Summertime

I have not been writing much lately and tonight began to consider why that is. There are actually several reasons. Most are centered around the fact that I have not been conducting my day to day in a manner that I am proud of. I have refrained from broadcasting such lesser points of my behavior but alas I have arrived at a point where I feel I must bear my soul in order to move on. Feel free to skip this post and return when better news is in the headlines (ie Transformers sneak preview coming up).

This summer and the last month in particular have seen me in a inexplicable spell of apathy and laze. My Spanish has hardly improved (I don't think changing the menu language on my iPod is going to be enough), I have not run even a mile in preparation for an upcoming 10K, and there are still times when Lauren has to help out with housework. I have not done much in the way of yardwork, though the grass has not need cut in over a month. I did do some cleanup but it wasn't too much. In part I blame the weather (heat mostly) but that's a cop-out. I have tried to do a few other things around the house, but if you read this blog regularly you know the type of trouble I can get into when attics and insulation are involved.

My time has been taken up by a fury of activities that I engaged in rarely, if ever, in the months leading up to summer.
Video Games. I got an Xbox from a friend and FIFA 07 is slightly addictive, shall we say.
TV. A number of influences have led to this decline but mostly I have to attribute it to my increased access to DVR and HDTV at various people's home (mannying, SB, and most recently in CT). In spite of this and the former I think my eyesight is holding up.
Soccer. I regularly play pick-up at Georgia Tech at 12:30 (M,W,F,Sat). Here is where my weather excuse fails me, I mean 12:30!!!.
Work. This is not a substantial commitment at the moment but I could use the money. I'm continuing my work with the Emory project I had worked with over the semester. No P-trak, just data this time.

And then there are the random things that come with summer: trips to be made (Providence last weekend), baseball games (5 this week for the visiting Sox and Tigers), and trips to the doctors' offices (3 offices just this week). Mali had an eye infection after boarding and I fell off my bike. I managed to stay out of the emergency room but went to student health services the next day and was told that I had a slight fracture in my radius. I was then sent to an orthopedist/sports medicine clinic and was told that if it was fractured it was not serious enough for cast, etc. and instead they just drained the fluid from the joint and I was on my way. On a lighter note, it was a wholly surreal experience.

So... from this list I can easily see where more time needs to be devoted and which activities can be cut out. However, that's only half the problem. I feel like my attitude has also changed in the last few months and I haven't felt too good about some of the way I've acted. In general I offer too little respect to others and too much to myself.

One day I killed a snake that I found while cleaning up in the yard. I justified it as preventing a future attack on Mali, but kept thinking about tales of monks who, while digging foundations for buildings, move the worms they encounter to new dirt. I thought also of times I had captured flies in the house using a cup and a piece of paper so they could be set free later and I wondered what had (has) happened.

Later that same day I volunteered to give a man who was going door-to-door a ride to Autozone. I told him I needed 15 mins to do some things and he was gone when I came out. I found out later it was a scam and it was a good thing I had taken the extra time. I rode around the neighborhood for 20 min trying to find him just so I could verbally assault him as a way of releasing my anger, fear and vulnerability.

Today as Lauren graciously picked me up from the game the car behind her honked and I tried to wave them around her. I went on to respond vulgarly to some of the things he yelled at me and I am not proud of that. And all this only hours (4 hours in the constant 95 degree sun [weather is not an excuse]) after we picked up four out-of-towners who were wearing Tiger's garb and waiting for a bus that I am not sure would have come or taken them to the game.

Forward will I go, as we all must. Patience, humility, forgiveness, and less video games.

Nine-Eleven times a Millionith; 0.000911

For me it's always easy to remember the moments of intense nervousness, full of adrenaline, and a need for action. Specifically I am talking about replaying emergencies and tense moments in my head. Especially those involving self-injury seem to be the most vivid, carrying with them their added urgency. Yesterday saw one such moment at the Vargo-Stockman household.

I had taken to the attic for some insulation repair. Our house is fine during the days as it is afforded shade by some large trees on the property. However, in the evenings, when the temperature outside begins to level off ours continues to rise. We've already taken measures like installing fans. We feel the problem lies in-the-sulation, as they say in the business, though some might say we have the in-solution to your heating and cooling problem.

