Requiem for a dream

I had a dream last night.  And as is the nature of dreams, this one was bizarre and inexplicable.  Details fade with wakefulness, but in this dream it was somehow important that I post 7 images of Los Angeles here on the blog.  As ridiculous as it might seem, I’m doing as my dream instructed.

The dream as far as I recall did not dictate any particular image to post.  But me in LA go way back so it wasn't hard to pick some that were meaningful to me.  The first time I visited Los Angeles was here at the Kaiser Foundation hospital on the day that I was born...

The dream as far as I recall did not dictate any particular image to post. But me and LA go way back so it wasn’t hard to pick some that were meaningful to me. The first time I visited Los Angeles was here at the Kaiser Foundation hospital on the day that I was born…

Olvera Street is the oldest street in LA.  I have memories of visiting here with the parents as a child and years later taking a gal who attended USC  I was dating here for authentic Mexican food...

Olvera Street is the oldest street in LA. I have memories of visiting here with the parents as a child and years later taking a gal who attended USC I was dating here for authentic Mexican food…

I was a big baseball fan growing up in southern Cal and of course my favorite team was the Dodgers.  My dad took me to my first game for my 10th birthday in 1965.  Lots more great times were had over the years in Chavez Ravine...

I was a big baseball fan growing up in southern Cal and of course my favorite team was the Dodgers. My dad took me to my first game for my 10th birthday in 1965. Lots more great times were had over the years in Chavez Ravine…

The LA skyline only looks like this approximately one day a year.  Seriously.  We the Santa Ana winds blow in from the desert it blows the smog out to sea and you can see the mountains that are otherwise invisible throughout the year.

The LA skyline only looks like this approximately one day a year. Seriously. When the Santa Ana winds blow in from the desert they push the smog out to sea and you can see the mountains that are otherwise invisible throughout the year.

I love old train stations.  I've been to Union Station in DC and Denver, 30th Street Station in Philadelphia, and Grand Central in NYC, but none are as fantastic as Union Station in LA.  Oddly enough, I never took a train to or from there.  But sometimes when I was in the neighborhood I'd just drop in to be amazed.

I love old train stations. I’ve been to Union Station in DC and Denver, 30th Street Station in Philadelphia, and Grand Central in NYC, but none are as fantastic as Union Station in LA. Oddly enough, I never took a train to or from there. But sometimes when I was in the neighborhood I’d just drop in to be amazed.

The Port of Los Angeles.  My father was a Merchant Marine and when his ship came in so to speak we'd drive over the Vincent Thomas Bridge and pick him up...

The Port of Los Angeles. My father was a Merchant Marine and when his ship came in so to speak we’d drive over the Vincent Thomas Bridge and pick him up…

What would LA be without Koreatown?  Funny thing is when I lived in SoCal I knew nothing of it and cared less.  I rectified that a few years ago when I visited and lucked into an outstanding galbi house...

What would LA be without Koreatown? Funny thing is when I lived in SoCal I knew nothing of it and cared less. I rectified that a few years ago when I visited and lucked into an outstanding galbi house…

I started with the first time I was in LA and I'll finish with my last time--LAX.  I was making a connection to Seoul after a business trip to Phoenix.  The airport sucks.

I started with the first time I was in LA and I’ll finish with my last time–LAX. I was making a connection to Seoul after a business trip to Phoenix. The airport sucks.

So here’s hoping this post has satisfied the whims of Morpheus and that tonight I will enjoy a restful and peaceful sleep.

The heart of the matter

Life can be a real pain in the neck sometimes.  Like these past 3 days for instance.  I mean, over the years I’ve had my share of what my father used to call “a crick in the neck” but I don’t recall anything quite like this.  The pain is excruciating but what is really weird is that while I have some side-to-side restricted motion, it’s the up-and-down that hurts the most.  I’ve been putting heat on the neck which seems to help and I slept without a pillow last night as well.  And of course I’m refraining from nodding my head in agreement.  Yep, I’m just one big old disagreeable bastard lately.

Anyway, we did our hike up to the Doseon temple yesterday and while Jee Yeun was enjoying her lunch her phone rings.  She talks awhile in her native tongue, hangs up, and matter-of-factly advises me that the hospital where we did our physical exams last week had been reviewing the results and discovered that the 3-D image of my heart reveals a 50% blockage in one of my arteries.  They wanted to know if I could make it in to visit a doctor prior to my scheduled appointment with the hilarious Dr. Yu on the 24th.  Well.

Honestly, I’ve been sweating out the results of my physical a bit given that I experience a fair amount of discomfort surrounding my internal organs.  I don’t think a heart blockage would be the cause of that.  So, if this is my worst result I’ll consider myself lucky.  I don’t know if that’s the case though–have they checked the chest x-ray yet?  What about the biopsy they did on the sample from my stomach?  Or the ultrasound of those painful organs?  I’ll admit I was a little disconcerted that the hospital apparently thought I shouldn’t wait another week to see Dr. Yu.  So, I’m going back to Soonchunhwang tomorrow morning to see what’s up.  I’m supposedly going to be meeting with an English-speaking doctor as well, so there’s that.

