I'm toying with the idea of joining him for a shot at Arkansas or something but probably not going to happen because of &*(#@ deadlines for writing assignments and work. This year I want to get at least 5-6 more hps in the Autumn (North Dakota, Idaho, Montana, Arkansas and more mid-west places are on the hitlist). I ALSO got a phone call from Paul Retrum (who is spending the summer on his family farm in Minnesota) about an adventure sometime soon, so that could be underway soon. Maybe something a little different, maybe a canoeing adventure or a bike tour?
Note that none of these Pauls are the Daily Bugle Paul (Lenhart), who is recovering from a knee injury and hasn't been able to do any burly things in a while. I might as well plan an adventure with him to get the Paul trifecta.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
So if you haven't heard the news, even our horse athletes are now accused of doing performance enhancing drugs. Yup even Big Brown. There's rumors in Boulder that guys playing rec league softball and ultimate frisbee (as well as running/cycling events) are using HGH, as highlighted in a recent article in the Denver Post. Even a recently buffed-up Tiger Woods has had some speculation, especially with his classic knee injury that is often seen with using certain bulking up drugs (see: Barry Bonds). I suppose there's an innate Darwinistic need to be better than one's peers, even in events where the prize may be nothing more than a cheap plastic trophy and a gift certificate for Denny's. The weird thing about performance enhancing drugs is that well, they seem to actually work (though at a certain price). And as much as we condemn those who get caught, who wouldn't want an easy-to-use edge over their professional competitors (some reports even state HGH really has no harmful effects)? If there was a pill that made someone, say, an awesome systems administrator or an elite secretary, would people do it? Of course they would because that's what people do. I'm not saying you or I would (obviously, since I own no world records, I'm not on the juice) but when you raise the stakes, it's easy to see why athletes, human and beast, find a way to get pumped up. Poor Big Brown though; the guy only wants to run around, sire a few colts and eat oats.
Changing gears, I've been noodling around with my "NES COMPLETION PROJECT" again. My goal is to document playing through my entire NES collection, even the games I haven't touched in 15 years. Hey, you don't live forever and I may never get to them again, so why not? All of this started last September when I played through Faxanadu. I've been working hard at the office, getting a ton of exercise from the mountains, frisbee and biking so I feel I've earned a few hours of NES time at night. Plus, outside of sports I don't really watch TV anyway. And I just got done reading a throng of cerebral books so I need something else to help me unwind at night.
Anyhow, this week I got through Ninja Gaiden II: The Dark Sword of Chaos without too much trouble. It's quite a bit easier than the first one, though the first form of the final boss is still a pain in the brain (I had to consult my cousin's NG 2 guide for some pointers). But I made it through in one sitting and it's still a fun game that holds up well over time.
The same can't be said for the next game I put in the NES, The Goonies II. I remember liking it back in the day, especially the password feature and the Goonies inspired game tunes. The action sequences and exploration aspects are still fine but the first-person room exploration scenes are dreadfully boring and tedious. Basically, you have to use the clumsy menu to HIT every wall in every room, then use your hammer in the same fashion in hopes of finding secret items or hidden doors. It really slows the pace of the game and makes keeping track of where you are quite confusing. I love making my own game maps and all that but for now, Goonies II goes on the back burner for something more exciting. So, I turn to two games I know I can play through in one sitting with relative ease: Ninja Gaiden and Mike Tyson's Punch-Out!! Even though they have a reputation for being difficult, they are short enough to get to the tough parts easily and most of the sequences for victory are permanently burned into my brain.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Sheila, Mystic and I had a great time this weekend hiking up to a pair of Sawatch Range 14ers, Mount Belford (14,197 ft) and Mount Oxford (14,153 ft.) Sheila gets bonus points because she was at sea level about a week ago AND is battling a roughed up knee; still she was able to do the hike in great style! While not a technical ascent, it IS a long day with close to 6,000 ft. of elevation gain because you have to get up Belford, traverse to Oxford then return BACK up Belford--meaning you do a good 4 or so miles of hiking about 13,500 ft. Mystic was great as always. We had a bit of a rough start in the morning when I almost knocked myself unconscious on the car door and then Sheila had the sign it box cover fall on her nose, but we persevered! And now for the cool stuff:
