Abortion ends a beating heart. Well, sometimes. I think--and I'm writing this without checking on any statistics--that most abortions occur before the heart starts beating.
Nature, or god, if you believe in god, performs far more abortions than anyone else. This is well known and long documented. What lay people call a "miscarriage" is called in medicine a "spontaneous abortion," but the term has such an emotional charge that it doesn't get used very often.
So there's a couple questions here, the ethical/moral aspect and the legal aspect. Which puts me squarely on the fence about this issue.
I wish no one would ever have a medical procedure to end a human life, unless it's necessary to save an existing human life. The natural world agrees with me here, and if you have a god, presumably she does also, since your religion dictates that she wrote the rules, but a stressed, gravid female anything will ditch her young so she can live to reproduce another day. Mothers of young, living, breathing offspring will abandon them to save their own lives. We see this in cheetahs attacked by lions, coyotes attacked by wolves, etc, etc. So there's precedent, and lots of it, in the natural world. And like it or not, there's a kind of cold calculus here. Your emotional reaction to the idea is, sorry, once again, irrelevant.
Legally, well, isn't this obvious? Get the hell out of everyone else's uterus. Sorry, but that's not a highway or a national park. It's none of your business what occurs in there. Your religious and emotional ideas are irrational and have no place being forced into a stranger's reproductive organs. The decision should be made by the woman, the man from whom the sperm came, and a doctor or other well-qualified counselor.
Oh, sorry, did I sting a bit when I mentioned the father? Well, tell you what. When a man who doesn't want a child stops being liable for a child he didn't want, then we can talk about taking him out of the conversation. Until then, I think he should have a place at that table.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
God, religion, faith...
Yup, I'm pushing all the hot buttons in an attempt to get someone to reply.
You have a religion? Great, good on ya. Seriously. I think belief in some sort of deity has created a lot of good works and caused a lot of people to live their lives according to a pretty reasonable moral and ethical standard.
I do have a few problems, though. You might have guessed.
First, I don't have that faith. I see no reason to believe in your personal or institutional mythology. And, honestly, you don't have such a reason either, except what you call faith and that really is nothing more than a decision to believe with no evidence at all. There's nothing, no rational argument or observable evidence, that would lead anyone of rational mind to believe in the existence of a deity.
So, okay, so what, then? Well, nothing. Except that I'm expected to have "respect" for such beliefs. Why? Even worse, I have to tolerate legislators and agitators trying to force me via the government to live according to such unfounded and preposterous beliefs. Then there's the notion of "religious freedom," which so often seems to be a code word for "don't pass laws that force people to behave rationally." There's a "war on Christmas?" Seriously? You have to be out of your mind to even consider such a notion.
No. Do not expect me to respect or believe in your fairy tales. Not even the ones based on a book cobbled together 2,000 years ago by politicians and shamans. The shepherds and fishermen who wrote those stories on parchment were no better able to determine the existence of a deity than I am, and they were considerably less educated and rational. If you want me to respect your beliefs, you have to back them up with something better than mythology and sophistry.
Do I say there is no deity? No, absolutely not. I have no idea. There's no way short of some kind of personal burning bush experience--or death, I guess--that I could ever answer that question. So let's all admit that, okay? And can we stop passing laws based on irrational mythology now?
You have a religion? Great, good on ya. Seriously. I think belief in some sort of deity has created a lot of good works and caused a lot of people to live their lives according to a pretty reasonable moral and ethical standard.
I do have a few problems, though. You might have guessed.
First, I don't have that faith. I see no reason to believe in your personal or institutional mythology. And, honestly, you don't have such a reason either, except what you call faith and that really is nothing more than a decision to believe with no evidence at all. There's nothing, no rational argument or observable evidence, that would lead anyone of rational mind to believe in the existence of a deity.