Of course, I’ve scoured the internets to bone up on coronary artery disease.  Kills more people in the USA than any other malady and 13 million folks suffer its affects in varying degrees.  The good news is that a 50% blockage doesn’t normally require surgery–it’s treated with medication, diet and exercise.  I’m actually disappointed though because my previous exam two years ago showed a 30% blockage and I’ve been working the diet and exercise routine for over a year now–apparently without positive results.  But if the normal treatment is to put me on Lipitor or some other atorvastatin drug I don’t get the urgency to see me prior to my scheduled appointment one week later.  Perhaps it’s just an overabundance of caution on their part.  Which is the same reason I’m going in the morning.  Plus I don’t want to worry about this for another week.

Looks like I picked a bad time to restart watching episodes of House…

Hey kid, how’d you like a nice Hertz donut?

*smack* Hurts, don’t it?

As painful as that joke might be it is nothing compared to what has been going on in my mouth these past few days.  I had a tooth start bothering me a couple of weeks ago so I went to visit the dentist.  S/He advised that the tooth I was complaining about had previously been subjected to a root canal so I shouldn’t be experiencing any problems there.  S/He speculated it was probably just a bit of an infection and prescribed antibiotics.  And also filled three cavities.

So this Tuesday the tooth with no nerve began hurting like a motherfucker.  I could knock the pain down for a couple of hours at a time by taking heavy doses of Advil and/or Tylenol.  I even used some of Jee Yeun’s prescription pain pills left over from her shoulder surgery but they didn’t help much either.  After a mostly sleepless night, I went back in to see .  S/He once again diagnosed an abscess below the tooth, did a little leveling off of said tooth to even my bite, and prescribed more antibiotics.

Wednesday night was also mostly sleepless and pain-wracked and Jee Yeun, bless her heart, got sick of hearing my whinging hated to see me suffer so she insisted I visit the dental clinic down the street.  When we hit the street at 10:00 a.m. it looked like a scene from a disaster movie.  Throngs of people pushing and shoving to get into a massive line of jam packed buses.  Never seen anything like that so I immediately figured something must be up with the subway.  It was.  Fortunately, we were walking to the dentist so we were able to observe the madhouse without actually participating in it.

Jee Yeun told me this dentist is very famous and related to the family in some distant way and that people come for all over the country for his services.  She stressed we had to get there early to get on the list of walk-ins.  When we arrived there were 3 folks ahead of us, which didn’t seem too bad.  And then the receptionist came out and apologetically announced that the doctor would not be in until 3:00 p.m.  Apparently he was doing some charity work that morning which is admirable, although it did not reduce the ache in my tooth in the slightest.

Back to the apartment for more aspirin and the brief interludes of comfort it provided.  I had also been applying heat in the form of a damp towel microwaved to a level of warmth right below that used for skin removal.  I don’t know if it helped, but it didn’t hurt.  Jee Yeun insisted I should be applying cold to the tooth.  I explained that Dr.  had specifically advised me to apply heat and s/he said that people who used cold were doing it wrong.  Armed with info she found on the internet Jee Yeun called the dentist’s office to say that heat wasn’t working.  Shortly thereafter Dr.  called my phone and asked how I was doing.  “I’ve been better” I truthfully responded.  S/He suggested I return to her office the following afternoon and she would remove my crown to try and relieve “pressure”.  By this point I was ready to tell her to just yank the damn thing out altogether and be done with it.

Meanwhile I’d gotten a text asking me to sub on a team in the Thursday night dart league.  I was inclined at first to decline given my condition but then I figured if I was going to suffer regardless I may as well suffer doing something I enjoy.  The pain was in an aspirin induced remission when I got on the subway, but by the team we reached Samgakji station the tooth was screaming again.  So I ate some Advil dry and continued on to the Bull and Barrel.  The dentist had advised me not not drink while taking the antibiotics and I had pushed back a little asking “why?”  S/he gave me some bullshit about making the body weaker so as not to be able to fight the infection.  So, I hadn’t been drinking and I ordered up a diet Coke at the bar but for the record it was only because I didn’t feel like drinking not some whacky doctor’s orders.

By the time I had finished my second Coke the pain had again subsided and the dart match was ready to begin.  I prefer to play darts while maintaining a finely tuned chemical balance that provides a maximum level of confidence and relaxation. Achieving this state of mind normally requires the consumption of beer, so I ordered up a Cass.  It tasted good and went down smooth so I had another.  And another.

Now, it could be that the antibiotics finally kicked in and killed that nasty infection.  Or it could be Cass beer contains some unadvertised healing powers.  All I know is that I slept through the night for the first time in days.  I awoke pain free and have been pain free ever since.

Which leads me to the point I wanted to make when I sat down to write this overly-long post.  Pain sucks.  I have zero tolerance for pain. That pain can even be allowed to exist in the 21st century strikes me as being particularly inhumane.  Pain I think is very subjective and very personal.  No one else can feel your pain nor can you feel theirs.  So, how does one truly measure pain.  When someone says “I have a high tolerance for pain” I don’t think they are in any way stronger than me, I just figure their pain is not as severe.

