger and says hello. Love is kind.
An acquaintance shares that they received an award for their work on a recent project. Love smiles and gives congratulations. Love is not envious. Later, Love receives an award as well. Love is happy, but tells no one about it. Love is not boastful. Love is a hard worker. Love tries to give 100% at everything. Love accepts failure and success as they come. Love doesn't brag. Love is not arrogant.
While waiting in a long line, someone joins by stepping in front of Love. Love politely asks them to join at the end of the line and the person scorns Love. Love respectfully tries again, but is met again with insult. Love lets it go. Love is not rude. Love does not insist on its own way. More people wrongly enter the line, forcing Love to wait longer and longer. Love forgives. Love is not irritable or resentful.
At lunch, Love makes a purchase. Walking away, Love realizes too much change was given back, leaving Love with more money than before the purchase. Love walks back and returns the money given by mistake. Love turns a few heads, some saying that they would have rejoiced in the mistake and easily taken the profit from the purchase. Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in truth.
Life is difficult. Bad things happen. Our beliefs are tested and shaken. Things look hopeless at times. We make mistakes. We're challenged. We grieve and mourn. We get hurt. We get angry. We're persecuted, hated, made fun of, embarrassed, betrayed, left out, ignored and shunned.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
All things are temporary. Love never ends.
Love is stuck in traffic. Nearing Love's destination, the light turns yellow. As the traffic around Love speeds up, Love slows down. Love abides.
On the way in, Love is behind a person who is walking very slowly. Love looks at the time and only has a few minutes to spare. Love quickly moves ahead. Love opens the door and waits. The person slowly inches closer to the door. Love is patient.
An unfamiliar face walks by Love, looking confused and nervous. The stranger stops and looks around. Other people give the stranger weird looks. Some even laugh at the stranger. Love walks up to the stranger and says hello. Love is kind.
An acquaintance shares that they received an award for their work on a recent project. Love smiles and gives congratulations. Love is not envious. Later, Love receives an award as well. Love is happy, but tells no one about it. Love is not boastful. Love is a hard worker. Love tries to give 100% at everything. Love accepts failure and success as they come. Love doesn't brag. Love is not arrogant.
While waiting in a long line, someone joins by stepping in front of Love. Love politely asks them to join at the end of the line and the person scorns Love. Love respectfully tries again, but is met again with insult. Love lets it go. Love is not rude. Love does not insist on its own way. More people wrongly enter the line, forcing Love to wait longer and longer. Love forgives. Love is not irritable or resentful.
At lunch, Love makes a purchase. Walking away, Love realizes too much change was given back, leaving Love with more money than before the purchase. Love walks back and returns the money given by mistake. Love turns a few heads, some saying that they would have rejoiced in the mistake and easily taken the profit from the purchase. Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in truth.
Life is difficult. Bad things happen. Our beliefs are tested and shaken. Things look hopeless at times. We make mistakes. We're challenged. We grieve and mourn. We get hurt. We get angry. We're persecuted, hated, made fun of, embarrassed, betrayed, left out, ignored and shunned.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
All things are temporary. Love never ends.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thirty and Still Smooth
It has been over a month since my last post. I am once again getting one in just before the beginning of another month. I had thought that I would have written more as I just turned 30 on Feb. 1st and had plenty of 30-something musings going on - but my sickness on day 2 of 30 derailed those motivations as I fought off a viral infection. Then, with my wisdom teeth being removed a week later, I had zero energy, time or motivation to write. There are my excuses.
So, when I began pondering what to write about this time, my wife subtly suggested that I do something different. When I asked what she meant by that, she said, "I want to read a story. You've written enough perspective pieces and thought-provoking stuff lately - I want to read something funny - like a story..." The pressure was on. I had to come up with something original and out of the box - something made-up or an Ireland story of some kind (she claims that I never wrote about Ireland, which is false - I wrote twice about Ireland - obviously not very memorable entries for her...) Anywho, this suggestion of hers was a solid week or two ago and I could not for the life of me come up with anything that fit the bill. The fact is, my life at seminary is quite story-less, no interesting bus characters or weird city interactions to let my imagination run with. No, my days are spent in class or studying - or at church, which, sadly, I do not have any weirdo's around to write about. Yesterday however, a spark came to me while lacing up my shoes for an intramural basketball game. This oddity was pointed out a month or so ago and it was upon catching another glimpse of it that the wheels for a story began spinning. So, it is now that I turn to my silly, out of the box, made-up (but based on a true situation) story. This one's for you Rebecca.