If you want to click here for the cool slide show, you can see our photos with some captions. But for the coolest view of all, click here for the geotagged map view! Switch the view from "map" in the upper right to "hybrid" and zoom in to the maximum level using the slider in the upper right hand side (closer to the "plus" is the best zoom). Then click on the thumbnail of choice on the photos to see where I took the picture! Geotagging is cool stuff and I think I'll upgrade my flickr account so I can add all kinds of cool images.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Even though I am a casual NBA fan, it was cool to watch the Celtics thump the Lakers for the title last night. As a young lad in New England, the Celtics were my default team despite having what may be the ugliest logo in all of sports. The players weren't much better looking (Larry Bird has now been trying to grow a mustache for 48 years and yet, it remains as wispy and patchy as your average high school freshman). So I keep an eye on the Celtics, though my number one team (again by default via location) is now the Denver Nuggets; I go to 1-2 games a year and watch the games on TV when they are on. But it was good to see the Celtic green back on top, though I'm sure any good druid bristles at the mis-pronunciation of "Celtic" ("sell-tick" as opposed to the actual "kell-tick")Besides Boston being my former hometown team, it was great to watch the Lakers implode. My cousin Marc probably has more venom for Kobe Bryant than I do, but both of us hate a ball-hog and he's (Kobe, not Marc; he's only a ball-hog in Super Mario Strikers) the King of Swine when it comes to hoggin'. He's also a pretty rotten dude from most accounts, though hopefully just being a selfish and arrogant jerk are his worst qualities. You knew at some point he would go into "screw my team mates, you guys suck mode" and start putting up crazy shots and sure enough 7-22 shooting with 1 (!) assist marks one of the worst NBA finals performances in history. Plus I have to root for Uconn Alum Ray Allen (I remember watching his UConn games with my Mom when they were just getting good). And Kevin Garnett is a man who actually loves Minnesota so much, you might think he was a kind-hearted midwestern farmer if he wasn't 7 feet tall... and you know, playing basketball on TV.
Watching the blowout was a lift from my own games of Ultimate Frisbee last night. I had a pretty lousy night. I felt tight during both of our games and I dropped two passes, one being a simple drop (Keep in mind, I once went two FULL A-league seasons without a single drop). Bad passes, bad cuts and let's just say I was kind of like the Kobe of my team, minus being a huge jerk. But I did throw for more scores in our two games (5) than I did caught points (1).
Concluding the evening, I sat down with an old friend, 1943 for the NES. While it visually pales in comparison to its fantastic arcade counterpart, 1943 stands as perhaps the best shooter for the NES along with Lifeforce and Stinger. Like most shooters, this is a tough one to restart if you lose momentum. Thanks to a password system and the ability to power up your P-38 Lightning , it's almost like a "shooter RPG" of sorts. I was able to complete 21/23 stages before it started to get too late but replaying this classic, I was happy to see it was every bit as fun as I remember. Unlike modern shooters that overwhelm you from the get-go (Einhander being a notable exception), 1943 forces you to be more strategic as speedy planes attack from the top of the screen while tough, lumbering bombers crawl from the lower half. Boss battles are epic and can be tricky at times, especially when you get the "false ending" from the stage 15 and 16 bosses. Hopefully I'll knock this one off tonight and add it to my NES Completion List.
So those are the fun and games of the day. Today should be some mountain biking and if I'm lucky, Sheila might come into town with Mystic for a romp.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Well this is it-- my last day with Mystic! It's been a fun month and it's wonderful Sheila will be back but I admit I'll miss having the little guy around. He had another minor seizure the other night which is scary (we're working on finding out what it is but most signs point to canine epilepsy). I was glad I was there to comfort him though, the whole experience seems very disorienting to him. But he's doing great today; we're going to the groomers (well, he is) and buying "mom" a welcome home gift.
So changing gears completely: why is the hog the animal associated with selfish, possessive behavior? I don't recall ever seeing a hog being particularly hoard-worthy. Of course, the only hog I've ever seen for any amount of time was on the farm where Jody went to college. It was huge and tried to barrel over anyone who attempted to feed it. He was kind of like an offensive lineman in the NFL, only better smelling.
