Just chill...

My two most recent hometowns, ranked in the top five of America's most stressful cities? That explains my increasing need for regular massages. (Not the fact that, in my wiser years, I'm pulling muscles that I didn't even realize I had, from routine daily activities like...getting out of the car).

Happy Birthday! Now let's save the world.

Congrats, Google, on 10 years of transforming the WWW and becoming a commonly-used verb in our daily lives. Here's to a googol more years and changing the world through this awesomely altruistic move. Bravo, guys.

Oh, this is too cool...

Courtesy of South Park Studio.

Senior Moments

I've found myself in the company of more Elders than usual lately (besides my two favorites). Here are some snippets...

"When I was younger, we just voted for the person we agreed with. We didn't have to deal with all this filth and dirt!" - Octogenarian sitting next to me in the waiting room, disgustedly throwing aside her newspaper with the headline, "McCain Says Obama's Lipstick Remark was Wrong".

"My younger brother is 78 years old." - Grinning white-haired student wearing spectacles on a beaded chain, participating in my father's ESL class.

"Don't worry, dear. You'll get it...eventually." - Smug fellow PiYo classmate at my local Y. She and the other grey-hairs in the class have proven (so far) to be much more flexible and agile than me. I'll show 'em...or at least catch up! They must've been star athletes in their prime...

And now we wait...

In the 15 days after Labor Day weekend, we loss sleep watching all 34 episodes of the show (23 in Season 1, only 11 in Season 2 due to the Writer's Strike) on DVD. During the 2 weeks that followed, our quieter evenings, while pleasant in each other's company, were interrupted with occasional silent looks of "what do we do now?" and forlorn gazes out the window as we restlessly wrung our hands in anticipation of the 3rd installment.

The wait finally ended yesterday with a 2-hour premiere at the end of a long day of slapping the proverbial vein. Yatah!! While not as riveting as Season 1, Heroes will likely captivate us for yet another season. The difference now, though, is that we'll have to endure the hiatus between each weekly airing. Practicing the Zen of Patience...

“Put silk on a goat, and it's still a goat.”

They're back! En route to Kaleo Cafe (one of our favorite wi-fi spots) today, I caught a glimpse of the bearded brown-scarfed gardeners grazing on the hillside at Laguna Honda Hospital. Apparently this is the 4th year that the City has brought in 600 South African Boer goats from Monterey County's Sycamore Farms for this late-summer landscaping project: to munch on 22 acres of overgrown vegetation to reduce rat and yellow jacket (wasp) habitat and the chance of fire.

I was especially amused by the RFP for this job, which said "clearing must be performed by goats and supervised by goatherders who will stay on site with the goats to monitor cutting activity... The city to be held harmless for any loss of goats, theft or otherwise." HI-Larious!

Seven Years Later

Sorrow makes us all children again - destroys all differences of intellect. The wisest know nothing. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Shakespeare had his cannabis...

(more about that)...and I have, as my occasional source of inspiration, Theobroma cacao, Greek for “Fruit of Gods", a.k.a. chocolate.

At 5:15 AM this morning -- a mere 5 hours after retiring from an invigorating evening of imbibing (with my fellow Wednesday Whine & Diners) in copious amounts of chocolate, infused in a mousse cake from Schubert's Bakery; and then an extra thick serving of hot cocoa from Blue Danube Cafe -- my eyes flipped open and darted about the room in the quiet darkness. My mind and heart were racing, my adrenaline pumping,...I was experiencing a Dawn Phenomenon. Tossing and turning with all my might, I couldn't power down, and sprung out of bed to face the dim still-awakening day. Scribbling frenetically in the shadows, I downloaded the dozens of ideas from my head into my journal and on scraps of paper lying around.

Then I went swimming.

Meek vs. Weak

One of the less flattering descriptions that I've heard of American culture is "aggressive". It follows that a characteristic that's probably not seen as desirable here is "meekness". But from studying the word more closely, I realize this is a trait I want to strive to master.

The word "meek" is often associated with "weak" and conjures up images of someone who is timid, bland, unambitious, and...well, wimpy. It's origins, though, tell a different story. The Bible associates meekness with humility, with the notion that we are greatly humbled by our insignificance relative to a much higher power, God. Merriam-Webster describes "meek" as a Middle English word of Scandinavian origin, related to mjūkr, Old Norse for gentle; and defines it as "enduring injury with patience and without resentment".

Now this doesn't mean meek people should let themselves be stepped on. Contraire, people who are meek (based on this definition) are convicted in their belief, which shifts their focus from themselves to something much larger that motivates everything that they do -- like exhibiting patience in sucky situations, showing kindness and reaching out to others, and just being concerned about the welfare of other people.

I like the way our Pastor summarized it:
"Weakness is thinking less of yourself. Meekness is thinking of yourself less."