See, as I wrote about this experience with pain I knew some reader somewhere would be thinking “what a fuckin’ pussy.  He ‘gets a damn toothache and makes a big deal about it.  Why doesn’t he just man up and handle it in silence?”

Fuck that.  That tooth hurt so bad I literally could not sit still.  Moving around didn’t help either, but Jesus, I couldn’t just sit there and take it.  So maybe that does make me a wuss.  I’ll tell you this though, I certainly appreciated that scene in Castaway where Tom Hanks removes his tooth with an ice skate.  You reach a point where you just can’t stand it anymore.  I guess my pain intolerance does not bode well for my future.  I will not be one of those brave souls who withstand immense pain while battling cancer.  Just put a pillow over my face and let me be done with it.  Please.

Seven days

Nats

One week to go before I fly. Still to be done:

  • Complete getting my papers together so I’m prepared to apply for an F-6 spouse visa in Korea.  Technically, most of the documentation Jee Yeun needs to supply but I’ll want to bring the marriage certification and my proof of income.  I’ve not seen anything about a police background check, so hopefully that won’t be an issue.
  • Tonight is my final appearance in the Pointless Dart League for awhile.
  • Hope that I get the promised letter from the Social Security Administration so I can go downtown and be provided a social security number for Jee Yeun.
  • Then I need to take said SSN to my accountant and complete my income taxes.
  • Head out to Augusta, GA Friday morning to compete in the Garden City Classic dart tournament.  That will keep me busy all weekend. I’ll be playing in the first National qualifier that I actually earned my way into (i.e. paid entry).  I don’t have any illusions about making it to the Nationals.  It would be interesting if I did however, seeing as how those will be held in Charlotte in April.  I’m guessing the American Darts Organization would balk at paying my airfare from Korea.  We’ll see.  I’ll also be doing all the other usual events.  I’ve hooked up with the #5 ranked female player in the country for mixed doubles which should be interesting.  I’m sure I’m the worst male partner she’s ever had, but maybe I’ll surprise her (and myself!).
  • Clean out the refrigerators and cabinets of everything perishable.
  • Final visit with the kids.  Make arrangements for bringing in my mail once a week and mowing the lawn periodically.
  • Prepare some priority mail envelopes and customs forms for anything I need to have forwarded to me in Korea.
  • Visit the credit union and withdraw some cash so I’ll be ready to hit the money exchange in Korea.
  • Go to the Lids store to pick up the Washington Nationals baseball cap I special ordered (black with white trim).  In Korea it will be the hat I wear for darts.  And the “W” will be re-purposed to stand for “The Walrus”.  Of course.
  • Make my final appearance of the season in the Monsters of the Midlands Pub League.
  • Pack a suitcase. And I mean one (each).  Delta charges $100 for a second bag on international flights.  Fuck that.  We’ll get everything into a suitcase and maximize our carry-on bags.  This isn’t too hard for me as I had the foresight to leave a fair amount of clothing behind in Korea.  Jee Yeun will utilize whatever leftover space I have in my suitcase. Although I was forced to concede we’d need to bring an extra suitcase home with us (the one filled up with mama’s kimchi).
  • Be driven to the Charlotte airport Wednesday morning to catch our flight to Detroit and after a short layover, a direct flight to Incheon.  I’ve connected in Detroit before without much trouble (it’s actually easier to move about than Atlanta or Chicago).  I’m just hoping this crazy ass winter weather is over so we don’t encounter delays or cancellations.  Not much I can do about that though.

And that’s my to do list.  If everything goes according to plan we’ll be arriving at our Gireum-dong apartment Thursday night.  And I’ll be playing darts at Pub Dolce Vita in Itaewon on Friday night.  And that’s the way I like it.  Uh huh, uh huh.

 

 

Glory days

When I was a freshman in high school I ran on the cross country team.  Back then, the course was two miles long (by the time my kids competed it was 3 miles).  I was not the top runner on the team by far, but my best time of 10.56 minutes was fairly respectable, especially for a 9th grader.  Our star varsity runner was somewhere in the mid-nine minute range.  So, I think it is fair to say I had potential and I did work hard, never missing practice and the like.

So, it was pretty shocking when near the end of the season Coach Hedges told me get a haircut or I was off the team.  The truth of the matter is that my hair was not even that long (certainly not over my ears or in my eyes or anything).  And what I found especially irksome was my hair was every bit as short as the aforementioned star varsity player.  I mentioned that fact to the coach and then I was off the team.  And thus began my rebellious phase.

I mention this now after all these years because I didn’t realize at the time that my Constitutional rights had been violated.   The 7th Circuit Court says a short hair requirement for boys that doesn’t apply to girls is a violation of the equal protection clause and constitutes sex discrimination.

I just figured Coach Hedges was an asshole. Instead, I was a victim of government oppression and didn’t even know it.  No big deal, just one of those bumps along the road of life that cause a change of direction.  But of course, that changes everything.

Hat Tip: Althouse

“A standing military force, with an overgrown Executive, will not long be safe companions to liberty.”

james-madison

So said James Madison with whom I’m a kindred spirit if this personality test is to be believed.