I mention this in direct relation to last night's NBA championship game of the Lakers Vs. the Celtics and the fabled ball hog that is Kobe Bryant. I generally don't have a vested interest in NBA except for the playoffs (I go to one or two Nuggets games a year) but I'm a bit of a Kobe hater. A lot of this probably comes from my friend Lisa who worked as a prosecutor in the famous rape allegation trial in Eagle, CO. I'm sure she wouldn't want me spouting some of the stuff she learned about ol' Kobe Bean but needless to say, he's a pretty rotten dude--and I got to hear a lot of it on the long rides up to the ski areas a few years back.
Plus every sport needs someone to root against.
So I'm watching the Lakers blowing the doors off the Celtics as I was cleaning up the house. The score was 70-55 when I took Mystic outside for a walk. I think to myself "the only way Boston can win is if Kobe turns into Kobe". As the Lakers built up a 20 plus point lead, Kobe was the "new" much more dangerous Kobe: passing to teammates, setting up decoys, etc. But his fatal flaw is he always wants to be the man, he can't stand sharing the spotlight with others. As the third quarter got underway, he began to revert to classic Kobe: putting up a ridiculous amount of shots, scoring about 38% of the time. A typical night when in this mode: 40 points on 14/55 shooting and a few free throws. But best of all, he was ignoring teammates that were wide open time and time again. Slowly Boston closed the gap and before the final buzzer sounded, the Celtics were walking out with an improbable victory.
Like I said, I'm not a big enough NBA fan to care that much but it's always good to see the classic ball hog syndrome get overpowered by solid team play. Maybe it's my inner communist.
So changing gears completely: why is the hog the animal associated with selfish, possessive behavior? I don't recall ever seeing a hog being particularly hoard-worthy. Of course, the only hog I've ever seen for any amount of time was on the farm where Jody went to college. It was huge and tried to barrel over anyone who attempted to feed it. He was kind of like an offensive lineman in the NFL, only better smelling.
I mention this in direct relation to last night's NBA championship game of the Lakers Vs. the Celtics and the fabled ball hog that is Kobe Bryant. I generally don't have a vested interest in NBA except for the playoffs (I go to one or two Nuggets games a year) but I'm a bit of a Kobe hater. A lot of this probably comes from my friend Lisa who worked as a prosecutor in the famous rape allegation trial in Eagle, CO. I'm sure she wouldn't want me spouting some of the stuff she learned about ol' Kobe Bean but needless to say, he's a pretty rotten dude--and I got to hear a lot of it on the long rides up to the ski areas a few years back.
Plus every sport needs someone to root against.
So I'm watching the Lakers blowing the doors off the Celtics as I was cleaning up the house. The score was 70-55 when I took Mystic outside for a walk. I think to myself "the only way Boston can win is if Kobe turns into Kobe". As the Lakers built up a 20 plus point lead, Kobe was the "new" much more dangerous Kobe: passing to teammates, setting up decoys, etc. But his fatal flaw is he always wants to be the man, he can't stand sharing the spotlight with others. As the third quarter got underway, he began to revert to classic Kobe: putting up a ridiculous amount of shots, scoring about 38% of the time. A typical night when in this mode: 40 points on 14/55 shooting and a few free throws. But best of all, he was ignoring teammates that were wide open time and time again. Slowly Boston closed the gap and before the final buzzer sounded, the Celtics were walking out with an improbable victory.
Like I said, I'm not a big enough NBA fan to care that much but it's always good to see the classic ball hog syndrome get overpowered by solid team play. Maybe it's my inner communist.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
A while back, I was having a conversation with Sheila about the "best money we've ever spent" in our lives. I was thinking about my new bike at the time and it was a pretty lighthearted discussion as we pondered the merits of our best purchases. During a brief pause, Sheila's eyes got a bit more focused and I wondered what she was thinking.
"Actually, I know what the best money I ever spent was. The money I used to adopt Mystic."
Her eyes got glossy and warm because she knew it to be true.
We think about the possessions in our lives, the things and experiences we pine for and yet, the happiness that money can buy is often so much more simple than we think. I love my new mountain bike but it doesn't compare to the quiet evenings I've spent with Xanadu watching the sunset from our porch. I assume our own values go into the equation as well but for me it brings up a few thoughts from the last few days.