So, okay, so what, then? Well, nothing. Except that I'm expected to have "respect" for such beliefs. Why? Even worse, I have to tolerate legislators and agitators trying to force me via the government to live according to such unfounded and preposterous beliefs. Then there's the notion of "religious freedom," which so often seems to be a code word for "don't pass laws that force people to behave rationally." There's a "war on Christmas?" Seriously? You have to be out of your mind to even consider such a notion.
No. Do not expect me to respect or believe in your fairy tales. Not even the ones based on a book cobbled together 2,000 years ago by politicians and shamans. The shepherds and fishermen who wrote those stories on parchment were no better able to determine the existence of a deity than I am, and they were considerably less educated and rational. If you want me to respect your beliefs, you have to back them up with something better than mythology and sophistry.
Do I say there is no deity? No, absolutely not. I have no idea. There's no way short of some kind of personal burning bush experience--or death, I guess--that I could ever answer that question. So let's all admit that, okay? And can we stop passing laws based on irrational mythology now?
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Guns
Had a little chat with Sallie about the whole blog thing. Passionate, she says, post about things you feel passion about. Or things that are currently in discussion in the press, etc. Guns, she suggests.
Take a deep breath. Guns.
Okay.
A gun is just a tool. All it does it make holes in stuff at a great distance. That's it. That's all any gun does, no matter what caliber, design, shape, color, configuration, action, etc, etc.
You have to start any conversation about guns with that simple fact. They don't spontaneously explode and slaughter innocent children. They don't cause crime. They don't create serial killers. That's just not how it works.
The founders of the country, the guys who created the philosophy behind this place I live, understood this. They decided that any government that takes guns away from its citizens was wrong to do so. I happen to agree, and here's why. No one but me should have the authority to decide how and with what tools I decide to protect my life, family, neighbors, possessions, and livelihood. I'm sorry, but that's just not your decision. It's mine, and mine alone. This is what the framers of the country had in mind.
Do I need a gun? Nope. In 47 years of wandering the planet, there's been only a few times I felt like I should really have a firearm. Military stuff and hiking in grizzly territory. That's it. Not time in Detroit or Guatemala City or Almaty. I've never even been in a fist fight. But the question of "needing" a gun is irrelevant for a lot of reasons. It's not a Bill Of Needs, it's a Bill Of Rights, and anyone who's a citizen has that right, the right to make his own decision about whether to supply himself with deadly equipment.
Herewith, a list of the common arguments against individual gun ownership, and my responses. Please read this with the understanding that I'm sort of reluctantly in support of what's called "gun rights." There are a lot of nutty people out there who have some sort of unholy love for guns and think that owning and shooting them are related in some way to religious ecstasy. I am not among them. I like going to the range and shooting holes in pictures of zombies, and I really enjoy shooting trap up at the local gun club. I also, however, happen to try really hard to use logic in my political positions, and that's what, God help you, is coming next.
Assault weapons: God dammit, there's no such thing. Stop believing and perpetrating this utter crap. What's called an assault weapon is a rifle with a pistol grip. It's horseshit. I own a rifle and a shotgun. Both are far, far more powerful than my issue M4 from when I was in the military. My M4 fired one .223 round per pull of the trigger, or 3 if it was set on "burst." .223 is a ridiculously under-powered round. It's high velocity, but one of the common complaints is that it zips through a body and the person shot doesn't realize they've been shot. Both my rifle and my shotgun will destroy a human life with a single trigger pull. Are they assault weapons? No. The notion that there are firearms in the world that are "designed for killing people" is a red herring. All firearms are "designed for killing" something. That's why they exist. Stop trying to separate them out. It's ridiculous. No one ever talks about banning the 12-gauge shotgun, and that's the most devastatingly lethal interpersonal weapon yet developed. A single blast from a 12-ga is equivalent to a burst from a nine-millimeter submachine gun like an Uzi.
Magazine size: It takes less than a second to change magazines. This is also utter nonsense. Maybe, if you haven't practiced or you fumble, it might take two seconds. The only thing a mag size law effects is how often you have to reload at the range.