I’ve done the Myers-Briggs assessment several times (the government enjoyed spending tax dollars on that type of thing).  This test was similar, but of a lesser scope (only 50 questions). I’d say these results are reasonably accurate:

Compared to the general population, you are:

  • Below average on Extroversion, indicating that you are an introvert who prefers calm environments to large social gatherings.
  • Above average on Openness, indicating that you prefer to strike a balance between seeking out novelty and preserving the status quo.
  • Average on Agreeableness, indicating that you alternate between being tenderhearted in some situations and tough-minded in others.
  • Average on Conscientiousness, indicating that you take a balanced approach between sticking to plans and deadlines and being flexible about updating your current goals.
  • Average on Neuroticism, indicating that you respond adequately to changes in your environment and feel some measure of stress under pressure without letting it get to you.

Which President are you most like?

Unrewarded effort or just deserts?

It is frustrating to actually work hard at losing weight only to weigh-in and discover that you’ve in fact gained poundage.

I’ve been diligent about the treadmill (one hour a day +/- 3.5 miles).  And I’ve gotten off my ass and practiced my dart game an additional hour a day.  That may not be much, but it’s lots more than I was doing when I was shedding pounds like snake skin over the past year.

What’s changed?  I expect it may have something to do with metabolism.  I’m no longer smoking cigarettes which could be a factor.  I haven’t noticed myself eating more, as I still typically only have one regular meal a day.  I snack on cheese, nuts, and celery.  Although I do flavor the celery with peanut butter.  My only real “cheating” has been my inability to resist having a delicious smoothie periodically during the week.  But how bad can that be?

My smoothie consists of a handful of strawberries, a banana, a dollop of peanut butter, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and some milk.  OK, maybe that is pretty bad.  But still, I usually do that in lieu of eating a normal meal.  I wouldn’t think I’d be punished so severely for such a small deviation from the low carbohydrate reservation.

The other possibility is that I’m playing darts four times a week.  And while that is itself a form of exercise, I’m sure those benefits are counteracted by my ingestion of several (low-carb) beers.  Hmm.

Anyway, this week finds me back to 233.5 pounds, a gain of two from last week.  I’m going to keep with the program and maybe add a little more exercise.  I could probably ride the stationary bike while watching TV.  And drinking a smoothie.

 

 

 

Everything old is new again

Later this year I will celebrate ten years of blogging here at LTG.  And what a celebration it will be!  Or not.

I really only mention this as a way of bringing to your attention this blog from Will Wilkinson lamenting the death of “old school blogging”.  Now, given my propensity for bad writing you may consider LTG an example of “no school” blogging.  But at least I haven’t sold out.  Which I guess would apply to any other purveyor of shit–“yes, it stinks.  But I have lots more where that came from!”  Ha, I may make that my blog’s new tagline.

Anyway, Mr. Wilkinson is a writer and if his Wikipedia entry is any indication, a really, really, smart guy.   But my first reaction to his Old School post was similar to that of Althouse: “What is this ‘old school’ blogging you speak of?  An aversion to paragraph breaks?”  Which actually made me laugh out loud.

Moving on to the substance of the matter, Wilkinson uses a bunch of $10 words that I don’t really understand and am too lazy to look up to make the case that blogging for money is new school and laments the loss of the purity of the old school blogger:

The idea that the self is an “illusion” tends to be grounded on the false assumption that if the self is anything at all, it must be a stable inward personal quiddity available to introspection. But of course there is no such thing. The Zen masters are right.

I truthfully just don’t know what to say about that.  In part because I have no freakin’ idea what the hell he is talking about.  In her response, Althouse offers this:

What do the Zen masters say about purity? Hei Neng said: “If you cherish the notion of purity and cling to it, you turn purity into falsehood. Purity has neither form nor shape, and when you claim an achievement by establishing a form known as purity… you are purity bound.”

Which I suppose makes more sense on a level just beyond my total comprehension.

Taking the intellectualism down a notch, this is what made me wade all the way through Wilkinson’s interminable paragraph:

Every time I’ve been hacked and had to take the blog offline, it felt a little like an amputation. A blog is a sort of history of one’s mind, like a diary or a journal, but it’s public and that makes a huge difference.

See, I can relate to that sentiment.  There have been a couple of times when it appeared I was going to lose almost ten years of blogging history and it really did feel like an amputation.  I don’t pretend to have anything profound, unique, or particularly interesting to say here, and lord knows I don’t express myself in a fashion that warrants any consideration other than as a bad example.  Which might explain why I only have a handful of loyal readers (assuming small hands).  But what I share here is a part of me that would not otherwise be expressed.  And yes, most of it is bullshit.  As is most of life in general.

I don’t know if that makes me “old school” or not.  But LTG is an important part of my history and I’ll continue writing that history until I have nothing left to say.  And that’s never stopped me before!

 

 

 

Two things I haven’t done this year

1. I have not posted anything here on the blog.

2. I haven’t smoked a cigarette.

So, I guess technically speaking there is now only one thing I haven’t done this year.  Of those two at least.  And I can live without ever smoking again.  Which is actually the point of quitting, right?