"You have generous tonsils!"

I wasn't sure whether to beam with pride or recoil awkwardly at the doctor's comment. He must have picked up my conflicting vibes 'cos he followed up quickly with, "It's nothing to worry about. Doesn't look like strep or anything. They just look...'generous'!" What an odd use of that adjective. He laughed heartily to himself, then proceeded to intently tomahawk my knee with a reflex hammer.

Just one of the several "interesting" characters I encountered during my work-related medical monitoring exam today.

Then there was my assigned Newbie Nurse, who felt compelled to leave me for 15 minutes before each test to confer with a more experienced counterpart, returning each time with the well-rehearsed line, "So sorry for the long wait." (The first time he said it, I smiled and shrugged. After the fifth time,...sorry, dude; you get a blank stare.)

And I can't forget Vein-Hunting Nurses #1, #2, and #3, who each took turns rubbing, slapping, tourniqueting, and stabbing various parts of my arm and hand, while I continually clenched and relaxed my fist. I've always known my veins are hard to find, but this was by far the most enduring expedition. Then just moments before I let a tear sneak out -- EUREKA! -- Nurse #3 hit gold and was able to collect enough sample to fill the vials. (It's a tough job being a pin cushion.)

Good inspiration for a blog entry, but...those occupational health folks wore me out.

Save the Wetlands, Save The World

Excuse the melodrama in the title (no doubt evoked by my recent obsession with a certain show), but the importance of wetlands -- especially coastal wetlands along the Gulf -- has been ignored and undervalued for too long.

"Mr. ['Blackie'] Campo gives his wetlands habitat only 50 more years before it is gone," a New York Times reporter wrote from Shell Beach, Louisiana, about an old fisherman's prediction in 1988. In 2004, National Geographic posted an article that eerily forecasted the devastation that would be credited to Hurricane Katrina a year later.

The crux of the matter... Coastal wetlands are a natural levee system. They protect the coast from storms by absorbing the energy of strong waves. Since the 1930s, a huge chunk of wetlands about the size of Delaware (2,000 square miles) has been destroyed to build hundreds of canals for oil exploration and ship traffic; and drained for development and farming. The wetlands have been torn apart and weakened, certainly by massive storms, but also by us humans, which cause the deadly effects of storms like Katrina to be so much greater. Considering that >30% of America's fisheries and 25% of oil and gas come from or through Louisiana's coastal wetlands, this problem affects the entire nation. Louisiana has the highest rate of wetland loss - about a football field every 20 minutes -- and 80 percent of the country's total loss of wetlands has occurred there.

Enter the age-old question: Can a balance be reached between environmental conservation and progress? The idealist in me cries, "Heck yeah!" I'm glad folks smarter than me are working on this one.

----

P.S. When we visited the Shell Beach Memorial in August, we met the grandson of Mr. Campo, the old fisherman who was featured in the NYT and NG articles (above). I can still picture the streetwise-looking teenager perched on his bike, describing to us in his strong Cajun accent about how "Grand-daddy was rescued from the rooftop by a helicopter during The Storm." He then told us that Grand-daddy passed away at age 90 just a month ago.

74.7 degrees, 78%

That was the temperature and humidity in the hazy "back room" of Cigar King at the heart of Skokie on the outskirts of Chicago. A dripping humidifier in the far corner pumped out a moist cloud like a smoke machine in a 70s dance club. The space, the size of my first studio apartment, was lined from floor to ceiling with hundreds of boxes of imports -- ranging from unlabeled hand-rolled ones for $2.95 each to high enders for a couple of Jacksons.

The testosterone level would have registered at "TILT" if there was a meter for that on the premises. Although no one looked askance in my direction, I could tell I had stumbled into a secret haven that rivaled the Water Buffaloes Lodge, or more seriously, the Free Masons. After purchasing a box of Drew Estates' Acid Kuba Kuba and a couple of Lars Tetens, I soaked in the decor of the main "rec" room as we made a quick exit -- walls adorned with mounted animal heads and stuffed raptors; a couple of old but badass-looking mafia-types sizing up their shots at a pool table; a dozen half-occupied leather lazy boy recliners arranged neatly before two flat screen TVs broadcasting the Cubs vs. Phillies.

I gratefully gulped in a lungful of fresh air when we emerged into the sunlight. Strangely, I felt older, wiser, and more experienced after having stepped into that other world.

Hooked on Heroes

I had heard so much about the series but hadn't watched a single episode until our Chicago-bound flight over the weekend. Amazing!! My relentless craving for originality is being temporarily satiated as I race to catch up on Seasons 1 and 2 of the show before its 3rd run launches on September 22nd...in 18 days, 22 hours, 25 minutes, and 30 seconds...(as my addictive alter-ego goes "raaar!")