Mysterious indeed, the case of the missing leg hair had the Brain working overtime in between all of its other tasks. After their conversation it seemed the rest of the body was constantly talking about it and had a theory of their own. The eyes felt almost as bad as the Legs - they couldn't remember the last time they looked and felt like it was their fault for not noticing sooner. The butt got into the mix too, cracking jokes and teasing the Legs constantly. Yes, the body was in chaos trying to locate where all that hair vanished to. Brain sent a team of investigators to the scene who reported that both the outer sides of the lower legs were almost completely smooth with no hair follicles present of growing. Hair was everywhere else except in those locations. Brain analyzed sleeping positions and clothing choices, weather patterns and activity logs and continued coming up empty. Everything the Brain suggested or theorized just did not add up to a logical explanation. The Legs felt more and more anxious and upset - they felt that they were somehow less masculine and strong. They felt like they had done something wrong and the hair decided to send a message by skipping town in the middle of the night. Time was of the essence and Brain was not getting any closer to solving the case.
"I don't know Legs, I think we might have to chalk this one up as unsolved," Brain concluded. "Unsolved?! No, that is unacceptable. What will I tell the other Legs when they ask?" Legs countered. "Just tell them the truth and that they better watch out themselves... Look, I'm just as embarrassed as you are. I've tried everything. Just be thankful that Head isn't complaining and we're still full where it counts. I haven't heard any other reports anywhere else, including the Private Pubic Sector, so we should just count our blessings at this point. The only time you've got to worry about this is the warm season - and that time frame is less than 4 months out of the year in this climate. I think it's best we just look at the positives of this sudden disappearance and see if we can't find ways to use your smoothness for good. Think of the speed we'll make up for in the pool!" Brain said enthusiastically. "Yeah, I suppose. I just feel like we need closure, you know, we never got to say good bye," added Legs. "I suppose you're right though, it's not a huge deal. But something makes me kind of suspicious of the Face - I just wonder if Face isn't somehow responsible - I mean, isn't it kind of odd how all of a sudden, Face is basking in hairiness up there - after years of being smooth and hairless?" Legs added accusingly. "Now, now, just leave Face out of it. He's just going through a phase too y'know. Face has had it much tougher than you have Legs, and you know it. Face it, you haven't even begun to experience ridicule like Face has - we finally look like our age after all," Brain added defensively." "Well, we do until someone catches a glimpse of us down here," Legs quipped sarcastically. "You may have a point there Legs. Maybe I better go and have a chat with Face," Brain replied jokingly. "Oh, and Brain?" Legs asked. "Yeah Legs?" Brain replied. "Can you also tell the woman Legs to leave us alone too?" Legs asked sheepishly. Brain laughed. "Sure Legs, I'll see what I can do."
So, when I began pondering what to write about this time, my wife subtly suggested that I do something different. When I asked what she meant by that, she said, "I want to read a story. You've written enough perspective pieces and thought-provoking stuff lately - I want to read something funny - like a story..." The pressure was on. I had to come up with something original and out of the box - something made-up or an Ireland story of some kind (she claims that I never wrote about Ireland, which is false - I wrote twice about Ireland - obviously not very memorable entries for her...) Anywho, this suggestion of hers was a solid week or two ago and I could not for the life of me come up with anything that fit the bill. The fact is, my life at seminary is quite story-less, no interesting bus characters or weird city interactions to let my imagination run with. No, my days are spent in class or studying - or at church, which, sadly, I do not have any weirdo's around to write about. Yesterday however, a spark came to me while lacing up my shoes for an intramural basketball game. This oddity was pointed out a month or so ago and it was upon catching another glimpse of it that the wheels for a story began spinning. So, it is now that I turn to my silly, out of the box, made-up (but based on a true situation) story. This one's for you Rebecca.