I’m not going to say it’s been easy.  Although truth be told quitting is easy.  It’s the staying quit that’s the hard part.  But I’m chock full of good intentions this time.  I still get the urge to smoke of course, especially when I’m alone or with somebody.  Ha ha, I love my sense of humor!  But seriously, there are moments when I really want to inhale some nicotine.  Like while I’m writing this post.  Or when I’m playing darts.  And so when I’m feeling an overwhelming need, I reach out to my new best friend for comfort:

njoykings

Is that cheating?  Who cares?  Yes, it’s a nicotine fix.  But it ain’t the nicotine that is scarring my lungs.  And it’s really just a crutch until I can walk away completely on my own.  And I’m getting there.

Speaking of walking, I’ve rededicated myself to six hours a week on the treadmill.  So far, so good.  It’s just been a few days but I do feel better already.  I do the treadmill in the morning and an hour of darts practice in the afternoon.  Usually with a nap in between.  It’s a pretty sweet routine.

In other news, I did my first dart tourney of the year this past weekend up in Charlotte.  I threw better than I usually do, and even managed to to finish in the money.

With my partner J.R. we managed a Top 8 finish in 501 and a Top 4 finish in Cricket.

With my partner J.R. we managed a Top 8 finish in 501 and a Top 4 finish in Cricket.

And that’s about all I’ve got to say about 2014.  At least so far.  It did start well though.

I'm wearing my bomber jacket!  Ready for Itaewon!

I’m wearing my bomber jacket! Ready for Itaewon!

Happy New Year!

 

The scales of injustice

scale

I have not reported on my personal Battle of the Bulge lately.  Mostly because there has been nothing much to report.  Once I crossed the 50 pounds lost threshold (228 pounds) I’ve encountered the proverbial brick wall.  I’ve been bouncing around from a low of 225 to a high of 230 since then.  This morning I was disappointed to see a 2 1/2 pound gain from last week leaving me at a bloated 229.5.

It’s my own damn fault of course.  I’ve been extraordinarily lazy of late.  I managed a whopping two hours total treadmill time last week.  That and the fact that I’m playing darts four days a week now (Tue/Wed/Fri/Sun).  Which is not to say that darts isn’t good exercise. After all, it does require you to get off your sorry ass and actually move around some.  No, the problem with darts activity is that I normally consume several bottles of aiming fluid (aka beer) during a match.  Even at a low 2.6 carbohydrate grams per bottle that adds up.  So, I need to rededicate myself to my exercise regimen and show greater discipline in resisting temptation (damn your smoothies Jee Yeun!).

In other health related news, I’ve begun the process to becoming a non-smoker in 2014.  I’ve been taking Chantix for a week now.   I’ve taken it before with some success–over a year smoke free until my mother’s death knocked me off the wagon–and it does seem to curb my craving for nicotine.  According to the warning label the side effects include nausea, headache, vomiting, drowsiness, gas, constipation, trouble sleeping, unusual dreams, or changes in taste.  And oh yeah, suicidal thoughts and depression.  Luckily for me, all I get are the unusual dreams and gas.  Well, truth be told I can’t say that I’m more gassy than normal, but my normal tends to be a lot.  But for me, the dreams are the best part.  I find myself looking forward to going to bed wondering what I will dream tonight.  Vivid, detailed, and bizarre is how I’d describe my nocturnal excursions.  Certainly better than anything I’ve seen on TV lately!

So that’s my story.  Wish me luck!

A working class hero is something to be

From the gallery of Trevor King.

From the gallery of Trevor King.

Amongst my admittedly small social circle are several folks whose career path has led them to join the ranks of academia as university professors.  I’m sorry to admit I know little of their individual journeys and the challenges they faced and overcame along the way.  So I really appreciated this post written by Dr. Colby King, recently ensconced at Bridgewater State University in Massachusetts.  I’ve always had a great deal of respect for Colby, especially because he is one of my few left-of-center friends who is willing to actually  engage in a serious discussion of some of the issues facing our nation.  We rarely reach agreement but we do find on occasion some common ground or at least mutual understanding of our respective viewpoints.  Most importantly, I always learn something new and for that he earns my gratitude.  My respect and understanding were greatly enhanced after learning more about his personal story.  I encourage you to give it a read.

Being the selfish bastard that I am, Colby’s story set me to thinking of my own.  I grew up in an upper middle class area of Orange County, California.  But our family was definitely working class.  My father was managing a fast food restaurant when I was born.  After a McDonald’s opened across the street from his store, “The Rite Spot”, there was a futile burger war (it’s hard to undercut a 15 cent hamburger) and my father moved on to driving a truck in route sales.  My mother supplemented the family income first as a carhop and later working the night shift in a factory.

We always had food on the table (lots of fried chicken and ground beef).  We had a roof over our heads (a rented roof of a 1940s era house surrounded by fancy new subdivisions).  And we had clothes on our backs (in my case usually hand-me-downs).  So we weren’t “poor” in the classic sense of the word, but comparatively speaking we were amongst the poorest people in our community.