Background checks: Yes! Check the background of everyone. Check the background of all citizens. Make sure that everyone who has a violent notion is locked up. Is this somehow related to firearms? Nope. Just take everybody who decides that violent action against another person is a good idea and kill them. Or, maybe, we live in a reasonable society where we can let people defend themselves and hey, here's an idea, improve mental health treatment, because when someone decides to perform a violent act, we often have some warning. And in those times when the warning doesn't exist, I'm pretty happy to know that people like me are ready to respond in such a way as to end the threat.
Which leads me to a significant point. I want people like me to be armed. I'm basically a pacifist. I really don't want, ever, to be in a violent conflict. I also don't want to practice my emergency medicine skills. However, I have significant training in both. I'm a former infantry soldier and trained at the paramedic level. I want to be able to manage whatever emergency arises. Had I been present at the Boston bombings, I might have helped. Had I been present in that theater in Aurora, I hope I might have caught the shooter and killed him before he went on to end a lot of lives and create a lot of human tragedy. Maybe I would have been able to grapple with him, but it seems like it would have worked better to just shoot him.
Okay, readers. Let me have it.
Just saw on Facebook a macro someone made about how gun ownership should be treated like car ownership. Well, no, it shouldn't. First, when you drive, you are making use of public property, and actively endangering everyone else on or near the road. The simple act of owning a gun does not have that effect. There are guns in my closet and a car in my driveway right now. In a few minutes I'm going to drive to the post office. In doing so, I both run the risk of killing someone and make use of government owned and operated property. If I decide to carry a gun in the process--here's the thing, pay attention now--I will NOT be endangering anyone. Carrying a holstered gun is closer to having a car in the garage. The equivalent of driving would be actually shooting the weapon, which I do on private property, at the range, or at a public range, where I follow the posted rules.
But more importantly, it's none of your goddam business if I own or choose to carry a gun. How and with what tools I decide to keep myself safe from whatever admittedly unlikely and random danger are my business alone. If you feel like you need to have a say in that, well, we have a fundamental disagreement about the role of government and what it means to be a member of a society. I'm perfectly fine with the idea of murder being illegal. I'm even comfortable with the fact that should I use a gun to defend myself or others, I will very likely be arrested and investigated. That's a good thing. In the unlikely and terribly tragic event that I have to destroy another human being, I fully expect an inquiry. I think that's a positive thing. While it's unfortunate that our court system is such that it will cost an extraordinary amount of money and time, I live with that reality. But I think that cases like the Martin/Zimmerman event should be placed under a microscope, so we as a society can figure out how to keep 17 year olds from getting shot. But the answer does not lie in regulating the tools. It lies in educating both parties.
Take a deep breath. Guns.
Okay.
A gun is just a tool. All it does it make holes in stuff at a great distance. That's it. That's all any gun does, no matter what caliber, design, shape, color, configuration, action, etc, etc.
You have to start any conversation about guns with that simple fact. They don't spontaneously explode and slaughter innocent children. They don't cause crime. They don't create serial killers. That's just not how it works.
The founders of the country, the guys who created the philosophy behind this place I live, understood this. They decided that any government that takes guns away from its citizens was wrong to do so. I happen to agree, and here's why. No one but me should have the authority to decide how and with what tools I decide to protect my life, family, neighbors, possessions, and livelihood. I'm sorry, but that's just not your decision. It's mine, and mine alone. This is what the framers of the country had in mind.
Do I need a gun? Nope. In 47 years of wandering the planet, there's been only a few times I felt like I should really have a firearm. Military stuff and hiking in grizzly territory. That's it. Not time in Detroit or Guatemala City or Almaty. I've never even been in a fist fight. But the question of "needing" a gun is irrelevant for a lot of reasons. It's not a Bill Of Needs, it's a Bill Of Rights, and anyone who's a citizen has that right, the right to make his own decision about whether to supply himself with deadly equipment.
