Connections

Today, I'm going to share with you some behind-the-scenes insights into my blog process. It's a little scary, but I'll try to filter out the truly horrifying stuff. Anyway, if you are uncomfortable with descriptions of mental abnormalities, you may excuse yourself and return tomorrow.

You see, today's blog was supposed to be about the indoor triathlon I did on Sunday. But due to a perfect storm of schedule pressures, senior moments, and unexpected difficulty in deciding which shoes to wear, I wandered out of my apartment this morning without remembering to bring the data stick with race photos on it. And I can't very well do a race report blog without the supporting photos, can I?

So -- I decided to write a blog to apologize for the delay in posting the race summary. What follows is a review of the mental process that occurred once that decision was made, and how it led to these guys:





Let's start by explaining the fellow at the top of the post. James Burke is a science historian, who authored a series of books and television programs called "Connections." His focus was on how each modern invention is dependent on a series of previous innovations, none of which would be possible without every one of its predecessors.

For example, one episode of the TV series drew the connections between the invention of the pike (basically a long pointed stick) and space travel. I'm simplifying, but it went something like this: When long pikes were brought to battle, they added distance to what had been close-quarters combat. This led to changes in battle tactics, which led to circumstances that enabled siege to be used as a war strategy. Sieges forced people to innovate in ways to store food for such circumstances, which eventually led to the invention of canning as a food preservation technology. Efforts to improve canning then led to refrigeration, which eventually enabled the field of cryonics, which allowed for liquefaction of hydrogen and oxygen, which could then be used to propel the space shuttle. Makes perfect sense, right?

Connections.

So, when I thought about explaining why I was late in presenting the triathlon blog, I wanted to start off with an example of some well-known event that could be used as a metaphor for unintentional tardiness. And that, of course, led me to think of Darmok at Tanagra.

Therefore, I was going to title the post "What if Darmok was Late to Tanagra?" but that seemed clumsy. What about "Darmok and Jalad at Tanya Harding?" No...too much of a stretch. "Darmok and Jalad at Torquemada?" Well, maybe.

But then I realized I didn't know anything about Torquemada. A quick search revealed that he looks a lot like Balok...so that explains the first of the connections photos. For those of you who also didn't know what Torquemada looked like, you're welcome.

FYI: Torquemada -- no relation to Peter Tork, by the way -- was a Grand Inquisitor in the Spanish Inquisition (which nobody expects), and quite the nasty fellow. I doubt that he would fall for the Corbomite Manuever.

Anyway, the process of mentally playing with the words "Darmok" and "Jalad" naturally led me to realize that I wasn't really sure of the spellings. I thought Jalad might have been spelled "Gilad," which naturally made me think of Gil Gerard, who costarred with Twiki the robot, which led to the subsequent picture. I won't talk about him now, since I have ranted elsewhere about how Twiki was a disgrace to the entire concept of robotics, and was rumored to have prompted Isaac Asimov to consider a Fifth Law which stated "Robots that are astonishingly annoying shall be disassembled and used to make transistor radios and Cadillac bumpers." (This is also known as the "C3PO Rule.")

Anyway, in my addled brain, Twiki morphed to Twinkie, so I looked for a picture of Weird Al's favorite food -- a Twinkie Weiner Sandwich (which you really should try sometime). And of course, you can't think of Twiki without also thinking of Tweek, the over-caffeinated twitchy kid from South Park.

See how this works? And the best part is that the search for photos to illustrate the blog's concepts always leads to discoveries of unknown Internet gems, such as this photo of Twinkie the Kid stalking Mr. Vader and his oblivious stormtroopers.

And that, my friends, is why I love this hobby.

Anyway, I will post the race report soon, and will also eventually get to the Celebrity Look-Alikes post, which will feature the aforementioned Gil Gerard, along with a few other actors that I sometimes confuse with someone else. (Not Dick York and Dick Sargent, though -- I can tell them apart.)

That's all for the moment. Thanks for reading, and have a great day!

Training is Draining

Part of my life's good fortune consists of being surrounded by people who inspire and motivate me. I am truly thankful for the opportunity to surround myself with outstanding athletes who challenge me to become better.

One of those role models is my friend Erin, who designs the gym workouts we do each Tuesday morning. Every week is different; new muscle groups are challenged in new ways. We do everything from pushups to jumping rope to endless variations of situps, planks, and lunges.

Yesterday was her birthday, and whether it was related to that fact or not, she came up with a deceptively evil set of exercises for us to do. I felt like the workout was hard, but not anything beyond what we had done before. And then I woke up this morning...and tried to move.

Oh, the pain!

My hamstrings and glutes are on fire, and I involuntarily scream every time I have to get up from my chair. My triceps and lats are aching, and raising my arms requires a concerted effort. These are the days when I really appreciate my crew cut coiffure...because if I had to comb my hair, I don't think I could reach up to do it.

I'm OK with that. If I'm going to get in shape to compete well this summer and fall, I'm going to need to push myself a bit more than I have been. Sore muscles are part of the feedback loop you have to have to train intelligently. It's glaringly obvious that many of my muscles haven't been pushed to where they need to be.

I want to get strong and fit, and I'm at a point where I think I might be able to put forth the effort required to do that. My body certainly doesn't recover as quickly as it used to, but I will just have to factor that parameter into my training program.