Kids can be cruel, and they were at times.  I recall classmates mocking “the shack” in which we lived.  And since my clothes were functional but not fashionable (and cleaned at the local laundromat) I took some heat for that too.  One painful memory from sixth grade was the day I wore some shoes my uncle brought home from the store where he worked.  They were a little too large for me, but they were new.  And I guess maybe they didn’t really go that well with the blue jeans I invariably wore to school.  Anyway, we were lining up for class and all the other kids pointed at my shoes and started laughing uproariously.  The teacher came out to see what all the commotion was, took a look at my shoes, and laughed too.  Needless to say, that was the first and last time I wore those shoes.  They looked something like this:

A painful memory.  Looking back on it now, maybe I would have laughed too.

A painful memory. Looking back on it now, maybe I would have laughed too.

Then there was the 7th grade math teacher (Mr. Peter Boothroyd the bastard) who found it appropriate to discipline misbehavior in his class by announcing “keep it up McCrarey and you’ll wind up like your father–selling Jello out of a truck.”  Suffice to say, by the time I finished high school I had developed a pretty healthy inferiority complex.  Which I self-medicated with copious amounts of pot smoking.

I floundered around some after graduation, taking a few classes at the community college but mostly just getting high and doing whatever minimum wage gigs I could find.  My daughter was born one week after I turned 20 and that kicked in a new found sense of responsibility.  So, I found a job in route sales (fuck you Boothroyd!) and actually did pretty well at it.  I took the Postal Service entrance exam and after a couple of years was hired as a letter carrier.  I was finally on my way!

I subsequently added a son to my family, transferred to Prescott, Arizona, and bought my first house.  I was living the American dream and was content to spend the rest of my life carrying mail and enjoying what for me was the best life I had known.  Then the marriage fell apart and I wound up with custody of both kids.  I started dating a grad student (I wrote about her in some detail here) and hanging out with her college professor friends at Northern Arizona University.  And probably for the first time in my life I started to realize that these people I admired were not better, or necessarily smarter, than me–just more educated.  So, it was back to the local community college for me!

The grad student relationship ended badly and left me pretty much emotionally devastated.  Being a single father was more than I could handle, so I transferred to Oklahoma (technically Fort Smith, Arkansas) so my mom could lend me a hand with the kids.  I was still delivering mail, but now I was doing it in stifling summer humidity and winter ice.  Made the job a lot less appealing!  Worst of all it was not mentally engaging.  As I carried my mail route I’d imagine doing things that I’d actually like to be doing.  And suddenly, I’d have completed my rounds and not recalled actually having done so.  I was just in automatic mode, mental masturbation if you will.  So, I realized that I needed to make a change in my life, but had no idea what exactly to do.

One perk of being a mailman (especially a single mailman) is that you tend to meet a lot of women along the route.  One of these was Iris Breed, the Director of the Fort Smith Girls Club.  One of the smartest people I’ve had the good fortune to meet on this road we call life.  We began dating and I shared with her my general dissatisfaction with the malaise of my career.  She said why don’t you take a management job?  Well.  I mean, who’d want a guy like me on the management team?  Besides, I was the union steward.  Working in management was against everything I stood for!  But she continued to encourage me and pointed out that the only thing I truly lacked in life was the confidence to pursue my goals.  So, when a job came open to manage the safety program I applied.  I knew nothing about safety management, but at least I felt like I could continue to support the rank and file from inside the beast.

Bobbie McLane was the Human Resources director and I had met her often when I dealt with her on union issues.  I guess she liked how I handled myself in those meetings because she took a leap and actually hired me.  And sent to the USPS Management Academy in Potomac, MD for several weeks so I could actually learn how to do the job.  I’m forever grateful to her for giving me that chance to be more than what I had been.  But the rest was up to me.

And I did alright I guess.  I was promoted to a labor relations position in Columbia, SC.  I went back to school (at an actual university–Go ‘Cocks!) and finally earned my bachelor’s degree in 1991 (at the tender age of 35).  After that, more promotions found me in D.C. where I took advantage of a management development program and graduate degree studies.  Thirty-four years after first putting on that letter carrier uniform I retired as GS-15 Director of Human Resources for the United States Forces Korea.

What a ride it was!  I had some luck along the way.  And help and encouragement from people that saw in me things I didn’t see in myself.  But ultimately, it was up to me to overcome my self-imposed limitations and find a way to achieve my potential.  Being from a working class background made that more of a challenge I suppose, but I’d argue that it wasn’t really society that put me in the box.  It just took some time to understand that no one can define who you are or what you can be, unless you give them that power.  Which sounds pretty simple when I write it now.  But learning that proved to be my life’s greatest achievement.

destiny

 

You get what you pay for

I was pleased this week that the crappy webpage I created for the Columbia Area Darts Association actually generated some results.  I heard from two people, one in Italy and one in Indiana, who are moving to Columbia soon and were happy to discover that they’ll be able to play darts when they arrive.  That was one of the main purposes that drove my purchasing a domain and web hosting service.  I remember how distressed I was when I moved back here and could find absolutely nothing about darts in the capital city.  At least I’ve remedied that sorry state of affairs.