Herewith, a list of the common arguments against individual gun ownership, and my responses. Please read this with the understanding that I'm sort of reluctantly in support of what's called "gun rights." There are a lot of nutty people out there who have some sort of unholy love for guns and think that owning and shooting them are related in some way to religious ecstasy. I am not among them. I like going to the range and shooting holes in pictures of zombies, and I really enjoy shooting trap up at the local gun club. I also, however, happen to try really hard to use logic in my political positions, and that's what, God help you, is coming next.
Assault weapons: God dammit, there's no such thing. Stop believing and perpetrating this utter crap. What's called an assault weapon is a rifle with a pistol grip. It's horseshit. I own a rifle and a shotgun. Both are far, far more powerful than my issue M4 from when I was in the military. My M4 fired one .223 round per pull of the trigger, or 3 if it was set on "burst." .223 is a ridiculously under-powered round. It's high velocity, but one of the common complaints is that it zips through a body and the person shot doesn't realize they've been shot. Both my rifle and my shotgun will destroy a human life with a single trigger pull. Are they assault weapons? No. The notion that there are firearms in the world that are "designed for killing people" is a red herring. All firearms are "designed for killing" something. That's why they exist. Stop trying to separate them out. It's ridiculous. No one ever talks about banning the 12-gauge shotgun, and that's the most devastatingly lethal interpersonal weapon yet developed. A single blast from a 12-ga is equivalent to a burst from a nine-millimeter submachine gun like an Uzi.
Magazine size: It takes less than a second to change magazines. This is also utter nonsense. Maybe, if you haven't practiced or you fumble, it might take two seconds. The only thing a mag size law effects is how often you have to reload at the range.
Background checks: Yes! Check the background of everyone. Check the background of all citizens. Make sure that everyone who has a violent notion is locked up. Is this somehow related to firearms? Nope. Just take everybody who decides that violent action against another person is a good idea and kill them. Or, maybe, we live in a reasonable society where we can let people defend themselves and hey, here's an idea, improve mental health treatment, because when someone decides to perform a violent act, we often have some warning. And in those times when the warning doesn't exist, I'm pretty happy to know that people like me are ready to respond in such a way as to end the threat.
Which leads me to a significant point. I want people like me to be armed. I'm basically a pacifist. I really don't want, ever, to be in a violent conflict. I also don't want to practice my emergency medicine skills. However, I have significant training in both. I'm a former infantry soldier and trained at the paramedic level. I want to be able to manage whatever emergency arises. Had I been present at the Boston bombings, I might have helped. Had I been present in that theater in Aurora, I hope I might have caught the shooter and killed him before he went on to end a lot of lives and create a lot of human tragedy. Maybe I would have been able to grapple with him, but it seems like it would have worked better to just shoot him.
Okay, readers. Let me have it.
Just saw on Facebook a macro someone made about how gun ownership should be treated like car ownership. Well, no, it shouldn't. First, when you drive, you are making use of public property, and actively endangering everyone else on or near the road. The simple act of owning a gun does not have that effect. There are guns in my closet and a car in my driveway right now. In a few minutes I'm going to drive to the post office. In doing so, I both run the risk of killing someone and make use of government owned and operated property. If I decide to carry a gun in the process--here's the thing, pay attention now--I will NOT be endangering anyone. Carrying a holstered gun is closer to having a car in the garage. The equivalent of driving would be actually shooting the weapon, which I do on private property, at the range, or at a public range, where I follow the posted rules.
