Whammy Multiplication

For a guy who's supposed to be semi-retired and living a life of leisure, my schedule sure does seem to be full. I started to assign blame to a "double-whammy" of circumstances... but then realized that I would have to resort to at least a "quintuple" prefix to adequately describe the egregious whammitude under which I am currently struggling.

Since "whammy" is defined as "evil eye; jinx", it does make me wonder why they call a guitar's tremolo stick a "whammy bar"? And what exactly is tremolo, anyway, and what does it have to do with the late great Eduard Khil?

OK, I'll admit that none of my problems are really "evil", nor jinxian. There's just a lot going on -- Tanner's visit to Denver, a plethora of proposals at work, an oppresive summer heat wave (and the heart-wrench devastation of the Colorado wildfires that accompany it), and training for the Triple Bypass bike ride. Tanner's visit is completely on the "good" and "delightful" side of the enjoyment scale, and serves as the highlight of the summer. Likewise, training for the Triple is mostly a good thing; I enjoy the riding and the cameraderie inherent in the process...but there is a slight amount of pressure I'm causing myself in feeling that there's a lot of work I have to do to get ready. On the other hand, hot weather takes a huge physical and mental toll -- and government proposals are among Satan's most potent weapons in his continuing battle against the forces of good.

So, the bottom line is that my schedule is extremely full, and my personal life (and blogging productivity) are under some unusual stress. It won't continue forever -- by mid-July I should be able to regain some control over my life and leisure time, and am even planning on taking a vacation to somewhere fun. There is that to look forward to. In the meantime, you can probably expect me to remain somewhat withdrawn.

(Speaking of becoming a hermit, well...this has nothing to do with anything at all, but I thought I'd share what I think is a great quote I read this morning. Even though I think his band is one of the most annoyingly talentless, repetitive, and overrated musical acts ever, I have to admit that Bono made me smile with his response to Steve Jobs being upset over one of Apple's product managers leaving to join a competitor. Bono said "That's like the Beatles being upset that Herman's Hermits stole one of their road crew." That made me smile, and brought back memories of my very first involvement in a rock band -- we played "I'm Henry the Eighth, I am" on our back porch when I was about 12 years old. Our band's only instruments were a K-mart quality drum set with paper heads, and a second-hand kazoo. Who'd have thought that one day my brother would go on to play for the KU Marching Band, and my son would actually be a legitimate professional musician? Herman's Hermits and their nonchallenging music can take partial credit for that, I think.)

In that spirit, here are two Herman's Hermit Trivia questions for you:

1. What is the relationship between the group's name and the "Rocky and Bullwinkle" show?

2. What does their lead singer have in common with the movie "The Exorcist"?

OK, let's talk about our previous graphical quiz. We had a higher-than-average success rate with this one -- almost all the responses submitted were absolutely correct. The answer was "Elements".



The first panel contains Raymond Burr in his role as Ironside. Iron is number 26 on the periodic table. The collection of homeless bums in the second panel is the pop group Nickleback (element 28). (I wish I could tell you what their hit songs have been, but I really have no idea.) The effeminate fellow in panel 3 is magician David Copperfield. (OK, his real name is David Seth Kotkin, but however cool "seth" might be, it's not on the periodic table.) Copper is element number 29. Next, we have the Lone Ranger's sidekick. Tonto was played by actor Jay Silverheels (47), around the same time that dog actor Rin Tin Tin (50) was popular. The card-playing fellow is Gert Frobe in his role as Auric Goldfinger (79) in the James Bond movie of the same name. Next to him is puppet Mike Mercury (80) from the classic show "Supercar." Finally, we have Fearless Leader, whose evil minions so often tormented everyone's favorite moose and squirrel. This was the tough one, since the element Lead (82) is pronounced differently than the same letters within the word "leader", but I think it was still a fair challenge. Anyway, thanks to everyone who played.

I was going to make it tougher by adding some folks whose names didn't exactly contain elements (Magnesium PI, Xenon-warrior princess, Mao Tse Tungsten, etc) but decided that wouldn't really be fair.

But wait...I've never worried about being far before. Hmmm.

Oh well -- I'm sure I'll come up with some appropriate challenges for you soon. In the meantime, feel free to impress me with your vast knowledge of Herman's Hermits trivia, and please be extra careful with fire. Have a great day!

Drugs

I do understand the business model. But I don't have to like it.

To ensure continued revenue, companies benefit by fostering a dependence among consumers. I have come to accept some of these dependent relationships -- for example, I am cheerfully resigned to being addicted to Peppermint Patties and Dr. Pepper. I have no problem with my perceived need to have a continuous gym membership. And I've been completely comfortable with my utter reliance on Chapstick since I was 15 years old.

But I do NOT want to become dependent on prescription drugs.

After much discussion and multiple ineffective attempts at dietary control, my doctor finally convinced me to try some cholesterol management medicine. I've been on Lipitor for a couple of months now, and I don't like it. One of the documented side effects is muscle aches, and I have been consistently achy and knotted up since I took the first pill. Of course, it's tough to tell how much of that is due to the drug, and how much is workout related...or perhaps just an "old age" thing. But massages haven't helped, nor has my Body Wrench/foam roller work, nor even sitting in a hot tub for extended periods. I'm just feeling constantly tight and lumpy, and am thus not able to access my natural fluid grace.