In other news, I’m moving in the right direction weight-wise once again.  Once I had broken through the 50 pound barrier, I got a little bit too excited lazy and suffered weight gains in two successive weeks.  At this stage in my battle with fat I have to fight my body’s inclination to believe it has reached its ideal weight.  Which means I’ve had to kick it up a notch on the treadmill (six days a week) and show more discipline in resisting special treats like Jee Yeun’s smoothies.  Now, I’ve upped my darts to four days a week (Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday), and that does involve a fair amount of walking and standing around.  But I also indulge myself with low carb beer (2.5 grams per bottle). I usually have 4 or 5 of them which pretty much maxes out my target for daily carbohydrate intake.  Maybe that’s a wash, because I’d hate to cut back on “aiming fluid”.

Anyway, this week finds me at 226.5 pounds, down three from last week and 52 pounds overall.  I’m just as excited that I’ve taken another inch off my girth, down to 42″, a 9 1/2 inch reduction since February.

Onward and downward!

 

Nothing ventured, nothing lost

All I lost last week was some dart games.  My own damn fault really.  Too much time on the couch, not enough on the treadmill.  Got a little too cocky after breaking the 50 pound barrier I suppose.  That and my inability to resist Jee Yeun’s tasty smoothies.

One pound gain, puts me back at 228.5.  This week I am rededicating myself to being dedicated.

Onward and downward!

And the walls come tumbling down

 

Try strapping this on and carrying it around for oh say, years.

Try strapping this on and carrying it around for oh, say years.

Blasted into the 220s this week and also broke through the 50 pound barrier.  Week 29 of the LCHF lifestyle saw me drop 5 pounds to 227.5.  If you are keeping score at home that makes 51 pounds lost overall.  Also managed to lose an inch of that stubborn girth to bring my middle to 43″, an 8 1/2 inch reduction overall.

My 3XL shirts fit me like tents now.  On the other hand, some 2XLs that have been hanging unworn in the closet for a couple of years actually look good on me again.  I’m now wearing 38″ waist jeans (with a belt!).  And of course it feels great to not struggle so much with daily tasks like putting on my socks or picking up dropped darts.  Not to mention that laying down that 50 pound bag of rice just makes me feel better in general (no more pregnant woman style backaches!).

So, 12 pounds left to go to reach my target weight.  Then I can go into “maintenance mode”.  Meaning I might occasionally be able to enjoy some of the foods I’ve been missing the most.  Like a big fat baked potato to go with my steak.  And some ice cream for dessert!

Onward and downward!

"Are you sure the baby is mine"?   No, it's just a big ol' bag of rice.

“Are you sure the baby is mine”?
No, it’s just a big ol’ bag of rice.

UPDATE:  More good news.  Just did my BMI calculation and I’ve gone from being obese to just good ol’ fashioned overweight.

On this day in history

me

Ah, another birthday.  No great insights or wisdom to impart upon turning 58.  Although it can truthfully be said that I am less of a man than I used to be.

I’d say the worst thing about getting older is an acute awareness of the inescapable reality that the number of remaining birthdays is growing smaller.  Of course, that’s always been the case.  But now I recognize that my best case scenario is probably twenty or so more to go.  If I’m lucky.  Nevertheless, having a birthday sure as hell beats the alternative and by the time I finish this post I will have banished thoughts of mortality from my feeble brain.

On tap: Jee Yeun is taking me to her favorite place for breakfast–Waffle House.  And of course later I’ll be eating the traditional seaweed soup.  Tonight I’ll be heading downtown to scope out some darts venues and throw a few games.  I’d call that a good day!

What’s a birthday without a birthday song?  Here’s mine courtesy of Bob Dylan:

Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rollin’ high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps
“We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I
Proud ‘neath heated brow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
“Rip down all hate,” I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull. I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

Girls’ faces formed the forward path
From phony jealousy
To memorizing politics
Of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists
Unthought of, though, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

A self-ordained professor’s tongue
Too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty
Is just equality in school
“Equality,” I spoke the word
As if a wedding vow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach [no offense to Kevin Kim intended]
Fearing not that I’d become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My pathway led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow.
Ah, but I was so much older then,
I’m younger than that now.

http://youtu.be/XMea-eGmd8c

What goes around comes around

First place gets the money, second place gets a "nice try".  I like this photo because it's a little ambiguous about which is which...

First place gets the money, second place gets a “nice try”. I like this photo because it’s a little ambiguous about which is which…

The Columbia Area Darts Association (CADA) hosted it’s first ever qualifying event yesterday.  We had six players vying for paid entry ($110!) to the ADO Regional Cricket Qualifier next month in Charleston, SC.  It was a round robin format, with each player playing the other players 3 legs of Cricket.  Winner of the most legs on the day takes home the prize money.

I had a good day of darts, going 2-1, 3-0, 2-1, 2-1 and 1-2.  Well, the 1-2 at the end stung a little, but it was one of those situations where I threw well but my opponent threw better.  Nothing to be done about that.  Anyway, I’m the one in the photo above giving the money away.

After the darts were done, a group of us went out to try Columbia’s newest Korean restaurant–The Korea Garden.

Jee Yeun is the expert and she declared the food at Korean Garden to be excellent.  I  enjoyed the galbi and "ding dong" jiggae very much as well...