But more importantly, it's none of your goddam business if I own or choose to carry a gun. How and with what tools I decide to keep myself safe from whatever admittedly unlikely and random danger are my business alone. If you feel like you need to have a say in that, well, we have a fundamental disagreement about the role of government and what it means to be a member of a society. I'm perfectly fine with the idea of murder being illegal. I'm even comfortable with the fact that should I use a gun to defend myself or others, I will very likely be arrested and investigated. That's a good thing. In the unlikely and terribly tragic event that I have to destroy another human being, I fully expect an inquiry. I think that's a positive thing. While it's unfortunate that our court system is such that it will cost an extraordinary amount of money and time, I live with that reality. But I think that cases like the Martin/Zimmerman event should be placed under a microscope, so we as a society can figure out how to keep 17 year olds from getting shot. But the answer does not lie in regulating the tools. It lies in educating both parties.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Fathers' day.
Huh.
I love my dad. He's a great guy. He's always busted his butt and sacrificed for me and my sibs. He's also a complex person in many ways, like everyone else. And while he says my mom is my "biggest fan," he's always been an incredible supporter. He's never let me get away with stupidity. He's always been willing to tell me when I'm behaving like a spoiled kid, which has been pretty often. He's got opinions...which are generally the result of thought and research, though we disagree sometimes.
So happy fathers' day, Dad. Thank you for 47 years and counting.
Huh.
I love my dad. He's a great guy. He's always busted his butt and sacrificed for me and my sibs. He's also a complex person in many ways, like everyone else. And while he says my mom is my "biggest fan," he's always been an incredible supporter. He's never let me get away with stupidity. He's always been willing to tell me when I'm behaving like a spoiled kid, which has been pretty often. He's got opinions...which are generally the result of thought and research, though we disagree sometimes.
So happy fathers' day, Dad. Thank you for 47 years and counting.
Back in 2004 or so, I was assigned to teach a weekend course for SOLO (www.soloschools.com) at Harvard, sponsored by the Harvard Mountaineering Club. For those of you not aware, the HMC has a long and glorious history in the annals of mountaineering and exploration. This wasn't my first time being there. During a previous visit, the president was showing me around the office, and I picked up an old ice axe that was sitting in a corner. It was inscribed, a gift from Ricardo Cassin to Brad Washburn. This is like finding Pele's cleets sitting around in someone's closet.
So anyway, I was aware of the club's prominence. Which made it even more startling when I got a call a month or so later from Lucas Laursen, who I think was the president at the time, telling me that they needed a medic for their upcoming expedition to Kyrgyzstan, and would I like to fill the spot?
Holy crap YES me? YES How will I find the money? YES This is like the trip of a lifetime YES the sort of thing I'd been YES hoping for and training for YES and teaching for YES all these years.
Uh, okay, sounds pretty good. YES!!!!!
So then there's an endless series of emails about logistics and whatnot. My military and teaching schedules kept me from going on any of the group climbs, unfortunately. I did make it to one meeting to say hello to the other members. Nice group. Thank god. I was going regardless, but it could have been a nightmare, had there been any jerks in the bunch.
I don't actually recall how I came up with the money. I was pretty poor at the time. I suspect I probably maxed out my Discover card yet again. However, it really wasn't that expensive. I probably spent a total of maybe $3,000, which isn't really that bad for a three week jaunt in an obscure little corner of the world. Most of the money went to airfare and food. There was also my portion of the cost for the outfitter who was driving us in and the basecamp cook and their supplies--including a live sheep, about which more later.
I took over my friends' screen room and filled it with (Hah! Predictive touch screen is suggesting "marbles" as the next word. That certainly would have been amusing.) adventure-y stuff. Because I suspect most people who read this are unlikely to have been on a mountaineering expedition, I'll try to remember my packing list. Clothing, obviously, polypropylene undies, fleece layers, a down jacket, shell gear made of Gore-Tex, heavy socks. Which gloves? I have a terrible time with gloves. They're never dexterous enough. If they're warm, they're so bulky I feel like I've got clubs instead of hands. If they let me use my hands like a primate, the gloves are too thin and not warm enough. I hate mittens. Etc. I settled on a pair of heavy warm ones that served me well in Alaska and another pair of "trigger finger" shells, gloves that are essentially mittens with a space for the forefinger. They seem to be a decent compromise. Another item that I never travel without is my wind shirt, a thin shell of ripstop nylon that balls up the size of a tennis ball. I covered the Crossland's futon couch with food, mostly dehydrated stuff, coffee and food bars.