Well OK, you caught me -- I've never had any fluid grace. But you know what I mean. I have never been as consistently tense and wound up as I have been since I started Lipitor...so I'm looking forward to getting off of it. I'll finish this bottle and get my cholesterol checked again in a month or so, and after that will do my best to hold the LDL and triglyceride numbers down with strictly non-pharmaceutical methods.

But that's not my only drug-dependence issue right now. As previously reported, I had been squirting Nasonex up my nose to open up the Eustachian tubes as a cure for the mysterious crackling noises I heard coming from inside my head. It worked, and I've been free of crunchy audio phantoms for over a month. So I stopped using the spray. And guess what? The noises have begun again.

So I guess I'll start shooting the Nasonex again. Bummer. I hate to think that my ears are permanently messed up, and that I'll need this medication forevermore. It's a pain to remember to use it each evening, an inconvenience to administer the doses, and a drain on the wallet when it comes time to renew the prescriptions. And from a self-image standpoint alone, it's important to me to avoid such addictions. I do NOT want to be one of those old guys who schedules his life around his pillbox.

Of course, I don't want to have clogged arteries or unsolicited ear noises, either. But if I expect to avoid allocating a significant portion of every single paycheck to the drug companies, I guess I'll have to explore other alternatives. For the cholesterol problem, a conversion to Veganism might be the answer, as commie-pinko-hippy-queer as that might sound. An unpleasant option, to be sure, but one I could probably do. As for the Eustachian tube noises, I suppose I could try pouring some Liquid Plumr down my ear canal, or perhaps implementing some sort of Mythbusters-style solution involving energetic explosives. I'll have to consider all the available approaches before deciding what to try next. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

In the meantime, I have another graphical challenge for you. What is the common theme that runs throughout these pictures? (Click to enlarge the photos.)



I'll give you two hints -- They are in a specific order, and that order is also represented by this sequence: 26 28 29 47 50 79 80 82.

Good luck, and have a great day!

Altitude

The Rockies suck.

But it's still a grand privilege and a pleasure to spend an evening at the ballpark. When my brother told me he had an extra ticket to a game at Coors Field, I jumped at it. It was gorgeous weather, we parked within a block of the stadium, and the Rockies were still ahead when we decided it was past our bedtime.

My baseball-related question is this: Do the stupid animated jumbotron contests enhance the ballpark experience in any way? Would you miss them if they were gone? Do the advertisers really see a boost in their sales from making people watch "pedicab races" or "which barber chair has the ball"? I kinda doubt it, but I'm not sure. Perhaps the 2 to 5-year old demographic is developing a lifelong bond with the sport through their fascination with these contests. Or not.

I do enjoy the "catch the flyball from the slingshot" and "sprint to plant 2nd base" competitions. They're fun, and you can see yourself giving those challenges a shot. (I have no idea who sponsors them, though.)

Anyway, the point is that my brother is a swell fellow, and I enjoy hanging out with him, despite all the pain and suffering he caused me by being such an annoying obnoxious punk kid when we were growing up. And baseball is an enjoyable sport, even when your team is scraping the bottom of the crusty Soylent Green vat.

As for the weekend, well, it was great! As usual, I could've used two or three more days away from work to get my domestic chores completed, but I can't complain. On Friday, I videotaped an interview with an outstanding gentleman named Hu Bierbaum, a WWII infantry veteran who won a Purple Heart when he was run over by his own half-track. I know I talk about APHA a lot, but they are doing important work, and deserve your generous donations. The heroic folks who have served our country in the military deserve to be remembered, applauded, and thanked far more than they ever receive -- and besides, it's just such an immense pleasure to meet these guys. The WWII vets I have met have all been charming, articulate, and friendly, and have told some amazing stories. I may complain about all the hours I put in while editing these videos, but I feel it's the least I can do for these guys who risked it all in defense of freedom.

Saturday morning, I met my friend Kim at 4:30am. We drove from his house up to Idaho Springs, then got on our bicycles and rode part of the Triple Bypass course up to the base of Loveland Pass.

And I do mean UP.



It was gorgeous! A bit chilly at times (especially on the downhills), but a fabulous day for a ride. The nice thing about the route is that most of the roads and trails are not crowded -- at least not at 6:00 in the morning. Without traffic to worry about, we were free to enjoy the scenery, the smell of the pine trees, and that pleasant burning sensation you get in your legs when you're climbing a steep hill at high altitude.



We rode past the Georgetown Loop Railroad (shown in this photo), and then up the bike path that ends up at the Loveland ski area parking lot. I didn't have to go to my granny ring all the way from Idaho Springs until we got on the bike path, but shortly thereafter was wishing I had a great-granny ring. Not enough air, and no place to coast.

The path through the woods is spectacularly beautiful, but absolutely relentless in its ascent. The good news is that Kim and I handled it easily and are confident that we'll be able to do it again during the Triple Bypass, even though we'll have already scaled Squaw Pass at that point. The bad news is that Loveland Pass awaits right after the end of this trail. The other good news is that there will be a huge lunch buffet in the ski area parking lot so we'll be able to rest and refuel (and possibly rest some more) before starting the next big climb.

That event is only about a month away, and I'll need to put in several more long training rides before then. But I'm feeling good about it, and am already looking forward to being back on that same road. It's just another one of those routes that make you really appreciate the beauty of Colorado.