Smooth Get-Away
"Brain, I've got a problem I need you to investigate for us," said the Legs. "What is the issue Legs?" "It's kind of embarrassing. Um...we...well..." The Legs hesitated. "Go ahead, I've heard it all - what's going on? I can't help you if you can't tell me what's wrong," Brain encouraged. "Well, the other day, we were having a conversation with the eyes and something came up that shocked all of us. The eyes discovered that something was terribly wrong with us," Legs described. "I don't know when - or how - but....argh, I don't know if I can say this." "Go on - out with it! What is it? I've got other things to do you know. We still haven't figured out this windshield wiper fluid problem and Lord knows we've got reading to do. What is going on?!" Brain was getting frustrated. "Ok, here goes. Our hair is missing," Legs whispered. "Your what is missing?!" Blurted the Brain. "Our hair, on the lower part of us - is gone. Without a trace. It's just...missing. We're...we're...smooth down here," Legs admitted ashamedly. "Really? Huh. Interesting indeed. When is the last time you saw them, you know, the hair that is?" Brain inquired. "I don't know, the summer maybe?" Legs answered. "Alright Legs, I'll get the word out and start looking into it for you. I'm sorry, hopefully they'll turn up soon," Brain answered consolingly. "We sure hope so, it's so embarrassing - the woman legs are starting to get jealous of us whenever we're around them," Legs added. Mysterious indeed, the case of the missing leg hair had the Brain working overtime in between all of its other tasks. After their conversation it seemed the rest of the body was constantly talking about it and had a theory of their own. The eyes felt almost as bad as the Legs - they couldn't remember the last time they looked and felt like it was their fault for not noticing sooner. The butt got into the mix too, cracking jokes and teasing the Legs constantly. Yes, the body was in chaos trying to locate where all that hair vanished to. Brain sent a team of investigators to the scene who reported that both the outer sides of the lower legs were almost completely smooth with no hair follicles present of growing. Hair was everywhere else except in those locations. Brain analyzed sleeping positions and clothing choices, weather patterns and activity logs and continued coming up empty. Everything the Brain suggested or theorized just did not add up to a logical explanation. The Legs felt more and more anxious and upset - they felt that they were somehow less masculine and strong. They felt like they had done something wrong and the hair decided to send a message by skipping town in the middle of the night. Time was of the essence and Brain was not getting any closer to solving the case.
"I don't know Legs, I think we might have to chalk this one up as unsolved," Brain concluded. "Unsolved?! No, that is unacceptable. What will I tell the other Legs when they ask?" Legs countered. "Just tell them the truth and that they better watch out themselves... Look, I'm just as embarrassed as you are. I've tried everything. Just be thankful that Head isn't complaining and we're still full where it counts. I haven't heard any other reports anywhere else, including the Private Pubic Sector, so we should just count our blessings at this point. The only time you've got to worry about this is the warm season - and that time frame is less than 4 months out of the year in this climate. I think it's best we just look at the positives of this sudden disappearance and see if we can't find ways to use your smoothness for good. Think of the speed we'll make up for in the pool!" Brain said enthusiastically. "Yeah, I suppose. I just feel like we need closure, you know, we never got to say good bye," added Legs. "I suppose you're right though, it's not a huge deal. But something makes me kind of suspicious of the Face - I just wonder if Face isn't somehow responsible - I mean, isn't it kind of odd how all of a sudden, Face is basking in hairiness up there - after years of being smooth and hairless?" Legs added accusingly. "Now, now, just leave Face out of it. He's just going through a phase too y'know. Face has had it much tougher than you have Legs, and you know it. Face it, you haven't even begun to experience ridicule like Face has - we finally look like our age after all," Brain added defensively." "Well, we do until someone catches a glimpse of us down here," Legs quipped sarcastically. "You may have a point there Legs. Maybe I better go and have a chat with Face," Brain replied jokingly. "Oh, and Brain?" Legs asked. "Yeah Legs?" Brain replied. "Can you also tell the woman Legs to leave us alone too?" Legs asked sheepishly. Brain laughed. "Sure Legs, I'll see what I can do."
The End
Friday, January 16, 2009
Driving Blind
As if living in Minnesota wasn't hard enough with the consistent days of below zero temps - now we have another challenge: driving blind. That's right, a new frustration has gripped me this first "real" winter in 5 plus years - the experience of driving in utter blindness as the frigid temperatures freeze the windshield fluid. Yes, the saying is true, "you don't know what you've got till its gone." I admit, I took that blue fluid for granted all these years - and now, driving in sub-zero temps, I realize what a total annoyance this ridiculous weather really is when I can't see two feet in front of me because my windshield is filthy.
I used to think I was a pretty unflappable and even tempered driver - sure I've had my moments of tension and anger when cut off or tail-gated - but on the whole, I'm usually pretty calm when behind the wheel (unless driving in Washington DC) - but other than that, I can hang with the best of them. However, that was then and this is now: without a doubt, my new arch-enemy that is sure to get the better of my temperament is this new problem of frozen fluids for the windshield.