Jee Yeun is the expert and she declared the food at Korea Garden to be excellent. I enjoyed the galbi and “ding dong” jiggae very much as well…

And finally, this morning’s weigh-in finds me at 232.5, down 2.5 pounds from last week.  It is good to be going in the right direction again.  Girth remains stubbornly unchanged at 44″.  If you are keeping score at home, I’ve lost 46 pounds since February.

Onward and downward!

What passes for excitement in my neighborhood

Pat, the elderly widow next door, called me yesterday morning.  She’s been spending the summer with her kids in Cape Cod.  Anyway, she reported that a woman down the street had observed a U-Haul truck in her driveway.  She told me that she had no idea who had parked it there and asked if I would investigate.  I had to admit it sounded pretty suspicious.

This is one of those times I wish I had a handgun readily available.  I briefly considered taking my single shot .22 caliber rifle out of the closet, but figured that was likely to cause me more trouble than it would help should a gun battle break out.  So, I walked over and peaked in the windows of the house, but saw nothing unusual taking place.  I checked the back gate and it was also secure.  Then I did a walk around the truck and observed the back door was padlocked.  I looked in the driver’s side window and saw a stack of mail on the passenger seat.  I moved over to the passenger side for a closer look and sure enough the mail was addressed to my neighbor.  It seemed like an awful big truck for a mail heist.

I went back inside my house, retrieved my phone , and called Pat to report my findings.  She asked that I keep an eye out and call the police if I spotted anyone.  With her still on the phone I walked back outside just as a car was pulling up in front of her house.  A young man got out of the passenger seat and I asked him what was up.  He told me he was Pat’s grandson and he had rented the truck to move some patio furniture.  I put him on the phone with Pat and heard him say “hi Nana, I’m picking up the patio stuff.”  They talked a couple of more minutes and he gave me back my phone.  Satisfied that nothing untoward was taking place I left him to his business.

In other news, the scale was not kind to me this week.  While disappointed, I’m not particularly surprised.  I had company during the week which put me off my exercise routine, and I did drink a couple of smoothies.  Net result was a one pound gain which puts me back to 235.  I do believe these next 20 pounds are going to be a bitch.  My body seems to think my current weight is most excellent and it reminded me that I am after all back in my 38″ waist jeans.  I responded “fuck that, we are going DOWN!”

Onward and downward!

I’m a lefty

Or to put it more precisely, I’m left handed.  I only mention this because as you are undoubtedly aware, today is International Left-Handed Day.  Sometimes being left handed is a bit of a pain the ass:

Writing on these puppies was always a challenge in school...

Writing on these puppies was always a challenge in school…

But on the other hand (heh), us lefties are always in our right mind.  It’s a scientific fact.

Oddly enough, I throw right handed.  The only explanation I have for this oddity is that my older brother is right handed.  And I got his hand-me-downs.  Including his baseball glove.  So I just learned to throw right handed and that’s what comes naturally to me now.

It’s kinda funny sometimes.  After I throw my darts from the right, I write my score with the left.  Folks who notice that anomaly are usually quite amused.

Regular readers know that my political orientation also leans to the right, but that’s a post for another day…

 

 

 

Have I been eating in my sleep?

Saturday was an extraordinary day in its ordinariness.  Which is to say I didn’t do anything particularly interesting or outside my normal routine.  I did my usual internet surfing, walked the treadmill for a hour, a couple of hours of darts practice, and I mowed the front lawn.  Really, the only thing unusual about the day was that despite being active (for me), I never got hungry.  From the time I awoke until late in the evening all I consumed was my morning coffee, a few diet cokes, and water.

I weigh myself every Sunday.  I try to avoid daily or mid-week weigh-ins because I don’t want to get discouraged if I find myself gaining weight despite my best efforts to maintain self-discipline.  But I made an exception Saturday night because I knew my belly had been empty all day and I had been relatively active for calorie burning purposes.  And sure enough, my scale told me I was down to 231.5, a nice 3.5 drop from the previous week.

I had a chef salad, watched some TV, snacked on celery and peanut butter, and had a taste of sugar-free banana pudding.   Went to bed, woke up refreshed, and stepped on the scale for my “official” Sunday weigh-in.  234 pounds!  How in the hell did I gain 2.5 pounds overnight?

Frustrating and disappointing to be sure.  Ah well, nothing to be done but to keep after it.

Onward and downward!

Coming up short

Long story short: I didn’t qualify for the 501 Nationals yesterday.  I lost because I couldn’t beat players I should have owned.  Conversely, I beat the guys who should have owned me.  Just one of those days.

On the other hand, a darter I hadn’t seen in over a year came up to me and said “I almost didn’t recognize you.  How much weight have you lost?”  Well friends, the answer to that is 43.5 pounds.  This week finds me at 235 and I’m pleased to be moving in the right direction again, dropping 3 pounds (after last week’s gain of 1.5).  I’m working harder and it’s coming off slower.  I believe my body thinks where I’m at is just about right.  I disagree though.  I want to lose 20 more pounds before I go into my maintenance routine.

Onward and downward!