I'm not sure where I'll ride this next weekend. I'd kinda like to get in a Saturday morning lake swim...but that would mean riding really early. But it is the Solstice, so I guess there's no better time for earlybirding it. I just need to make sure I get good sleep each night this week so I'll be ready for it. We'll see how the summer heat affects my rest schedule. In the meantime, please take a moment to appreciate both the wonderful place where we live, and the people who made it possible for us to freely live here and enjoy it so much. Thanks, and have a great day!

Racing

In trying to decide what races to enter this summer, it occurred to me that for the last several years, I have only competed in events my friends had also entered.

Actually, let me amend that: I have only entered races when my friends have twisted my arm, blackmailed me, or used voodoo curses to motivate me to sign up. It's been a LONG time since I just looked at an event description and said "Gee, that sounds like fun; I think I'll give them my credit card number!"

(By the way, that is NOT me in the photo above. You'll never catch me riding without a helmet like that dweeb. Guys like that give the sport a bad name. Geez.)

This revelation has caused me to do some soul searching. It's not really one of the Grand Questions of the Universe, such as "What is the meaning of life?", "Are we alone in the Universe?", and "Is resistance really futile?"...but it's a good question nonetheless:

"Why do I enter competitions?"

If I could answer that, it might help me decide how to allocate time and money toward a racing schedule. Or at least be at peace with the decision not to, as the case may be.

First, I must acknowledge that I do like to win. Even if I get the first place award merely for finishing the race when none of the fast guys showed up, it still feels good to say that I won. That's why I enter events like the 200 butterfly; there are plenty of dudes in my age group who can easily beat me, but chances are good that they'll just skip it and let me take home the ribbon.

Of course, it's even sweeter when the victory comes through my own effort rather than mere attrition. But since my genetic gifts are skewed more toward academic aptitudes than athletic ones, physical triumphs based on anything other than luck are quite rare in my life.

There are two notable exceptions. One is my victory in the 50m Tazmanian Hula in the first World Championships a few decades ago. Ron Neugent (a 1980 Olympian and American Record Holder) was a legitimate top-tier competitor, and I whupped him fair and square. (He has since beaten me by the slightest of margins, and currently holds the World Champion Title...but I expect it to be mine again the next time we meet.)

The other example of a victory that I truly earned occurred when I was still living in Kansas. When my hometown officially celebrated its 100th anniversary, they held the "Wichitennial River Festival", which featured a canoe jousting event. The Wichita competition featured a single paddler in the stern and a jouster standing on a platform toward the bow of the canoe. The jouster was given a giant Q-tip with which to pummel his opponent with the intent of knocking the other fellow into the river.

I can't remember exactly how I became involved, but it seems to me that my former Boy Scout Troop was one of the sponsors of the event, and their originally-chosen competitor was unable to attend the event that day. Somebody in the troop started making phone calls to anyone who had earned the Canoeing Merit Badge...and I was the one who apparently didn't have anything better to do that day.

My teammate was Mike Holt, a schoolmate and former camping buddy who was a competent paddler. I was the jouster, and with some trepidation managed to somehow achieve a standing position atop the canoe. It was a single elimination competition -- if you fell in, you were done.

The favorite was a well-known local muscleman, Steve Carey. He had been a counselor and canoe expert at Aquatics Camp, and was an excellent swimmer and all-round athlete. He was tall and broad and quick as a cat, and he looked supremely confident as he easily clubbed his first few opponents into submission. Since I was having trouble even standing upright on the wobbly canoe, I assumed that I wouldn't last long in the competition, and would be spared the humiliation of being pounded by the big guy.

But to my surprise, Mike and I won the first round. It was over almost instantly; as soon as the canoes got close enough, I took a wild swipe with my Q-tip and bopped the poor fellow square upside the head. He tumbled in without quite knowing what had happened. I saw Steve Carey smiling at me from his position downriver, and could tell that he knew I was the recipient of blind good luck.

My second bout was not as easy. I once again tried for a quick kill, but nearly fell overboard when I completely missed my target. I was able to regain balance, though, and continued sparring for what was probably 30 seconds or so. Mike was so engrossed in watching me dance with our opponent that he momentarily forgot he was supposed to be controlling the boat. The bow of our canoe actually rammed the other boat, and I stumbled forward with the impact. Mike immediately backpaddled to move us away, and the timing was perfect -- as I was stumbling, the other guy thought he had an opening and stabbed away with gusto. But as our boat backed up and I struggled to keep from taking a header into the water, the other jouster's momentum carried him too far forward...and he plunged overboard into the drink. We were two for two!

I began to get an idea. During the next break, I had a quick chat with my paddler, and came up with a new strategy. Rather than relying on strength and agility (which I possessed in meager quantities, at best), we would stake our success on deception and avoidance. I would pretend to attack, but wouldn't actually even try to hit the other guy -- instead, my concentration would be focused on NOT getting hit myself. Mike would take the strategy of moving us in and out in an effort to stay just out of reach of our opponent's lance. Instead of assuming the expected close-quarters grappling position, we would try to deke the other guy into falling in under his own momentum.

It worked. And before we knew it, we were in the finals.