I know that the fluid itself is not frozen, but somewhere from the tank to the windshield, there is some blockage occurring because when I request the services of the fluid to cover my dirty windshield, I get nothin'. I hit the button for fluid and instead of receiving a shower of spray I just get fervent wiping of nothing but the dirt and mud encrusted window - thereby making vision impossible. Couple this with bright sunshine in my face and I am literally driving blind. There is no difference between me and a blind person behind the wheel. I begin to freak out and squirm, trying to find that one tiny shred of clarity on the glass, usually to no avail. This is absolutely terrifying. To make matters even worse, I am on the freeway, so pulling over to assess the situation or pour some water on it is just as dangerous - I just have to buckle down, rely on faith and if I'm fortunate to be with someone at the time, trust their muddied vision as well as four eyes are better than two. So, as you can expect, I do not like driving blind. In fact - I dread getting in the car altogether now.
I've really been struggling to find the silver lining in this ongoing predicament. The only analogy I seem to come to time and time again is that of "living by faith, not by sight." (2nd Corinthians 5:7) Participating in a controlled blindfolded trust walk is one way to demonstrate the sheer blindness we encounter in faith - but driving blind?! In a car? Where one mistake could end it all? Yeah, I think I'll take the trust walk in the woods any day. But, I guess this just goes to show that whether we like it or not, sometimes all we can do in the end is pray to the Lord above that despite our gripping fears and justifiable anxiety about some dangers and risks, God is with us, guiding and protecting. But, somehow and some way, I'm always given just enough moisture or passenger assistance and coaching (thank you Rebecca) to clear a path of clean windshield, and I am able to get to where I'm going. And, God forbid something does go awry, I have to trust in God's comfort that He'll be with me then too.
Well, its back to the roads of life, driving blind and all. Perhaps I'm just the rookie Minnesotan here - so, if you're reading this and wondering aloud why I haven't done the obvious to alleviate this dilemma - PLEASE HELP ME. I am no stranger to asking for car maintenance assistance as many of you already know. This issue is at the top of the list - I'll take whatever advice I can get at this point. There is still a whole lotta winter left.
While I'm on the topic of driving, there is one more thing I'd like to include in this post. Remember my desire to learn how to drive a stick-shift? Done and done. I wouldn't say I'm an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I think my first lesson was a huge success - thank you Borna Albus! Let's just say that if you need a pinch hitter to take you home in your manual transmission automobile, you can count on me. My only stipulation is that your windshield wiper fluid works!
I used to think I was a pretty unflappable and even tempered driver - sure I've had my moments of tension and anger when cut off or tail-gated - but on the whole, I'm usually pretty calm when behind the wheel (unless driving in Washington DC) - but other than that, I can hang with the best of them. However, that was then and this is now: without a doubt, my new arch-enemy that is sure to get the better of my temperament is this new problem of frozen fluids for the windshield.
I know that the fluid itself is not frozen, but somewhere from the tank to the windshield, there is some blockage occurring because when I request the services of the fluid to cover my dirty windshield, I get nothin'. I hit the button for fluid and instead of receiving a shower of spray I just get fervent wiping of nothing but the dirt and mud encrusted window - thereby making vision impossible. Couple this with bright sunshine in my face and I am literally driving blind. There is no difference between me and a blind person behind the wheel. I begin to freak out and squirm, trying to find that one tiny shred of clarity on the glass, usually to no avail. This is absolutely terrifying. To make matters even worse, I am on the freeway, so pulling over to assess the situation or pour some water on it is just as dangerous - I just have to buckle down, rely on faith and if I'm fortunate to be with someone at the time, trust their muddied vision as well as four eyes are better than two. So, as you can expect, I do not like driving blind. In fact - I dread getting in the car altogether now.
I've really been struggling to find the silver lining in this ongoing predicament. The only analogy I seem to come to time and time again is that of "living by faith, not by sight." (2nd Corinthians 5:7) Participating in a controlled blindfolded trust walk is one way to demonstrate the sheer blindness we encounter in faith - but driving blind?! In a car? Where one mistake could end it all? Yeah, I think I'll take the trust walk in the woods any day. But, I guess this just goes to show that whether we like it or not, sometimes all we can do in the end is pray to the Lord above that despite our gripping fears and justifiable anxiety about some dangers and risks, God is with us, guiding and protecting. But, somehow and some way, I'm always given just enough moisture or passenger assistance and coaching (thank you Rebecca) to clear a path of clean windshield, and I am able to get to where I'm going. And, God forbid something does go awry, I have to trust in God's comfort that He'll be with me then too.
Well, its back to the roads of life, driving blind and all. Perhaps I'm just the rookie Minnesotan here - so, if you're reading this and wondering aloud why I haven't done the obvious to alleviate this dilemma - PLEASE HELP ME. I am no stranger to asking for car maintenance assistance as many of you already know. This issue is at the top of the list - I'll take whatever advice I can get at this point. There is still a whole lotta winter left.
