Summertime and the Livin' is Easy

(Editor's Note: I began this post on the Tuesday after Memorial Day but am just now getting around to uploading it.)

I don't know so much about easy livin', but traffic was certainly light this morning as I made the trek to the office. The lack of school traffic and the fact that a fair number of working stiffs are on holiday certainly contributed to the paucity of cars in my way impeding me on my merry way. The one downside is that I didn't get to hear the end of a story on NPR. Hopefully they will play it again this afternoon or I will remember to find it online at some point.

The holiday weekend went by without much fanfare. I went to the farmer's market on Saturday morning and found some fresh vegetables and acquired some jam from a local farm. I ran other errands in the afternoon and then came home and fired up the work computer. Sunday was spent in a similar manner, trying to get caught on work things.

Memorial Day I got my fill of 'war' movies after watching one, and then played the last season of Trueblood on the DVR as I continued to bang things out for work. I ordered a pizza, ate some, and regretted the decision. Not that the pizza was bad; it was fine, but it was none too healthy, and I have been trying to eat better. Maybe that bad choice was offset by all of the vegetables eaten over the weekend, but I am not sure that it works that way.

My family was fortunate in that no one in my immediate family, even going back a few generations was a war casualty. We have had a lot of veterans, in most major US conflicts going back to the Civil War, but no deaths from combat. None in the recent comflicts, none in Vietnam, none in Korea (I am not aware of anyone that served here), none in WWII (although we did lose some family, they were not part of my direct lineage. One of dad's second cousins perished in the Colmar pocket in February of 1945).

This shortened work-week has been a blessing, too.

Crossfit?

One of the gals that I work with has dropped a lot of weight in the last 6-9 months. Like 50 pounds or so. A significant and noticeable amount. For the sake of discussion, we shall label her as "J". I have known J for about 4 years. We have become friends, through two marriages (hers and her daughter's), two divorces (hers and mine), a grandbaby (hers) and some surgeries (mine). J served as my 'emergency contact' a couple of times and drove me home after out-patient procedures.

So, after not having seen J too often as she had moved to another building in the organization and our paths don't cross personally and much often now professionally, I ran into her a about 6 weeks ago and was stunned at the transformation. I never considered her fat, just, like myself, middle-aged. Possessing that soft-ish body shape that most Americans in that age range possess. But J had dropped some weight. She looked great. Always perky, fun, and energetic, she had an even greater aura of positive vibes and self-confidence.

I asked her about her efforts, and she proceeded to tell me about the changes she had made to her diet and the exercise regime she had undertaken. Her son-in-law is co-owner of a Crossfit "Box" (they aren't called gyms) and she had begun attending regular classes/sessions there. J said that it had been tough at first, and was still tough, but that she enjoyed it. J suggested I give it a try.

The kicker I suppose was that I had been trying to exercise more on my own in the little gym at the apartment complex where I live. I would go 3-4 nights a week and do some cardio and maybe push some weight around the machines. I had messed with my diet a little, but not a whole lot, and if I am totally honest I wasn't pushing myself too harder. J mentioned that the folks at her Crossfit gym were nice, helpful and they were running a special - two weeks unlimited for free.

Free rings a bell with Jud, who can be notoriously cheap. Just ask Little One.

So, I loaded up some gym clothes one morning and agreed to meet here after work. It is also convenient, as the box is maybe 5 minutes from house (this proved to be very helpful). I was a little apprehensive and self-conscious as I am with most new things. As I surveyed the box, there were about 20 folks engaged in the day's workout and about 15 of us waiting for the next session to begin. There were more women than men present. Few of them looked really fit, although some looked really fit. Not body builder fit, but lean and muscular fit. The number of folks who appeared to be close to my age in my general state of disrepair lulled me into a false sense of security that I had experienced once before in college.

I will digress and share the college story. Once, as junior in college, roughly 1990, I decided that I would take an aerobics class. I figured it would help me get in better shape for the summer and my labor intensive job with the Forest Service. Heck, the class would probably be filled with hot girls and it might be a way to score a date.

I showed up for class and figured it would be easy. There weren't a lot of "hot" girls in the class, but the instructor was gorgeous. I took a spot in the back. Five minutes into the work, I was tripping over my feet trying to keep up, gasping for breath, sweating like an alcoholic going through rehab, and wondering when the misery would end. Most of the women in class must have been laughing on the inside at me. I would have been were I in their Reeboks. There were a fair number of "old women" in that class (read 30) who looked like they might have been trying to lose some baby weight. They didn't look like coeds, but they weren't obese. But they were in cardiovascular shape and I wasn't. They could move to the routines, and I could not.