In any event I had taken to the attic for some insulation repair. I had been up there for what I guess would be approaching an hour. I was fully equipped with gloves, mask, and even some glasses I couldn't stand to wear. Not prescription, as you might wonder after finishing the story. One thing I had not prepared for was head protection and as I leaned to get a tight space I felt my head hit the underside of the roof. I continued on until the cold, wet feeling of blood on my head drowned me.

I hopped out the attic as fast as I could and remember starting to breath harder. the sweat from being in the attic had already soaked my clothes an I peeled them off before I really knew what I was going to do. Also, I grabbed the phone and started a 911 call before I was finished with my pants.

I had the chance to glimpse myself in the mirror and continue to describe it as the cover of DMX's Flesh of my Flesh, Blood of my Blood album, though upon closer reflection it was not THAT severe. I finally arrived at the conclusion that a washcloth applied to the wound with pressure was a better solution than a shower.

By the time EMS, or EMT, or AMR (the ambulance) showed up the bleeding had stopped, I had already tried to cleanup some of the blood spots from the floor and had retrieved my vaccination card to check my tetanus booster. Not to say they were slow but just to say that I was calming down, the wound was not as serious as I had first thought, and that I was 'with it.' It turns out that scalp wounds bleed a lot and that was what really set me into a panic. The only thing the two woman paramedics really offered me was a ride to a hospital of my choosing. They didn't check vitals or even offer to clean the wound until I asked if they had materials to accomplish such a task. Instead of jumping in the glorified van for an expensive ride to the hospital, I asked to wait for my wife to get home. The medics checked with a supervisor and said it was fine if I choose not to go to the hospital but they could not leave until Lauren had arrived.

The next 10 minutes passed with an air of relief and palpable awkwardness. When Lauren walked in she said it looked like a scene from a porno flick with two young and uniformed harlots standing around the guy, vulnerable and shirtless. Of course, it couldn't have been further from that and I was glad to see she had come to my rescue and that they could leave. We never went to the hospital but everything turned out fine as I proceeded to milk the minute benefits of such a misfortune, like an afternoon bath.

Kickball

This Sunday I had the chance to experience something that I haven't had since grade school; kickball. For a long time I have been against the apparent resurgence of playground games for adults. For so long these games seemed designed to allow everyone to play and keep kids (or now adults) occupied. But I have to admit that getting out there and playing yesterday with the Atlanta group Kickball Rocks!!! was fun. I am not sure if I will make it out every Sunday to Candler park to join in but the option will something I consider from week to week. Thanks to Laurel for setting the whole thing up and getting us out there.

Oklahoma City

I love watching the Women's College World Series and I am not afraid to admit it. I find myself watching it on ESPN2 every year. I guess I first got into it while I was at Michigan and had a friend on the team. I went to a couple of games but never really followed it intensely. Two years ago while channel surfing I stumbled upon a game in a round before the finals. The fact that Michigan happened to be involved piqued my interest and the announcers notified me of the upcoming broadcasts for the championship games. Michigan won and moved on and I tuned in to see an amazing extra innings game against favorite UCLA. That year Michigan prevailed and obtained their first NCAA women's softball championship.

Since then I run into softball while channel surfing in June and always try to stop to catch up on what's happening, and to see how Michigan has fared. It's not just Michigan that keeps me watching, it's the game itself. Obviously there is some bit of novelty in catching a sport that is on TV rarely (see track and field, olympics) but if it were only that I'd tune into bowling and arena football. The size of the field and the influence of the pitcher are two of the most stark differences between the women's game and the men's. Every year at least one team seems to make it through to the finals on the arm of an insanely tall pitcher with braided hair and a cyclone delivery. This wunder-pitcher will usually throw every pitch of a WCWS for her team, which I assume makes the trip to OK City a little boring for other pitchers. The main pitches of interest are the change up and the riseball, and the ball reaches the plate faster than in the MLB. Nonetheless the girls still add another degree of difficulty by moving toward the mound as the pitch arrives. This is the drag bunt, where players are halfway to first by the time the ball is hit. It seems a great strategic move on the shortened field but the fielders still make the plays and get them out with regularity.