While I'm on the topic of driving, there is one more thing I'd like to include in this post. Remember my desire to learn how to drive a stick-shift? Done and done. I wouldn't say I'm an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I think my first lesson was a huge success - thank you Borna Albus! Let's just say that if you need a pinch hitter to take you home in your manual transmission automobile, you can count on me. My only stipulation is that your windshield wiper fluid works!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Skating in the New Year
I have ushered in the New Year in new fashion - by doing some new things (not technically firsts, but the first time in a long time anyway.) What, after all, says "New Year" like doing something different - something new and outside of the norm in the first hours and days of this clean slate that is 2009?
Saying good-bye to our New Years Eve tradition with our Richmond, VA friends was unusual, if not a little awkward - how will we adjust to a new state and climate? How can "the show go on" without our dear friends at our side to celebrate the arrival of the new year? Alas, we had to move on to something different, for there is just no replacing traditions and special friends, is there? So, for our first New Year's Eve in St. Paul, Minnesota - our first New Years Eve here in several years, we took to the most ubiquitous surface in this part of the country during this time of the year - the ice - for some ice skating. It should be noted that the idea was not our own, nor was it an idea I was most thrilled about because A) it is still REALLY cold here and B) I've only been on ice skates twice in my lifetime. Don't get me wrong, I was all about trying something new and different, and ice skating was on my list of "to-do's" from a blog post from last year - but I was not feelin' the ice skate donning in 3-5 degree temps. The other part of me, the 29 years and 11 months part, was kind of yearning for some chillaxing - you know, hangin' out in the comfort and coziness of home, maybe curling up with a book or movie with my wife, avoiding the public interaction and nightlife. However, being that I more than got my fill of chillaxing over the previous two weeks 0f my winter break from classes, I also knew that there was a hidden yearning for the fun and adventurous - as New Years Eve has traditionally been just the right event for bringin' out the wild n' crazy in yours truly.
After whining, complaining and searching for every excuse to back out of our ice-capade plans for the evening, the time finally had arrived and there was no jumping ship - no, I was going ice skating - no if's and's or but's. I was nervous and anxious about ice skating because I had only been on skates twice before - and in those two brief occasions, I had never actually learned how to skate - it had been more or less just a walk around the ice rink - wearing skates. Sure, I remember getting my jollies on a few slides here and there, but there was much more falling and holding onto people and walls for dear life. Back then my mantra was "I can't do this" - and alas, I never did and hadn't tried again since. But now, I was joining three other established skaters who assured me they would assist in my teaching and give me a generous learning curve - they also said this with a snicker and a giggle for they knew what I'd probably look like on the ice being the novice that I was. All in good fun I said to myself, even though the thought of face-planting on the ice in front of dozens of people sent a little chill up my spine.
Like most things I've dreaded in my life, it turned out to be much easier than I built it up to be. Taking one thing at a time, I got the hang of it much better than I thought I would. There was little, if any, falling in the first thirty minutes. I watched my wife as she scooted around the ice - picking up a few techniques here and there. I felt and looked awkward no doubt, but I wasn't terrible - I could move forward, turn and do all at a reasonable pace. The most frustrating part was the learning process - hearing something like "weave like this" or "do this" simply wasn't cutting it for me - I needed specifics and details, body position and movement instructions - do I bend my knees? Should I lean forward? What do I do with my arms? - watching someone else do it with ease was not helpful (and my instructors were made aware of this several times.) Once I got going after those first thirty minutes or so, I was ready to step up my game a little and take some more risks - which of course resulted in the much dreaded face-planting and falling. But, unlike the first go-round all those years ago, I wasn't ashamed at falling - it was merely a consequence of the risk-taking. The best fall (and by "best" I mean most embarrassing and funny) was when I tried to make a sharp turn - and couldn't stop turning. I probably turned in a tightly woven circle about five times before I finally collapsed because I couldn't stop - man, I would pay to see that if I could.
Over all, I had a great time - there, I said it! I put up quite the fight that indicated to my co-skaters (Ryan, Siobhan and Rebecca) that I was going to have a miserable experience - but alas, I am excited about the next opportunity to get on those stilts - er - skates and give it another go. Day one of 2009 and I was already checking something off my list of things to do in Minnesota. In fact, within the first five days of this new year, I have experienced four new "things to do in Minnesota:" ice skating, ice scraping the car windshield, going to a Vikings game at the Dome and learning the Hebrew alphabet. Ok, the Hebrew is a stretch, but it is new and I have learned it - so it counts in my book. Happy New Year indeed!
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