I live within walking distance of a Safeway and I'll make my way over there on a regular basis. Last week I saw a kind of beat-up-looking Dodge Neon with a couple of cats napping in the back seat. I didn't think much of it at the time; maybe the person was moving or getting back from taking the kitties to vet. Then about a week later, I went to the store later at night-- around 11 PM-- and saw the same car in the lot, the same two kitties curled up in the back window and curtains pulled over the windows. Observing the car a bit closer, it had Texas plates with a handicap insignia and there appeared to be a woman sleeping inside.
I don't know the story but putting the pieces together, I didn't think it was good. It's a tough spot because you can't just tap on the window--who knows what her story is. But the cats... they get to me. I quietly left a couple of cans of Fancy Feast on the back of the car that I had gotten for Xanadu (she had already eaten that night and I was just stocking up). I'm worried for the kitties because it's getting too hot out here to leave pets in the car. I'm kind of keeping an eye out for them but it's such a tricky dilemma. I can envision a lot of difference scenarios but in all of them, I hope the kitties are safe.
And secondly, this ends my month with Mystic. In a little way, being with him has been life-changing. It's been a while since I've had a dog around and it's amazing how much personality he has. He's incredibly expressive, intelligent, playful, restless, lonely-- all the things we feel as humans. I've been rethinking my role in the natural world and I think it's utterly absurd to think that animals don't experience rich emotional lives (there are those who dispute this and yet believe in an invisible man who loves them but may also make them burn a fiery lake for all eternity, but I digress). Sheila named Mystic because of the soulful look he sometimes gets in his eyes, as if he was peering into your own soul but in a kind and gentle way, as if to express some wisdom that can only be spoken through the spirit. His joy and enthusiasm for each day is a lesson I certainly need to be reminded of because this: he's not just some dumb brute who consumes food and can be trained to jump through hoops. It's my belief that he chooses to be happy, that joy for a dog can come as simply as opening your eyes in the morning. Each day is something to greet with a smile, each adventure a leap-inducing frenzy of happiness. His is a good life, he's one of the lucky ones.
And so am I.
I picked up The Emotional Lives of Animals by Marc Bekoff last night and I'm really looking forward to reading it. As much as I enjoy a challenging read, it's sometimes nice to reaffirm the things you believe with someone who is on the same page.
For those curious about my latest Boulder Weekly piece, you can read it here. I'm happy with how it came out and I think it's a fairly interesting piece. I hope you like it!
In other news: yesterday I had a therapeutic massage which is not to be confused with one of those relaxing messages administered by pretty middle-aged women in sarongs. This was more in the style of the burly, meat-padded hands of a cigar smoking Bronx native in a 1940's baseball clubhouse. Actually my masseuse was a kind woman (and I feel like I should have given her a huge bonus for having to look at, let alone touch my hiking-worn feet) but she warned me it could hurt a bit. Most of the work I was having done was on my ankles. The idea with this massage was that it was going to force stiff and tight muscles to relax but at the same time release tension-based toxins from deep within the muscle fibers. I don't know what kind of toxins reside in my body or how they get there, but I strongly suspect Count Chocula.
Anyhow, the pre-massage ritual consisted of the doctor doing that neck twisting thing where they violently jerk your head and snap your spine in half (or at least that is what it sounds like). Then, once they've disable your reflex system so you can't fight back, the actual masseuse takes over. My ankles are as stiff and nearly as wooden as Al Gore himself, so she took the appropriate measures to bend, contort and soften up long neglected ligaments. What hurt the most was the manipulation of the shin muscles and connectors; both legs now sport some fancy black n' blues. Overall though the pain wasn't too bad, akin to getting bashed in each leg by NFL kicker Morton Andersen.
Since my body has been generally neglected for the better part of 30 years, the doctor warned me the release of toxins could trigger some funky reactions. Some people get really weepy and emotional, some get tired, some feel sick while others do all of the above. Most of the day, all I felt was sore in the shins. When I got home however, the toxins kicked in. No moodiness or sorrow, but I got really tired so much so that I drifted in and out of sleep for the better part of two hours. In the background, like a bizarre hazy dream the History channel showed back to back shows on the Mexican Gangs of Los Vegas and Alaskan railway maintenance. Bits and pieces of these soundbites would drift into my semi-conscious mind, along with the morbid chanting of Tom's "Don't you believvvve it" from yesterday's post. It was all quite surreal and when I woke up it was 8:30 and still light out, which I oddly hadn't expected.