This year Tennessee had the wunder-pitcher in senior Monica Abbott, but failed to seal the deal against Arizona after winning the first game in the best of 3 series. If you happen upon it next year I recommend checking out the WCWS, it beats arena football.

Cleveland

Cleveland, being from Michigan (Detroit at that) you and I are sworn enemies. You and I get off to a bad start since you're from Ohio (a worthless state and my nemesis state), but now I have a whole new bag of reasons to hate you. The Pistons are out of the playoffs, the Tigers trail in the AL central and dropped 5 in a row the Indians (the leaders), and nobody would pick the Lions over anyone, even the Browns. As Cleveland continues to batter Detroit sports I wanted to focus on a couple positive things about the city and the situation.

1. Thanks for B.O.N.E. Thugs n' Harmony, Cleveland. Straight from East 99, they've been slangin' that ye yo and takin' no shorts and no losses since I was in high school, and probably even before that. They came out with a new album in May that I'm surprised I even heard about. I hope they get to perform at one of the two finals games in Cleveland.

2. Major League is a classic sports movie. Thanks go to your Cleveland Indians for being the butt of a motion picture joke that even made it to sequel status. I am thinking that your Indians are not just the centerpiece of the plot but also the entire motivation for the idea. You guys were so bad for so long that it just made sense to give you something with a happy ending. I'm surprised there weren't movies about Boston winning the world series before it actually happened. But Boston is a completely different town; historic, proud, renowned (for good). The people of Boston wouldn't take such sympathy from Hollywood, they'd get drunk and fire GMs until they finally won. You, however, relish the attention and still have not been to the World Series since 48. Good movie.

3. Drew Carey... Hey! thanks for nothin'. Wait should I be thanking Chicago for Harry Caray's lovechild? The names are eerily close (if only they looked alike).

4. Rock and Roll. Every time I see a shot of that glass pyramidal Louvre rip-off on your shore (of our Great Lake) I rack my brain to imagine why the Rock and Roll hall of fame resides in Cleveland. It turns out that Cleveland had a DJ who played rock and roll (how interesting) and beat out Memphis (home of recording studios and artists who play rock and roll) in USA Today Poll and you can't argue with that. To top it off new members to the hall are inducted every year during a ceremony... IN NEW YORK! I can already see Cleveland beating out the likes of a New York borough or LA for the hip hop hall of fame, thanks in part to BONE and their uncanny ability to win despite the absolute absence of value or quality.

So thank you Cleveland for playing some small role in things of some good, but please never forget that our hockey team is better than yours.

Bags

Whenever I hear about the makeup of landfills in the US (for example in this book discussed in class), or when I read pieces about how to reduce your footprint or the 10 things you can do to make a difference plastic bags seem to find their way into the conversation. I guess they really are pesky and persistent nuisances, in more than one regard. While I don't see the connection to stopping global climate change directly it makes sense that using less of these bags could eventually reduce the number that end up somewhere later. The most common substitute, and one that is in my face more all the time, is using a more substantial (cloth, read hemp) bag for your groceries. Your own personal, dedicated, and somewhat more permanent grocery bags.

On a recent trip to Ikea (the haven of socially responsible hyper consumerism, if there is such a thing) we were asked, at the self checkout, how many bags we had used in completing our purchase. Not thinking we responded with none. On the way out we also decided to pick up a food item to take to a party. Again we were asked if we wanted a bag and this time I had to inquire as to why they would need to know. It turned out that it's all a new policy that aims to reduce consumers use (or overuse) of plastic bags. Each bag requested or required by Ikea shoppers will carry with it a $0.05 charge.

I like Ikea's approach to all of this. Leave it up to the consumer to make the change. Maybe people will come here and think about plastic bags and then leave here and make more informed decisions about plastic bags later. The economics of it is simple enough and I, as a consumer, could immediately see how my decision was affected. For us it worked like a charm. We left the store juggling our goods through the parking lot.