I wish there was videotape of the final epic battle. Steve Carey was too coordinated to stumble off his boat from a simple miss. He was aggressive, though, and his paddler made sure to close the gap whenever our boat would back up. I still didn't really try to hit him, but had to make my feints believable, thus making my balance somewhat precarious. I was struck several times, but only glancing blows...so I somehow managed to keep my feet and hold onto my Q-tip. But I didn't have the skill and dexterity of my adversary. It was obvious that the longer the battle went, the less likely I was to remain dry.

As I tried to dodge and balance and refrain from panic, I took a moment to mentally review the rules of the competition. They were simple: The last one standing wins. I had already realized that I didn't need to strike a blow to achieve victory, but needed to take that thought one step further. So, the next time Steve lunged at me, I simply grabbed his lance and pulled. Splash! He was in the river, and Mike and I were suddenly the Wichitennial Jousting Champions!

Unfortunately, there was no cash prize, no kisses from beautiful and nubile jousting groupies, and no glowing recaps on the evening news reports. But to this day, I still have my pride in this once-in-a-lifetime accomplishment. I retired from the sport undefeated.

What does this have to do with the question I asked earlier? Well...I'm not entirely sure.

Perhaps I enter competitions mainly so I'll have stories to tell. Indeed, my favorite competitive memories are typically not from the races that went smoothly...but from the ones that were interesting. I remember the marathon where I broke my foot far more vividly than the one where I ran my PR. Victory is a fabulous thing to experience, but so is uniqueness. I seem to be more suited for oddity than anything else, so I think my conclusion is that I should seek events outside the mainstream. Rather than doing 10Ks or Olympic Triathlons, I should try something different. The Tough Mudder looks kinda fun...except for the mud and electric shocks. (Mud and electic shocks? OK, when I think about it, the Tough Mudder doesn't sound like fun at all.)

Perhaps I need to create my own unique event. Something that combines the sports of swimming, kung fu, and 1960s TV Trivia with marshmallow creme fudge brownie sundaes. I'll have to start looking for sponsors.

In the meantime, please let me know if you have any ideas for fun events I might enter. No arm-twisting or blackmail...I'm just looking for something fun that takes place somewhere pretty, and will result in a good story to tell. I'll keep you posted on the options, and I'll probably have more to say about the appeal of competition and its place within the grand scheme of life. Until then, stay adventurous, and have a great day!

Lois Lane

Has any superhero, ever, had a girlfriend who didn't need to be rescued? Even as a kid, I got upset with Superman for continuing to rescue Lois Lane when she was clearly deserving of multiple Darwin Awards. Jimmy Olsen, maybe...he was just a dumb kid who might someday grow up and develop some common sense. But Lois? Lois was a maroon.

I have to say that Noel Neill is still my favorite Lois, despite the fact that some of the TV Loises (Loii?) were far more hot and sultry. Ms. Neill seemed to have a sense of humor, and even though you might be upset by her refusal to think logically, you had to admire her spunky energy.

I thought Jack Larson was the best Jimmy, too, even though Marc McClure gets honorable mention for having his head cut off due to Marty McFly's carelessness with the space-time continuum.

Anyway, Wikipedia says that Noel Neill was the 2nd most popular WWII pinup girl behind Betty Grable. As far as I know, she's still alive, but no longer serves as bait in kryptonite-laden traps. I wish her well.

As for other superhero girlfriends, I think it might be fun to have a longer discussion of their appeal and effectiveness in some future post...but for today, we'll just stick with the answers to yesterday's puzzle.



The first panel features an incredible insect, the world's most powerful example of drosophila melanogaster, Fearless Fly. In a reversal of the Clark Kent paradigm, Fearless gains his power through his glasses, and is helpless without them. When lensless, he becomes a regular fly named Hirem. As disgusting as it is to imagine romance among nasty little bugs, the fact is that FF did have a love interest. Her name is Flory, and though I'm not certain, I'll assume that her last name is also "Fly", so her initials would allow them to share their original monogrammed towels should they decide to cohabitate.

One side note: When I was in the Boy Scouts, the mascot for my patrol was a stuffed bear we named "Hirem". We took him along on campouts, and included him in all patrol meetings. I can't swear to it, but I think he was named after Fearless Fly's alter ego. (As for why we had a bear as a mascot for the Black Widow patrol, I haven't a clue.)

Mighty Mouse is the only hero I know of who sang his own theme song whenever he dashed to the rescue. This odd habit, combined with his tendency toward flamboyant costuming has led many to speculate that he was a mighty gay mouse...but he did have a girlfriend. Her name was Pearl Pureheart, and she seemed to have a penchant for antagonizing felines. To the best of my knowledge, though, MM had no secret identity. When he wasn't flying around singing and administering beatings, he apparently spent his time collecting wildflowers and designing evening gowns. Or so I've heard.

The name "Pearl Pureheart" was obviously a ripoff of Underdog's girlfriend, "Sweet Polly Purebred." Time travel must have been involved, since Mighty Mouse predated Underdog by a couple of decades, but that's a topic for the scientists and/or theologians to argue.

I became a fan of the show when I was in grade school, when my knowledge of the world (and linguistics) was still quite limited. I remember wondering what "Pure bread" was, and why anyone would name a canine reporter chick after some obscure bakery product.