I know that most of the people who read this blog are well-focused athletes. I would love it if you would share some of your motivational tips with me. What gives you the determination to work hard? What are your secrets for dealing with days when everything hurts? What triggers your inner Ferrigno? Please let me know. Thanks.

I'd also be curious to know if anyone has any interesting stories about how they became inspired to become an athlete in the first place. I'd love to swap stories and share some of them online.

For me, it began when my best friend, Herbie Bevan, invited me to join the Harvest Park swim team. I was already hanging out at the pool most of the day anyway, and Herbie pointed out that some of the cute neighborhood girls would be on the team as well.

Little did I know that more than 50 years later, swimming would still be a central focus in my life. Perhaps in future posts, I'll reminisce about all-day swim meets under the blazing hot Kansas sun, or the stabbing eyeball pain that came from swimming for hours in chlorine soup in the years before goggles were invented. I have stories about diving to retrieve frogs from the deep end, learning the "bellybuster" style of racing dive (performed where the pool is not marked with "No Diving" signs), and being astounded by the sight of coach Ed Poley somehow swim an entire 50 meters underwater.

But those tales are for another day. Today, the snow continues to fall, and my legs continue to ache. All I can think about is taking a nice hot bath and then crawling under a thick warm blanket for a good night's sleep. Then I'll be ready to face additional exercise tortures tomorrow.

Have a great day!

Dif-tor Heh Smusma

It's impossible to know what my life would have been like without Leonard Nimoy.

Perhaps I'd have still been fascinated with science, space travel, and humanity's place in the Universe. After all, I was born at precisely the right time to be totally engrossed in the programs that led to mankind's "giant leap." Alan Sheppard was my first personal hero. Major Astro hosted my favorite childhood TV program. Roger Ramjet, Scott McCloud, and Space Ghost kept aerospace-related topics in front of my eyeballs throughout my formative years.

I also suspect that I was born with an innate affinity for math, science, and logic. Even without Mr. Nimoy, I may very well have ended up on the same path I have traveled. I may have had the same career, and many of the same interests.

But I would not be the same person. Mr. Spock changed my life.

I won't burden you with all the sad details, but I had already become a fan of the Enterprise's emotionless Vulcan officer when the most emotional event of my life occurred. My mom died of breast cancer on October 23, 1967...and I was devastated. I had no idea how to deal with this horrific loss. I loved her SO MUCH -- and suddenly, she was gone. As a child on the cusp of puberty, I was not equipped for this.

Mr. Spock became my role model. It seemed logical to conclude that the best way to deal with the situation was to eliminate emotions, and to get on with life sans feelings. My ears weren't pointed, and my blood wasn't green, but I did my best to adopt a Vulcan mindset.

Of course, a more mature viewer would've understood that Star Trek was full of counterexamples that proved the value of emotion. Human feelings are part of what makes life complete; they add flavor and color to our existence, and help us achieve our full worth.

It took me a long time to realize that those lessons were a part of what Spock brought to the Enterprise. But for many years, I tried my best to be impervious to the connections and commitments that grow out of having feelings. This attitude certainly contributed to my "shy" phase, and to my well-deserved reputation as a dateless nerd.

The Spock haircut I wore probably had something to do with it as well.

I'll try to find a photo of that haircut and include it in a future post. I think you'd be impressed. Anyway, much has been written in other places about my journey out of self-induced solitude and into my current level of moderate sociability...so I won't subject you to those stories here. (I still have books for sale, if you're truly interested.) But the bottom line is that what I learned from Mr. Spock (and Star Trek in general) provided me with a foundation upon which to build my life.

The quality and value that my life contributes to society is for other people to judge. But I am generally a happy person, and my happiness grows even greater whenever I think of my spacefaring friends within the United Federation of Planets.

The bottom line is that I shall be eternally grateful to Leonard Nimoy for bringing Mr. Spock to life. I also thank Gene Roddenberry, the rest of the cast, and a host of talented writers who each contributed to Mr. Spock's enduring legacy. But today, I primarily celebrate the life of the actor who portrayed him (and many other characters) throughout a long and distinguished career. Thanks for existing, Leonard!



I can't possibly improve on Kirk's "his was the most (sob) human!" speech, so I'll skip the eulogy and go right to the musical critique.

I bought the album shown at the top of this post in the mid 70s, and from day one it has been one of my most cherished possessions. For those of you who do NOT own a copy, the good news is that you can hear most of these songs on the Internet.

Was Nimoy a good singer? Well, let me put it this way: His talent approaches the musical heights achieved by the likes of Shatner and Takei. He's no Nichelle Nichols, but you can tell that he was influenced by Charles Napier at some point in his musical evolution.

Anyway, there's one bit of trivia I find interesting. The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour was on during roughly the same timeframe as Star Trek, so when I saw songwriter John Hartford on the SmoBros, I was struck by his resemblance to Leonard Nimoy. Then when I got the "2 Sides" album, I noticed that it contained "Gentle on My Mind," which was written by Hartford. Small Universe, eh, Mr. Roykirk?

So, with that in mind, I will leave you with one of my favorite John Hartford songs. It has nothing whatsoever to do with celebrating our favorite Vulcan's life, but perhaps the song's odd exuberance will bring a smile to our faces as we contemplate how much richer our lives are for having been blessed with the talents of Leonard Nimoy. LLAP and have a great day!