After the trip to Ikea, I found out that California had already taken steps making this environmentally-friendly, if not trendy, practice into mandate (no surprise here). San Francisco was the first to take action (again, no surprise). I can't say I'm against all these actions, just think of all the other hazards these bags present. Surely from a public health standpoint (independent of environmental quality) less plastic bags lying around is a good thing. Especially lying around a baby alone on a bed.
If all the plastic bags disappear we may be losing more than a simple and wasteful method of carrying things and picking up dog poop. We might just be taking away a mundane object that, when its path crosses a gust of wind, can make us realize how much beauty there is in the world. But at least if we got rid of new plastic bags today, we'd still have the ones we have right now for the next 200 years or so. Thanks, Ricky.

Santa Barbara :: Winding Down

The weekend of Chad's Graduation Reunion finally ended. Everyone has returned home, including Guitar Hero and the axes. We wrapped it up properly with a huge day.

Freeman and the boys made a trip to the track to put some money on the Preakness ponies. Later the sun came out, the race was run and the ping pong balls replenished. We proceeded to grill up some madly delicious candied bacon cheese BBQ curry burgers before heading out to the club.

Saturday also saw our first real "man down" of the weekend. Mikey took about wicked long nap on the couch and was out of commission for most of the day. At one point of the night a game of flip cup ensued that found the two teams pitted against each other as 'the smart team' and 'the stupid team.' Though I would only go as far as to call them 'the less smart, as defined by a single narrow identifier, team', they began the flip cup competition by losing ten (10) games in a row. Gill, once well into the game of survivor, found himself pitted against all four of our team. He fended off two but ended up losing. He's a good sport. Before heading out to the club, Mikey ironed his shirt while wearing it (on the recommendation from a member of the 'smart team'). Eventually we all went out on the town and had a time.

At the end of the night we voted to pick up burritos on the way home and found ourselves at a corner stand on the recommendation of our limo-van driver. Gill postulated that burritos in Santa Barbara somehow cost an incredible $2.50; an idea later dismissed when we received the bill for our nine (9) burritos. They were delicious. I had a great time with this weekend really enjoyed seeing all of my old friends. It may be a little early but if everyone wants to come down to Atlanta to celebrate my graduation (in a year and a half) with Lauren and me, we'd be happy to host.

Since everyone left we've had more time to unwind and get out a bit. Yesterday we went to the local high school field to kick around the soccer ball and play some catch. Tonight we went to a little BBQ at a friend's house in IV. Isla Vista is a place littered with bikers... bikers riding helmetless down the street in a pair of Uggs with a vente late in one hand. The bike rack outside of what appeared to be a dorm rivaled something you might see in the Netherlands. At that point I guess you stop calling it a bike rack and start saying bike parking area. I really liked the whole feel of it. We played a bit of cornhole and watched the pistons take game one. I am thinking of trying to build a cornhole game of my own. But first I need to stain the deck.

Tomorrow we may go to the hills of SB for a hike, stay tuned.

One last little bit of awesome from this weekend. Enjoy.

Santa Barbara :: Welcome to the Testoster-dome

As the days roll on here, routine begins to to shape. On Thursday there were still a few straggling piece of the workweek to be handled. Not for all of us in school (slackers) of course, but for Freeman and Vinay. There were also trips to be made to stores like Vons, Costco, and Home Depot, all in preparation of the festivities which were to follow.

Our days have consisted of a significant amount of Guitar Hero and beer pong. Thursday was unique as it was sprinkled with Detroit sports throughout. We tried to get Tigers-Red Sox double header on tv but couldn't find it. Then the Pistons clinched their series and the Wings let one slip away but all-in-all a pretty big sporting day for the D. It is really fun to finally get to watch some of these games with a big group of people, especially people all tied to the same team.

The whole trip has turned into an even bigger reunion than initially imagined. Vinay was able to make it here thanks in part to a business trip and Brian Egan came up from LA to hang out for a night as well. Tricia is on the west coast for a stint of work and has come down from Salinas to hang out and show us how hard real guitar is. Everyone is really coming through to spend some time together and take incoherent and sometimes funny pictures.