Today, I'm feeling mostly detoxified though my legs still hurt--nothing a little mineral ice and 16 Ibuprofen can't fix.
On John's blog today, he posted an old Disney cartoon wherein basically, Donald Duck kills at least two of his nephews by smoke poisoning. It's kind of scary, but no where as near as creepy as the 2 or 3 Tom and Jerry cartoons where Tom speaks in a rich baritone the line: "Dooon't Yoooou Believvvve It". As a kid, this pretty much scared the tar out of me. Not only does it have a demonic and supernatural echo, for the most part these are the only words uttered by an otherwise mute character. The implied demonic possession/morbid warning seems spoken by Hades himself; in my opnion this is much more horrifying than, say, The Exorcist.
Judge for yourself--the morose call comes at about 6:10.
What's also disturbing is the fact the white mouse, a fairly sympathetic figure, is erradicated by getting blasted to pieces. Where as most cartoons have the characters recover from dynamite, falling off cliffs, getting crushed by a piano, etc. this particular guy gets blown to bits. It's all kind of freaky--and perfect to ponder on a rainy Thursday.
"Actually, I know what the best money I ever spent was. The money I used to adopt Mystic."
Her eyes got glossy and warm because she knew it to be true.
We think about the possessions in our lives, the things and experiences we pine for and yet, the happiness that money can buy is often so much more simple than we think. I love my new mountain bike but it doesn't compare to the quiet evenings I've spent with Xanadu watching the sunset from our porch. I assume our own values go into the equation as well but for me it brings up a few thoughts from the last few days.
I live within walking distance of a Safeway and I'll make my way over there on a regular basis. Last week I saw a kind of beat-up-looking Dodge Neon with a couple of cats napping in the back seat. I didn't think much of it at the time; maybe the person was moving or getting back from taking the kitties to vet. Then about a week later, I went to the store later at night-- around 11 PM-- and saw the same car in the lot, the same two kitties curled up in the back window and curtains pulled over the windows. Observing the car a bit closer, it had Texas plates with a handicap insignia and there appeared to be a woman sleeping inside.
I don't know the story but putting the pieces together, I didn't think it was good. It's a tough spot because you can't just tap on the window--who knows what her story is. But the cats... they get to me. I quietly left a couple of cans of Fancy Feast on the back of the car that I had gotten for Xanadu (she had already eaten that night and I was just stocking up). I'm worried for the kitties because it's getting too hot out here to leave pets in the car. I'm kind of keeping an eye out for them but it's such a tricky dilemma. I can envision a lot of difference scenarios but in all of them, I hope the kitties are safe.
And secondly, this ends my month with Mystic. In a little way, being with him has been life-changing. It's been a while since I've had a dog around and it's amazing how much personality he has. He's incredibly expressive, intelligent, playful, restless, lonely-- all the things we feel as humans. I've been rethinking my role in the natural world and I think it's utterly absurd to think that animals don't experience rich emotional lives (there are those who dispute this and yet believe in an invisible man who loves them but may also make them burn a fiery lake for all eternity, but I digress). Sheila named Mystic because of the soulful look he sometimes gets in his eyes, as if he was peering into your own soul but in a kind and gentle way, as if to express some wisdom that can only be spoken through the spirit. His joy and enthusiasm for each day is a lesson I certainly need to be reminded of because this: he's not just some dumb brute who consumes food and can be trained to jump through hoops. It's my belief that he chooses to be happy, that joy for a dog can come as simply as opening your eyes in the morning. Each day is something to greet with a smile, each adventure a leap-inducing frenzy of happiness. His is a good life, he's one of the lucky ones.
And so am I.
I picked up The Emotional Lives of Animals by Marc Bekoff last night and I'm really looking forward to reading it. As much as I enjoy a challenging read, it's sometimes nice to reaffirm the things you believe with someone who is on the same page.
