Friday, May 23, 2008

Curing Cancer with Lottery Winnings

Yes. Yes. The entire house is sick. We all have blood running out of our eyes. And while I've sequestered myself upstairs with my new Neti Pot I'm still feeling pretty good.

As far as I know I don't have pancreatic cancer.

Randy Pausch does.

I realize that the perspective Pausch's Last Lecture has provided probably won't last much longer than 11:30 p.m. tonight when I go to bed. But for now I feel moved enough by it to mention it to you.

Pausch talks about dreams. I keep thinking about my childhood dreams. I never had any; really. I remember day dreaming a lot about taking a pet lion to school. I also spent a lot of class time on a spacecraft that had unlimited range and maneuverability yet was small enough for me to park near the bicycle racks. Then there was my bubble city. That was a major project.

So I suppose had dreams but never the kind that translate well to anything attainable in my adult life. Sure, I could have been a lion tamer or aeronautical engineer but as elaborate as my fantasies may have been, they really weren't rooted in anything my unambitious adult-self could hope to make come true.

I'm not pouting. I just hear this dying guy tell me about the importance of making your dreams come true and I'm not really sure if I have any beyond the oh so very pedestrian rock star kind of stuff.

So what do I dream of now?

If I think about it I suppose I waste a lot of time on spending imaginary lottery winnings. I also save a lot of important people (or people significant to me) from things like minor harassments all the way up to certain doom. Every now and again I find myself autographing slips of paper on my desk. Best wishes, Ted. Thanks, Carol. Greg Lee. Not really sure who Ted and Carol are and why they would want my signature, but it's somehow gratifying to go through the motions.

But these aren't the kind of "dreams" that make a difference. There will be no cancer cures stemming from me imagining how I'm going to save the entire fourth floor of my office building from terrorists. And that's too bad because maybe I could have saved someone like Randy Pausch. A guy who has the kind of dreams that eventually make a difference in someone else's life.

Sunday, May 11, 2008


Happy Mother's Day, Marcia.
Happy Mother's Day, Judy.

Judy was in bed with pneumonia when Deb tried to call her this morning. I'm guessing this isn't the best Mother's Day ever for her. I hope she's feeling better soon.

I got a hold of Marcia.

I wonder if she realizes how much I've learned about what it means to be a parent now that I am one. I wonder if she knows how grateful I am. I wonder if she knows that I understand why she still buys me shoes. I bet she knows that when I'm her age I'll be sending Allie and Julia shoes (or something like them).

By the way, turns out I am hip enough to Twitter.

I have a link now over there; to the left.

See it?

Can't see it? Click here. [sigh]

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Meanest Thing I Said Tonight

Julia: There's a bug in my room.

Me: I hate to tell you this, but there's probably a lot more than just one bug in your room. But if you lie still and go to sleep they're probably not going to bother you.

Julia: [Blink-Blink]

Me: Love you. 'night, 'night.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Not Hip Enough to Twitter

Since it takes me three days to text anything and I haven't signed up for a Twitter account here's what's going on in 140 character or less tidbits:

-Mom ran into Matt Damon at the mall today. No kidding. She says he's a cutie. Pictures? Maybe soon.

-Motorcycle didn't run. Took it apart; big time. Replaced some things. Now it runs. I only have two parts left over. Shocked and amazed I pulled it off.

-Allie had a bad day today. Fought with friend. Left coat at school. Didn't have swimsuit. Dropped ice cream. She was a mess. Ate some noodles. Took a bath. Life not so bad.

-Julia is fine. That's all I have to say about Julia.

-Deb needs to get new contacts and was supposed to email her Dr. this evening. I bet she didn't.

-Glenn and Judy got sick during their visit. Judy is coughing. Glenn is doing something else.

-Doctor prescribed cough medicine with codeine. It has made me really loopy, forgetful and unable to think clearly. In other words, the narcotic has had little or no impact.