String Theory

"Consistency is the hallmark of a worthy blogger." -- Mark Twain

"Boil the kettle, Mother." -- The Id

Obviously, I am neither consistent, nor boiling the kettle. You would think that with my reduced work schedule, I'd have boo-coo (that's French for "lots of") time for intellectual pursuits such as bloggery and philosophicating. But no. Just as there is no excuse for French people inserting unnecessary and unpronounced letters into their words, I am afraid that I have no legitimate excuse for my recent sloth.

Perhaps I'm somehow metaphysically conjoined with the Colorado Rockies. Or perhaps my mental impotence is somehow a reflection of what's going on in Washington DC these days. Or maybe it's some sort of cosmic seasonal slump brought on by the configuration of the Earth's magnetic field during the Solstice.

It certainly can't be laziness. Can it?

Anyway, about a bazillion fascinating things have happened since I last posted. I would love to share them all with you -- but time constraints and senility make that impossible. Ergo, we shall merely brush by a few highlights.

Let us begin with something really cool. I earned my certification as a Level 3 USMS Certified Swim Coach. Whoo hoo!



Because I have been validated by an official Governing Body, it will now cost you 3 times as much to receive my expert coaching advice. So the next time I tell you to work harder and stop being such a slacker, well, brother -- you'd better do it! I have a certification!

In truth, the USMS training classes were pretty good, and I did pick up some good tips from the instructors...and from the other coaches. It also reminded me of the many reasons I enjoy coaching so much. I'm a very lucky guy to be able to get paid to do this, and to hang around with all the outstanding athletes and upstanding human beings that make up the Foothills Masters Swim Team.

And yes, we will be getting new team t-shirts soon. Awesome!

One thing that's worth mentioning: The current official USMS euphemism for "old farts" is now "seasoned athletes." I'll probably have trouble remembering that one, so you may have to remind me that it is also supposed to replace "geezers," "fossils," and "dinosaurs" in the swim coach's vocabulary.

The good news is that anyone who is older than me is SOOOO "seasoned" that they probably can't remember what I called them, anyway. I shall try to be politically correct, but will hope you'll forgive me for the occasional slip-up. (I'm trying to remember not to call chicks "broads," too, but that's gonna be a struggle as well. Sigh.)

Anyway, on a related topic, I also decided to pursue certification as a personal trainer. I have plunked down a couple months' salary on training materials from the National Academy of Sports Medicine, which is reputed to be one of the most respected certifying agencies. From the materials I've studied so far, I'd have to say that I think it's going to be a great program. It's been a long time since I've studied hard for anything, but I think this will be worth it.

Here's a strange side note: My memories from college consist mostly of recollections of pranks, yelling matches with the dorm across the street, and unrequited lust for the hot girls who strolled braless across the campus. It's really tough to summon up any memories of studying, being engaged in classes, or, in fact, learning of any kind. Hmmm.

Actually, that's not entirely true. I learned a LOT about old movies, dubbed Japanese TV programs, and the emotional struggles of Kwai Chang Caine. And I memorized hundreds of pages of Star Trek and Beverly Hillbillies dialog. Education WAS taking place...it just probably wasn't the kind the University thought it was giving me.

As you know, I majored in Journalism, with an emphasis in Radio/TV/Film -- so my hours spent in front of the TV set were a fine and complementary supplement to the time spent in the classroom. Because I intended to be a Media Mogul, I paid special attention to the folks who worked in the broadcast arts. I soon learned that the profession might not be populated with the best and brightest...at least not on the Kansas City area's UHF stations.

"Dialing for Dollars" was a feature that took place during breaks in the afternoon movie. For a short time, the host was a young blond gal whose intelligence and eloquence hinted strongly that she got her job by leveraging romance with studio executives rather than by talent and skill. My favorite moment on the show was when she asked a caller to answer which Wizard of Oz character was portrayed by Ray Bolger. The guy on the phone answered quickly, "The Scarecrow." The bimbo hostess looked at her answer card, and told the caller "No, I'm sorry...it was the Straw Man," and hung up.

This was not an Alex Trebekian need for precision in the response. The obvious fact was that this broad, er, I'm sorry...this chick did not have a clue that scarecrows could be made of straw. I suspect she was one of those people who never made it past the first appearance of Margaret Hamilton, and was also convinced that Munchkins were real.

Ahh. There were indeed moments where I enjoyed being in college.

But being an independent adult means that these days, I have to do productive stuff every now and then. Clean house. Get organized. Etc.

This weekend's project was to finally figure out how to store my mountain bike so that it wasn't just shoe-horned into the guest bathroom of my apartment. The solution was a freestanding bike rack I picked up at REI. It was easy to assemble, holds two bikes with ease, and doesn't take up much space at all. Of course, my road bike will spend most of its condo-time mounted on my fluid trainer, but I had to throw it up there for the photo.

It was a good weekend. I had an enjoyable swim at the pond, and a fun bike ride around Chatfield. My foot still hurts when I run, but I have already paid for a Milwaukee hotel room, so I am committed to competing in the National Championship Olympic Triathlon, even if I only complete the first two legs.

My final comment for the day has nothing to do with anything, but I found it interesting enough to share.

Well, I dunno, perhaps it does have something to do with my college major, since I did consider becoming an actor (until it became obvious that I had no talent). Anyway, the point is that I saw the fellow pictured here, and it made me think about ambitions, career choices, and lifetime legacies.

This guy got his picture on a shooting target poster. He may or may not be a model or actor who will occasionally show up as an extra on The Big Bang Theory or something. My guess is that he's a guy who works for a target manufacturer. Either way, though, he is now immortalized as a guy that gun enthusiasts across the country enjoy plugging full of holes. I found myself wondering about the impact that this poster has had on his life. Is he proud of it, keeping copies hung in every room of his home? Or is he afraid to walk into a liquor store for fear that the skittish owner won't be able to control his habituated firing reflex?

This is the kind of stuff I think about. I suppose it's no wonder that time gets away from me.

In many ways, I envy all of you normal people. At the same time, I think that life would be pretty dull if it weren't for the guys who are willing to proudly display their pudgy bald malevolence for all to see.

In any case, I do plan to get back to posting regularly. As always, thank you for dropping by. Have a great day!

(Oh, yeah, and work harder, and stop being a slacker!)