Friday, June 06, 2008
For those curious about my latest Boulder Weekly piece, you can read it here. I'm happy with how it came out and I think it's a fairly interesting piece. I hope you like it!In other news: yesterday I had a therapeutic massage which is not to be confused with one of those relaxing messages administered by pretty middle-aged women in sarongs. This was more in the style of the burly, meat-padded hands of a cigar smoking Bronx native in a 1940's baseball clubhouse. Actually my masseuse was a kind woman (and I feel like I should have given her a huge bonus for having to look at, let alone touch my hiking-worn feet) but she warned me it could hurt a bit. Most of the work I was having done was on my ankles. The idea with this massage was that it was going to force stiff and tight muscles to relax but at the same time release tension-based toxins from deep within the muscle fibers. I don't know what kind of toxins reside in my body or how they get there, but I strongly suspect Count Chocula.
Anyhow, the pre-massage ritual consisted of the doctor doing that neck twisting thing where they violently jerk your head and snap your spine in half (or at least that is what it sounds like). Then, once they've disable your reflex system so you can't fight back, the actual masseuse takes over. My ankles are as stiff and nearly as wooden as Al Gore himself, so she took the appropriate measures to bend, contort and soften up long neglected ligaments. What hurt the most was the manipulation of the shin muscles and connectors; both legs now sport some fancy black n' blues. Overall though the pain wasn't too bad, akin to getting bashed in each leg by NFL kicker Morton Andersen.
Since my body has been generally neglected for the better part of 30 years, the doctor warned me the release of toxins could trigger some funky reactions. Some people get really weepy and emotional, some get tired, some feel sick while others do all of the above. Most of the day, all I felt was sore in the shins. When I got home however, the toxins kicked in. No moodiness or sorrow, but I got really tired so much so that I drifted in and out of sleep for the better part of two hours. In the background, like a bizarre hazy dream the History channel showed back to back shows on the Mexican Gangs of Los Vegas and Alaskan railway maintenance. Bits and pieces of these soundbites would drift into my semi-conscious mind, along with the morbid chanting of Tom's "Don't you believvvve it" from yesterday's post. It was all quite surreal and when I woke up it was 8:30 and still light out, which I oddly hadn't expected.
Today, I'm feeling mostly detoxified though my legs still hurt--nothing a little mineral ice and 16 Ibuprofen can't fix.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
On John's blog today, he posted an old Disney cartoon wherein basically, Donald Duck kills at least two of his nephews by smoke poisoning. It's kind of scary, but no where as near as creepy as the 2 or 3 Tom and Jerry cartoons where Tom speaks in a rich baritone the line: "Dooon't Yoooou Believvvve It". As a kid, this pretty much scared the tar out of me. Not only does it have a demonic and supernatural echo, for the most part these are the only words uttered by an otherwise mute character. The implied demonic possession/morbid warning seems spoken by Hades himself; in my opnion this is much more horrifying than, say, The Exorcist.
Judge for yourself--the morose call comes at about 6:10.
What's also disturbing is the fact the white mouse, a fairly sympathetic figure, is erradicated by getting blasted to pieces. Where as most cartoons have the characters recover from dynamite, falling off cliffs, getting crushed by a piano, etc. this particular guy gets blown to bits. It's all kind of freaky--and perfect to ponder on a rainy Thursday.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Yesterday was a full day here in Boulder from dawn till dusk.
* Woke up and went for a little hike with Mystic, which is a good way to start any day.
* Checked my mail and found I'd been sent a free copy of Day and Overnight Hikes: Rocky Mountain National Parks by fellow author and colleague Kim Lipker. Not only is it a cool book in its own right, yours truly has a blurb on the back of the book! I'm somebody!
* I found out that my interview with Erik Weihenmayer (blind Mount Everest and seven summits climber) has been upgraded from a feature story to this Thursday's cover story in the Boulder Weekly. This makes it my second Weekly cover story along with "Greekies" piece.
* Got to sneak out of work to go for a bike ride with the Big Boss here at Natural Habitat Adventures. I had a pretty good ride but of the 3 of us, I was the Wyatt Earp of the group (IE the only one to emerge unscathed). One of us spent the ride puking on the side of the trail, the other flew over his handlebars and broke his chain. The names of the innocent have been withheld because frankly, I like my job.