Ironmongery, too. Ice axe, ice tools, carabiners, crampons, harness, ascenders, rope, a whole selection of cordage, my Leatherman tool, my stove and cooking gear, cup, bowl and spoon, camera and extra batteries, sunglasses. It seemed to go on forever. I wound up buying another large duffel bag.
Then there were the drugs. My father in law wrote me prescriptions for a bunch of stuff, mostly antibiotics of one kind or another, and some kickass painkillers, just in case. One issue with the drugs was that everything was likely to get frozen at night, so nothing injectable could go. I did make one exception for epinephrine, since we were all, except for Adilet who was born and raised near the destination, going to be exposed to new stuff. Over the counter stuff, too, antihistamines, Pepto, pseudoephedrine, aspirin, ibuprofen, acetaminophen, a few tabs of loperamide just in case. Temporary filling material. Topical lidocaine. A scalpel or two, trauma supplies. It went on and on and on. We were given several first aid kits by Atwater-Carey.
Boots. Jesus, as if gloves weren't enough of a pain in the ass. I finally settled on a pair of high-top approach shoes (think lightweight hiking shoes with climbing shoe sticky rubber soles) and my Koflachs, hard-shelled plastic mountain boots. We were also given boots by Lowa, generously donating a bunch of used rentals to the cause. I had no opportunity to try mine on until I got to the airport, so I had to pack my Koflachs just in case.
George and Laura were waiting for me at their place in Cambridge. They kept calling me, basically saying, "DAVE! What the hell is keeping you? Get your ass in gear!" and they were absolutely right. The packing process was taking me forever.
In any case, we all made it to the airport and juggled a few things around so none of our seven hundred and fifty three duffel bags was over the limit weight-wise. Turned out that the boots fit me perfectly, which was a little disappointing to George, who would have wound up with them if they hadn't.
Eventually, we wound up on an airplane. Now, there's an amusing side anecdote here. I was kidding with Sallie before I left, saying, "Hon, what if I meet a beautiful Russian woman while I'm over there?" and her perfect riposte was "Use a condom." So, of course, I get on the plane, one of these huge things the size of a concert hall, and the seat next to me is empty. I'm thinking, cool, I have space for my stuff, I can relax, etc. Then this stunning blonde woman comes down the aisle. Of course. Guess where she sits. So now I have whatever, six or seven hours sitting next to this beautiful woman.
For those of you with more salacious minds, the answer is no. We just exchanged a few emails.
Enough for now, I think. More later.
So anyway, I was aware of the club's prominence. Which made it even more startling when I got a call a month or so later from Lucas Laursen, who I think was the president at the time, telling me that they needed a medic for their upcoming expedition to Kyrgyzstan, and would I like to fill the spot?
Holy crap YES me? YES How will I find the money? YES This is like the trip of a lifetime YES the sort of thing I'd been YES hoping for and training for YES and teaching for YES all these years.
Uh, okay, sounds pretty good. YES!!!!!
So then there's an endless series of emails about logistics and whatnot. My military and teaching schedules kept me from going on any of the group climbs, unfortunately. I did make it to one meeting to say hello to the other members. Nice group. Thank god. I was going regardless, but it could have been a nightmare, had there been any jerks in the bunch.
I don't actually recall how I came up with the money. I was pretty poor at the time. I suspect I probably maxed out my Discover card yet again. However, it really wasn't that expensive. I probably spent a total of maybe $3,000, which isn't really that bad for a three week jaunt in an obscure little corner of the world. Most of the money went to airfare and food. There was also my portion of the cost for the outfitter who was driving us in and the basecamp cook and their supplies--including a live sheep, about which more later.