Friday we began to see the additive effects from repetition of our newly established, if still evolving, routine. Also, with some of the conference calls and grocery shopping out of the way, all of us were free to fully emerge ourselves in the spirit the weekend: celebration of Chad's achievement (which we all found out is forthcoming in October). Devotion to the cause, created more opportunity for reminiscence, catching up and general ridiculousness. For example, see the clip at the end of this post, when Vinay was dared to stick his hand in the ultra cold cooler for what we thought was an impossible length of time. I think he got a few dollars for it. By the end of the night, Mikey was volunteering this type of activity every 3 minutes.

I am proud of the way we all come together and have a good time though. We even come up with ways for Vinay to play flipcup without drinking. It's refreshing to operate in an environment with a number of people who are very comfortable around one another, but perhaps this is where the lunacy comes from. Also, the dynamic of a large group of men is starting to become more and more apparent to me. I am used to having a woman around all the time or working in an environment with a majority of women (RSPH). I will try to think more about differences and how the group dynamic works. We'll see what develops as the weekend rolls on.

warning! strong language

Santa Barbara :: Guitar Hero

I arrived in LA last night and was picked up by Freeman and Gill in their blue Dodge Caravan. The timing of it all had a sense of starling efficiency. It would have been even smoother but Mikey missed his original flight. Something about traffic. Eventually we got everyone assembled, headed to Burbank, picked up Mark and ended up at Chad's at 11:20.

One thing Mikey and Freeman made sure to pack was their extraordinarily large video game controllers. It was all part of a plan starting with an e-mail message that detailed the location of Gill's PS2 (it was at Chad's house). The controllers, their axes as they call them, are for use with the series of video games called Guitar Hero.

You may have seen this in a local arcade, but basically the game follows the lead of the incredibly popular Dance Dance Revolution. And like DDR, it is inexplicably fun and hilarious to watch people try it for the first time. Mikey, Gill, and Freeman are seasoned pros, but it's surprising to see how fast you can pick it up. No idea to mediocre is quick but decent to Jimmy Page takes a long time.

The games (Guitar Hero 1&2) have a really good selection of songs and it's cool that they actually let you play the entire thing rather than an abridged version. The solos are where it becomes really interesting and the most difficult but also the most fun.

Stay tuned, next you may get to hear about the Trailer Park Boys.

Manny

Not Ramirez. Me.

For the last week I was a nanny for Bodhi. I was helping out John and Shannon as Shannon returned to work and there was a week before daycare started. Something like that, anyway they needed a nanny, or manny as it turned out.

I spent around 10 hours a day with 13-week-old Bodhi. I watched him at the house that J+S are renting in Druid Hills. For those of you not familiar with Atlanta, this is not some cultist mountain monastery. This does remind me of how I love the feeling when you first move to a town and are free of all your associations with different neighborhoods. However, one drive down some of these streets and you wouldn't need a tour guide to figure out the character of the place. I should say that there are also good things about getting to know places. If all you know about East Point, you picked up in a Goodie Mob track, then some time at the velodrome is all it would take to change your opinion.

Oh yeah, mannying. We went on walks to Emory village, watched TV, had some tummy time, visited commencement. I did feel a bit emasculated as the only male pushing a carriage around town. The landscapers, sewer maintenance guys, and construction crews all nodded as I walked by but I feel like they laughed after I passed. I wonder if they thought I was a real manny, or a stay-at-home dad who shockingly could live in this neighborhood.

Mostly the kid slept. There were episodes of intense crying. But those were usually in anticipation of the feeding that was on the way. But what a life. When was the last time you had someone push you around while you spent half an hour pushing out gas so hard you crap your pants and then pass out,exhausted. Waking up to the tune of some cleaning you up and changing your pants. All of this taking place immediately before your feeding which is followed promptly by your nap. Ahhhhh, to be young again.

The biggest problems of the whole week were with my dog, and even then they were manageable. So, to all the people who questioned my decision to try this I say, "I did it. The kid's fine (better than fine... dry, fed, exercised, clothed, baby eisteined, burped and cute). You may have been nervous when you heard I was taking care of a 3-month-old all by myself, but I knew I could do it." Moreover I know you can do it too when the time comes. We're programmed to do it. The hardest part is not being able to communicate with him directly. All you'll want to do it give them what they want but they can't tell you what that is and you can't tell them how hard you're trying. So good luck and if you need a manny, call me.