* Had my first Ultimate Frisbee games with the new team, but there were 5 no-shows meaning no subs. We lost 11-5 but I like my team mates and I had a decent showing, throwing for 2 of our points and catching 2 more. And no, I'm not a disk hog (far from it) I just so happened to have a decent game. The second game was called cause of lightning.
* And most importantly, after 30+ hours of no-production, Mystic finally pooped. May not sound like a big deal to you but I was wondering what was taking him so long (and hoping he didn't dump in my house). I was able to sleep peacefully knowing he wasn't clutching his sphincter in the wee' hours of the morning.
* Woke up and went for a little hike with Mystic, which is a good way to start any day.
* Checked my mail and found I'd been sent a free copy of Day and Overnight Hikes: Rocky Mountain National Parks by fellow author and colleague Kim Lipker. Not only is it a cool book in its own right, yours truly has a blurb on the back of the book! I'm somebody!
* I found out that my interview with Erik Weihenmayer (blind Mount Everest and seven summits climber) has been upgraded from a feature story to this Thursday's cover story in the Boulder Weekly. This makes it my second Weekly cover story along with "Greekies" piece.
* Got to sneak out of work to go for a bike ride with the Big Boss here at Natural Habitat Adventures. I had a pretty good ride but of the 3 of us, I was the Wyatt Earp of the group (IE the only one to emerge unscathed). One of us spent the ride puking on the side of the trail, the other flew over his handlebars and broke his chain. The names of the innocent have been withheld because frankly, I like my job.
* Had my first Ultimate Frisbee games with the new team, but there were 5 no-shows meaning no subs. We lost 11-5 but I like my team mates and I had a decent showing, throwing for 2 of our points and catching 2 more. And no, I'm not a disk hog (far from it) I just so happened to have a decent game. The second game was called cause of lightning.
* And most importantly, after 30+ hours of no-production, Mystic finally pooped. May not sound like a big deal to you but I was wondering what was taking him so long (and hoping he didn't dump in my house). I was able to sleep peacefully knowing he wasn't clutching his sphincter in the wee' hours of the morning.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Wow, it was on this day in 2006 that I began the hikes for my book! As They Might Be Giants have said: "Time is flying like an arrow/ And the clockhands move so fast they make the wind blow". I'm not sure what makes adult life pass by at a much faster rate than youth buy it sure does (and I assume it only accelerates as we get older). This isn't so much a lament as it is an observation.
Coupled with the whole "meaning of life" theme is the string of books I just got done reading: The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins and Freedom Evolves and Darwin's Dangerous Idea by Daniel Dennett. All three of these are intellectually dense, dealing with the concepts of atheism and science (put very simply). I'd recommend any of the three, assuming you are not looking for light reading. Overall, I would say I agree with a good 85-90% of the ideas presented in the books, especially with the idea that our progress as a species is severely hindered by supernatural distractions. Dawkins seems like more of an ardent atheist than Dennett but both are adept at presenting their cases and better still, both address the questions that oppose their opinions. A much lighter approach on the subject can be seen here.
After a longish weekend of fun in the mountains, I'm in for one more long week of work and freelance. I keep thinking the streak is going to end but it inevitably doesn't--which is good and bad. Work keeps on coming though at some point in the near future I'm going to need to take a break... and maybe partake in some Simpsons comic books or something a bit less intense for my night time reading.
Coupled with the whole "meaning of life" theme is the string of books I just got done reading: The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins and Freedom Evolves and Darwin's Dangerous Idea by Daniel Dennett. All three of these are intellectually dense, dealing with the concepts of atheism and science (put very simply). I'd recommend any of the three, assuming you are not looking for light reading. Overall, I would say I agree with a good 85-90% of the ideas presented in the books, especially with the idea that our progress as a species is severely hindered by supernatural distractions. Dawkins seems like more of an ardent atheist than Dennett but both are adept at presenting their cases and better still, both address the questions that oppose their opinions. A much lighter approach on the subject can be seen here.
After a longish weekend of fun in the mountains, I'm in for one more long week of work and freelance. I keep thinking the streak is going to end but it inevitably doesn't--which is good and bad. Work keeps on coming though at some point in the near future I'm going to need to take a break... and maybe partake in some Simpsons comic books or something a bit less intense for my night time reading.