Anyway, both Underdog and Mighty Mouse often battled cats, but that's where the similarities end. Both Underdog and his secret identity, Shoeshine Boy, are disinclined toward both musicality and fashion sense, and there's no doubt at all about his genuine affection for Sweet Polly. Why he speaks in rhyme is a mystery, but he's got a great announcer (George S. Irving), and a wonderful opening title sequence. If that's not all, Underdog's voice is provided by the same guy who gave us the Biddle Bird Watchers (shown here.)

Superchicken's secret identity was Henry Cabot Henhouse III, a wealthy aristocrat rooster who drank super sauce and donned a musketeer costume to fight crime. As far as I know, he did not have a girlfriend...probably because he always hung out with a lion named Fred. (Girl chickens tend to avoid socializing with lions...unless they are also suffering a Darwin deficit, a la Lois Lane.) Fred is the one who is constantly reminded that he knew the job was dangerous when he took it. Along with Underdog and George of the Jungle, Superchicken completes the triad of All-time Great Cartoon Theme Songs.

Finally, we have Mr. Ben Grimm (aka "the Thing"), whose primary skill consists of clobberin' bad guys. The Ben Grimm persona isn't really a secret identity; everybody knows who he is. But there is a distinct difference when he's in Grimm (ie, human) mode versus when he's all bulked out in orange rock form. Since most human women prefer the aesthetics of dating men with skin rather than mineral formations covering their bodies, the mutated Mr. Grimm developed the effective strategy of only dating blind women. His girlfriend, Alicia Masters, is a keen judge of character, but is thankfully unconcerned with facial symmetry, etc.

That's the kind of girl I should be looking for. Of course, in my case she'd also need to have an impaired sense of smell, a damaged sense of humor, and very low expectations in terms of intellect and common sense. And it would help if she had a high tolerance for cartoon trivia and a Star Trek worldview. And enough money to enable my immediate and permanent retirement from the corporate world, too. If you know anyone like this, please let me know.

That's all I have to say about superheroes for the moment. Next, I'm going to start searching for some sort of competition to enter. I'm thinking of trying to find an interesting event I could travel to in conjunction with a trip to Seattle to visit Tanner. Any suggestions?

Anyway, I'll be happy to revisit the superhero girlfriend or secret identity topics if anyone brings up an interesting take on the subject. In the meantime, please avoid exposure to radioactive arachnids (etc), and have a great day!

Snow in June

OK, it's not really snow -- it's hail. But it still covered the ground in white, and that ain't supposed to happen when it's t-shirt weather.

These pictures were taken last week at the Ridge, right before swim practice. It was a heck of a storm; I woke up in the middle of the night when hailstones started smacking my bedroom window. This was especially noteworthy, since my bedroom windows are underneath a balcony, tucked behind where the storage closet juts out, and behind a couple of trees. It takes a pretty good wind to fling hail against windows that are so sheltered and unexposed.

The golf course was pretty, though, with the white patches atop the lush greens. Nature's wrath and Nature's aesthetic pleasures are sometimes closely related.

Much has happened since then, including my Triple Bypass packet pickup and my first run in Waterton Canyon in many weeks. Now that I have the TB jersey and race numbers, I guess I should start training a bit more on the bike, eh?

I will say this; it's fiendishly clever of them to have the packet pickup inside the bicycle store. I ended up spending a significant amount of money there. The first expense was reasonable; I needed a new rear tire and inner tube. I had broken the stem off my Presta valve, and even though the tube still held air, I couldn't refill it again since I couldn't operate the valve. I had been planning to replace the tire as well before the Triple Bypass, so now seemed like a good time to just get it all done. But I probably didn't really need to buy the extra tubes (great sale!), the arm warmers, and the tubetop storage pouch with accessible smartphone pocket.

Anyway, the tendency toward impulse shopping aside, I now have everything ready to go for the 120 ride from Evergreen to Avon...except for fitness and strength, of course. (Unfortunately, Bike Source doesn't sell those.)

Oh well, I still have a few weeks. My focus and self discipline will be on constant display over that time period.

--- HA! Had you going there for a second, didn't I?

Anyway, speaking of focus and self-discipline, let's see if you can match the following catchphrases with the appropriate superhero. Bonus points if you can name the hero's alternate identity, girlfriend, and day job. (And plese let me know which of your favorites I've left off the list. Perhaps I'll add them in a future puzzle.) Thanks, and have a great day!

A. It's clobberin' time!
B. Here I come to save the day!
C. You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.
D. My glasses! Without them, I'm helpless!
E. There's no need to fear...

Storms

Whenever I hear the word "storm", I think of the phrase "Viene la tormenta!", which is one of the best lines out of one of my favorite movies. I wonder whatever happened to the kid who said it? Did he have any idea that a single line from his bit part about scamming some hippie chick in a jeep would still send chills down the spine of random swim coaches several decades later? I doubt it.

I also love the way the final music blends with the bleak scenery to create a haunting image that makes you beg for a sequel. Wow.

And at the risk of revealing too much of my tender and sentimental side, I will proudly admit that I still rank "Terminator" as my favorite love story of all time. Am I alone with this viewpoint? Or do we just not talk about it because it seems weird to rank a killer robot movie as more romantic than anything with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan? Seriously, if you are not moved by the relationship between Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese, you must be an emotionless cyborg yourself. And if the passion between the fugitive lovers is not enough, you have the different, yet intensely powerful emotional and caring relationships between Sarah and her unborn son, between John and Kyle, and between John Connor and all of humanity. It's touching and moving on many levels; making for a timeless romantic classic, indeed.