I took over my friends' screen room and filled it with (Hah! Predictive touch screen is suggesting "marbles" as the next word. That certainly would have been amusing.) adventure-y stuff. Because I suspect most people who read this are unlikely to have been on a mountaineering expedition, I'll try to remember my packing list. Clothing, obviously, polypropylene undies, fleece layers, a down jacket, shell gear made of Gore-Tex, heavy socks. Which gloves? I have a terrible time with gloves. They're never dexterous enough. If they're warm, they're so bulky I feel like I've got clubs instead of hands. If they let me use my hands like a primate, the gloves are too thin and not warm enough. I hate mittens. Etc. I settled on a pair of heavy warm ones that served me well in Alaska and another pair of "trigger finger" shells, gloves that are essentially mittens with a space for the forefinger. They seem to be a decent compromise. Another item that I never travel without is my wind shirt, a thin shell of ripstop nylon that balls up the size of a tennis ball. I covered the Crossland's futon couch with food, mostly dehydrated stuff, coffee and food bars.
Ironmongery, too. Ice axe, ice tools, carabiners, crampons, harness, ascenders, rope, a whole selection of cordage, my Leatherman tool, my stove and cooking gear, cup, bowl and spoon, camera and extra batteries, sunglasses. It seemed to go on forever. I wound up buying another large duffel bag.
Then there were the drugs. My father in law wrote me prescriptions for a bunch of stuff, mostly antibiotics of one kind or another, and some kickass painkillers, just in case. One issue with the drugs was that everything was likely to get frozen at night, so nothing injectable could go. I did make one exception for epinephrine, since we were all, except for Adilet who was born and raised near the destination, going to be exposed to new stuff. Over the counter stuff, too, antihistamines, Pepto, pseudoephedrine, aspirin, ibuprofen, acetaminophen, a few tabs of loperamide just in case. Temporary filling material. Topical lidocaine. A scalpel or two, trauma supplies. It went on and on and on. We were given several first aid kits by Atwater-Carey.
Boots. Jesus, as if gloves weren't enough of a pain in the ass. I finally settled on a pair of high-top approach shoes (think lightweight hiking shoes with climbing shoe sticky rubber soles) and my Koflachs, hard-shelled plastic mountain boots. We were also given boots by Lowa, generously donating a bunch of used rentals to the cause. I had no opportunity to try mine on until I got to the airport, so I had to pack my Koflachs just in case.
George and Laura were waiting for me at their place in Cambridge. They kept calling me, basically saying, "DAVE! What the hell is keeping you? Get your ass in gear!" and they were absolutely right. The packing process was taking me forever.
In any case, we all made it to the airport and juggled a few things around so none of our seven hundred and fifty three duffel bags was over the limit weight-wise. Turned out that the boots fit me perfectly, which was a little disappointing to George, who would have wound up with them if they hadn't.
Eventually, we wound up on an airplane. Now, there's an amusing side anecdote here. I was kidding with Sallie before I left, saying, "Hon, what if I meet a beautiful Russian woman while I'm over there?" and her perfect riposte was "Use a condom." So, of course, I get on the plane, one of these huge things the size of a concert hall, and the seat next to me is empty. I'm thinking, cool, I have space for my stuff, I can relax, etc. Then this stunning blonde woman comes down the aisle. Of course. Guess where she sits. So now I have whatever, six or seven hours sitting next to this beautiful woman.
For those of you with more salacious minds, the answer is no. We just exchanged a few emails.
Enough for now, I think. More later.
Friday, June 14, 2013
And so, like magic, I have a blog. A place where I can express any damn thing I happen to be thinking in the moment, and have a certain number of people read it, for god knows what reason. So what I really want to know is, what do you want me to write about? What do you want my opinions on? What have you seen me comment on that you want to explore? One thing that will guarantee this blog dies a deserved death is lack of feedback. If I don't have the sense that anyone gives a shit (see the title) what I have to say, then it's really pointless. So you tell me. What's the subject?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)