On the other hand, if the picture to the right is what you think about when you hear "storm", then I guess we're coming at it from slightly different perspectives, aren't we?

Hmm. That just gave me an idea for tomorrow's trivia quiz! We'll talk about superhero catch phrases. Should be fun!

Anyway, the point is that I woke up around midnight last night because hailstones were battering my patio, my chimney, and my windowpanes. Since my windows are beneath upper-story overhangs and sheltered by trees, it requires some pretty enthusiastic wind energies to fling precipitants with enough force to impact the glass. Sounded like a heck of a storm. So of course, I crawled out of bed and went over to peer out the window to see what I could see.

Rain, hail, and a dark damp parking lot. Pretty much what I should've expected. Is it the fact that it's midnight that makes us jump up in anticipation of seeing Riders of the Apocalypse, Ringwraiths, and/or an angry Thor? Or is it just human nature to want to ooh and ahh over stuff that's loud and violent? A good lightning storm can occasionally provide visual entertainment superior to 4th-of-July festivities, but most rain/hail storms lose their watchability as soon as you realize that no witches are being blown past the window, and that Munchkinland is not on your itinerary after all. And when you factor in astigmatism/myopia like I have, well, you tend to quote the police tape unspooler guys: "Nothing to see here, folks. Move along. Move along."

Once back in bed, though, I continued to listen to the concussive symphony for another 15 minutes or so until it mellowed to an all-liquid patter, at which point I went back to sleep.

The real question is whether the interruption of my sleep will affect my cognitive abilities at the office today. I have a proposal document due to the customer at 2pm, and will have to be sharp and efficient in my editorial duties. With the deadline looming, and the science team egregiously behind schedule, it's going to be a real challenge to obtain, clean up, and post the document online within the time allotted. If I'm yawning and struggling to prop open my eyelids as I attack these editorial tasks, it could be a rough day, indeed.

Anyway, I hope you got a good night's sleep despite the storm, and that you're feeling refreshed and alert throughout your Thursday. If you get the chance, let me know your thoughts about your favorite love-story movies...and have a great day!

More Science

Over the weekend, I watched part of a TV series about ancient alien visitors. It explained how extraterrestrials built the pyramids, wrote the Bible, and taught Benjamin Franklin the art of kite flying...not to mention noting that the moon is obviously hollow and that all Egyptian Pharaohs were spacefaring hybrids with the ability to manipulate DNA. I was already familiar with most of those facts, but didn't realize that most Rennaissance religious iconography incorporates tiny spaceships into the painting's background...usually just over the Virgin Mary's left ear. Fascinating.

What they did NOT explain was why my last two bags of Peppermint Patties have contained so many individually-wrapped packages where the candy has secreted a clear, sticky goo that makes it hard to open the wrapper and gets slime on your fingers as you attempt to "get the sensation." Is this because the delivery truck sat in the heat too long...or is it the result of radiation leaking from the Ark of the Covenant, which obviously contains some sort of 2000-year old nuclear weapon? After hearing the facts about how the aliens have had a hand in every major event since the beginning of time (including the extinction of the dinosaurs, global warming, and the career of Ryan Secrest), the second explanation seems far more plausible.

Will I stop eating Patties, just because I've had to deal with gooey fingers for the last few weeks? No, probably not. Even a flawed and slimed-out Patty is preferable to most other desserts. And until my friends stage an intervention and hire hypnosis-trained deprogrammers to kidnap me and force-feed me Snickers bars instead, I suspect my addiction will remain intact.

I'm curious, though -- what is YOUR favorite ancient alien artifact? Stonehenge? Easter Island? Orson Welles? Let me know and I'll share the survey results. Thanks.

So, what about these guys? Well, I have to confess that it was probably a bit deceptive for me to challenge you to "figure out which photo from the right column goes with which scientist" -- because they are all lined up correctly as it is.

The key to the puzzle is that name of the photo item is embedded within the name of the associated scientist. Our first brainiac is Sir Isaac Newton, who is paired with Newt Gingrich. Get it?

Next we have the famous cat-killer, Erwin Schrödinger. Below him is Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar, who discovered that there is a limit to the mass of a stable white dwarf star, which as we all know, is 2.864 × 10³⁰ kg.

For some reason, a bunch of folks seem to think that the next dude is named "Hawkins", and are under the impression that his most enduring contribution to society is the wheelchair-mounted boxing glove. But the fellow's name is actually Stephen Hawking, and his cosmological research has provided humanity with a greater understanding of light, black holes, and the nature of the space-time continuum.

The guy with the flamethrower is Albert Einstein, a name that is also associated with multiple significant breakthroughs in cosomolgical knowledge. But it actually takes a slight bit of Kevin Bacon-ish logic to get to the fluffy-haired scientist from the cartoon. The character shown here is actually called Hank Scorpio, and is trying to take over the world in Bond-villain fashion. But his voice was provided by the same guy who played the father fish in "Finding Nemo", Mr. Albert Brooks. What you may not know is that "Brooks" is a stage name -- he was actually born with the surname "Einstein", but felt that having the same name as the E-MC² guy could be a detriment to his comedy career. His brother Robert, though, kept the family name as he pursued a slightly different path in humor. Even though Albert's brother appears in credits as "Bob Einstein", most people know him as "Super Dave Osborne", the world's greatest stuntman (shown in the small photo in yesterday's blog.) So that's our connection between physicists and stuntmen, which is quite appropriate considering that you really have to know your formulas to calculate how fast you need to go to jump a motorcycle over a row of buses, or waterski over a shark.

That's all for today. If I learn anything new about how ancient Gungans and Hutts influenced the development of humankind, I'll be sure to share it with you. In the meantime, have a great day, and always watch the skies!

Time Warp

The left column of this graphic contains pictures of famous really smart guys. Can you figure out which photo from the right column belongs with each of those scientists?

You get extra credit if you can describe their contributions to humanity's understanding of the universe, and double good extra bonus credit if you can explain any of it so that someone like me can understand it.

Oh, and another 20 points goes to anyone who can identify which scientist is related to the guy in the center of the photo to the right.

If you've known me for any length of time, you've probably figured out that I like and admire scientists. I never seriously considered becoming one, probably because I have the attention span of an ephemeropteran, and thanks to childhood television influences, could never hear the word "beaker" without thinking of that guy from Supercar. But I certainly do enjoy hanging out with science geeks, and am fortunate enough to work with a group of them who are willing to talk slowly and use cartoons to explain stuff to me.

Thanks to these fellows, I learn something new almost every single day. I doubt that I'll ever understand why one slow driver can screw up traffic for miles and miles, or why anyone watches those obnoxious celebrity chef shows, or why U2 ever got a recording contract...but I'm sure learning all sorts of cool stuff about plasma energy control for thin-film deposition. Oh, if I won the PowerBall jackpot I'd retire in a heartbeat--you can count on that, but as long as I have to work for a living, my current job is a pretty sweet place to be.

I'm always tired by the time I get out of the office, though. My intent is to go out to the pond for a swim on Monday and Wednesday evenings throughout the summer, but last night I was too hungry and sleepy to talk myself into it. The "hungry" part was especially troubling, since I knew that my fridge was devoid of fruits and veggies; and I'm supposed to be on this cholesterol-lowering health kick. So despite my fatigue, I stopped off at the grocery store on the way home to stock up on fresh food for the rest of the week.

Here's what's really weird, though -- as I was selecting fruit from the produce section, I got it into my head that I shouldn't buy too much since the week was almost over. I was convinced that it was Wednesday for some reason, and I did my shopping accordingly.

Do you ever have a temporal disconnect like that? I believe I even went to bed thinking that I'd wake up on Thursday morning, and needed to be making plans for weekend bike rides. Of course, when I did wake up this morning, I realized exactly what day it was and immediately regretted that I didn't pick up a few more apples during last night's shopping trip. Oh well. The store is right next to where I live, so I can always zip over there again if I need to.

But it does kinda bug me that I got so out of synch. Perhaps the brain cells that are filling up with plasma physics information are ones that used to process the passage of time, but are now otherwise occupied. What's next? Forgetting to wear pants?

We'll see. In the meantime, I plan to take advantage of every educational opportunity I get, and intend to asborb whatever science knowledge my work buddies will bestow...even if it costs me my chronological senses. So if you see me wandering around aimlessly, just gently remind me what day it is and I'll probably resume functionality. If not, then just try to make sure I don't miss my next swim practice. Everything else is expendable...but not swimming.

As always, thanks for all your support. Have a great day!

Enough!

Pop Quiz! The guy on the left is:

A. Conrad Janis
B. New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg
C. John Lennon
D. Lasse Viren

I apologize for starting your day with a political rant, but seriously folks, these people MUST be stopped!

Mayor Bloomberg's egregious attack on personal freedom is just the latest in a long string of "First they came for the SUV drivers..." gestapo tactics by various government agencies. I've complained about it, and have voted against the Soylent Green factions at every opportunity. As much as I have always hated the government's uncalled-for intrusions into our personal choices (automobiles, insurance, light bulbs, etc), when they start coming for our soft drinks, it is time to draw the line.

Please, please join me in voting against anyone and everyone who thinks Government knows better than citizens. While I'll admit that there are some things that probably do require government involvement to be done effectively (roads, defense, forest fire fighting, etc), I simply cannot agree that it is the duty of elected officials to tell me what to eat and drink.

Don't get me wrong; I'm totally in favor of good nutrition. I spend a large chunk of my time trying to help others in their quests for health and fitness. But I do not see it as my responsibility (nor anyone else's) to force people to live their lives in any particular way. I am not Herbert (nor Landrew), and I don't think anyone needs to assume those roles, either. I'm sure that the Bloombergs of the world are working to change the situation to take away our ability to reverse their edicts, but as of right now, we still have the power to vote these tyrants out of office.

So, in November, let's all stand together and say "Enough is enough!" Let's replace these power-mad elitists with people who understand and respect the concept of freedom. If you hear any candidate talking about how government involvement can solve everyone's problems, then vote for the other guy. Our elected officials shouldn't be telling us what to do -- it's the other way around. If they don't understand that, then they shouldn't have that job.

OK, let's move on. It had to be said, but it's out of my system now. Congratulations to everyone who knew the answer to the pop quiz, and bonus points to anyone who knew that Conrad Janis was the guy who played Mindy's dad on "Mork and Mindy." (He does look like Vladimir, though, doesn't he?) And Lasse Viren was a famous runner whose phenomenal performances were frequently attributed to blood doping.

Anyway, thinking of those guys gave me an idea for a good graphical quiz that I'll present in the next few days. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, let's talk about what a fabulous weekend I had.

The highlight of the weekend was our Foothills Masters Swim Team party. Our hosts were Leif Oines (the smiling fellow shown here), and his lovely wife (and famous author), Margaret Feinberg. I knew Leif was a talented sprinter and supremely nice guy, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he is also an unquestioned Master of BBQ. Swimmers will eat huge quantities of just about anything, but it's unusual to see them stop after each bite to make yummy noises. There were continual "mmmmm!" expressions throughout the evening as people savored Leif's tender and tangy creations.

Of course, there were also plenty of salads and desserts, too. And though you might expect swimmers and triathletes to talk about nothing but training and racing, there were also fascinating conversations on other topics, including a hugely entertaining and touching recap of the Titanic's 100-Year Anniversary cruise presented by Janet Kalstrom, who had represented Denver's Molly Brown House Museum during the event.

As I sometimes do at parties like this, I probably had one too many cans of Dr. Pepper, but hey -- it's a party, right? Gotta live it up.

Anyway, it's always good to be able to spend some time with my teammates without yelling at them about two-hand touches or interval management, etc. They normally think of me as a heartless sadist whose only purpose in life is to administer tortures and reprimands. But at a party like this, they can see the other side of me -- a cultured gentleman who can also quote lines from both "Star Trek" and "Dude, Where's My Car?" And if the mouthwatering food, sparkling conversation, and historical edification weren't enough, there was also the view from Leif's deck:



Whoa. Life is good, eh? But eating BBQ and gazing across golf courses wasn't all I did over the weekend. Friday after swim practice, I got a new windshield for my car. The old one had a crack in it, and while it wasn't a safety hazard at all, the timing seemed right to go ahead and get the new one installed. I didn't want to put my new parks pass on a cracked windshield, and the old one had expired. Ergo...time for new glass.

Saturday morning, it was my turn to monitor the swimmers at the Chatfield pond. Each swimmer is supposed to volunteer at some point over the summer, and I figured this would be a good time to do it. It would force me to go to the pond, and as long as I was already there, I'd probably be able to talk myself into swimming a lap or two. What I hadn't thought through was the fact that this particular Saturday would be the first day for hundreds of other lake swimmers, and the vast majority of them would need to sign waivers before we could allow them to swim. I was constantly busy throughout my shift, with extended queues for both the "pre-approved" swimmers and the "paperwork" crowd. Thank goodness the swimmers were all polite and patient; we processed them through as quickly as we could. But it did require a pretty high level of effort.

But now that we got everyone signed in with the proper authorizations, all the other monitors will have a much easier job. Their challenge will consist of nothing more than knowing the order of the letters in the alphabet.

You're welcome. Oh, and by the way, I did swim about 2 laps in the pond, and the water was refreshing! I'm glad I went.

Anyway, after a long day and too much BBQ on Saturday, I wasn't sure I really wanted to get up early on Sunday morning for a ride up Highgrade/CityView. But as he always does, my buddy Kim managed to talk me into it. We met a little before 5:30am, and rode about 50 miles before we called it a day. It was good to get the saddle time, and it served as a confidence builder for the upcoming Triple Bypass ride. I wish I felt a little more powerful at this stage of my training, but we still have a few weeks left -- so with some good self-discipline, I might be able to eke out some sort of conditioning improvements.

Wait? Self-discipline? Uh, yeah, not really my thing. Oh well, maybe I just need to oil my chain really well and pump the tires up to maximum pressure to decrease rolling resistance. That'll take care of it, right?

Actually, that's a problem I'll have to deal with. After pumping up my rear tire on Sunday morning, I went to twist the Presta valve closed...and it snapped off in my fingers! The little knobby part just separated from the valve stem. It held air just fine, but without being able to loosen it back up, there's no way I can fill this tube again. Therefore, I'm going to have to replace it before my next long ride. Windshields, bike tubes, groceries -- there's always something that needs to be replaced. Oh well, that's just how it goes, I suppose. I'll have to find a spot in my schedule for that.

In the meantime, here's a picture I took at the Pleasant Park Schoolhouse at the top of Highgrade Road on Sunday. There was a family of three foxes dancing around in the field near the biker rest stop. One of them ducked behind the grass when I hit the camera button, but you get the idea.



On Sunday afternoon, I did another interview for the Veterans History Project. Wayne Best is a Navy veteran who served on a Destroyer throughout World War II, both in Europe and in the Pacific. He is a delightfully funny guy, and it was a pleasure hearing and recording his story. I've had the honor of talking with many of these patriots throughout this project, but it never fails to impress me how selflessly they served and how modest they are about the sacrifices they made to preserve our freedom. Wayne signed up early on the morning of December 8th, 1941, and kept fighting until the war was over. Thanks, Wayne!

And that, my friends, pretty much sums up my weekend. I hope yours was as satisfying and fun as mine was, and I hope this new week is off to a fantastic start. Have a great day!