From the second class until the end of the term I took a spot in the front. I think some thought I just wanted to be closer to the cute instructor, which was partially true, but not because I was trying to check her out or put the moves on her. I was a sweaty out of shape mess, which I have learned is not the best way to attract women. I moved up because I would sweat so much my glasses wouldn't stay on my head and I couldn't see  well enough to even see what moves we were supposed to be doing. By week 3 I was doing better, keeping up (for the most part), and my footwork had greatly improved. I thought that there might be hope for me yet, until the instructor said "today we learn a new routine so you don't get bored". A part of me died that day. I made it through the term and learned not to judge a person's level of fitness solely by their girth or lack thereof.

So, at Crossfit a experienced a bit of deja vu. After a short time I was sweating profusely and wondering what happened to all of the oxygen that used to seem so abundant in the air. After about 30 minutes, which seemed much longer, the workout leaders said "Grab some water and then we will start the workout." I turned to J with a look of terror and bewilderment and she explained "that was just the warm-up."

I didn't make it through the workout.

In fact, now nearing the end of almost my 4th week, I have to complete a full workout. I came close yesterday. Today I am so sore I am not sure I will make. I do have a lot more energy than I did 4 weeks ago when I began. I have lost some weight, but more importantly, some of the fluff around my middle. I even joined the 'box' and am on the hook for a year. It is significantly more expensive than a gym membership. That in itself will make me much more likely to go. They folks are nice and supportive. It is competitive, but not in a head-to-head sense (it may be for some), but it is more peer pressure to give maximum effort and to do as much as one can. My back issues and age (most of the folks are younger, but there are plenty my age and some older) do work against me, but I take it easy when I need to and wear my back brace to help my posture.

Watch this space for news on my ongoing progress.

And So, the End is Near...

The end of the school year, that is. Little One is released on Thursday for the summer. Sixth grade will be behind her. I think that 6th grade was my favorite of all of my years of school, apart from college.

I lived in Oklahoma when I was in the sixth grade. I went to school in a small town. I lived out in the country and road the bus forever and a day to get there. I was the first on one and the last one off. I enjoyed the fact that I knew where a lot of my classmates lived. And, I had some free time to finish homework or read on the bus.

Through the wonder that is Facebook I have reconnected with some of my childhood pals. It is fun to get a glimpse into their lives and see how they "turned out", and see pictures if their families, with kids and in some cases grandchildren. Some have moved away from Oklahoma, but most of them are still there.

Little One doesn't have too many big plans for the summer. She will spend some time with Nana (MOJ), the ex-laws (probably), and the EW gets 4 weeks of summer visitation, but she hasn't requested any yet. I will probably take her down to beach at some point, if only for a long weekend.

But the summer weather seems to have arrived. Today it is sunny and about 90 outside with a nice measure of humidity thrown in for good measure. Enjoy your summer, Little One. Play in the pool, relax, recharge, and 7th grade will be here before you know it.

Scene from a Chinese Buffet

I had meant to post this a while back, but never got around to completing it.

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I went to lunch the other day with Finicky. We visited one of the haunts from our younger days, a local Chinese buffet. You remember the younger days? The days when you could consume a none too healthy lunch, not fall asleep at your desk and then some how not gain weight from the experience.

We don't go too often anymore. It is a large restaurant. It is the end cap of strip mall in an older part of town whose best days are in the past. It is always busy. When you walk in, with machine like precision, the expressionless man asks "Two?" without so much as a word of greeting, but then it would slow down the process of moving the seemingly endless line of grazers from the door to tables. His next question, "Drink?" is asked without making eye contact, as he scrawls our responses on a ticket pad and then hastily rips it off and sets it down on the table, and he is gone.

Without ever sitting down, we join the other grazers in line. It is amazing to watch the clientele, most of whom are regulars, searching the steam tables as if they are going to find something that was not here the last 40 times they visited.

The grazers fall into a few distinct categories:

 - The Cattle: rude, but these are large, lumbering people who barely fit into the booths and are wrecking the profits for the owner. They often know what they want and pile it on high so as to make fewer trips. Sometimes they take plates two at a time.See also John Pinnette.

- The Children: Usually accompanied by an adult, they peer over the top, dragging their plates, often losing some food bits here or there. Sweet. Innocent.

- The lunch bunch: These folks are excited. Lunch is the highlight of the day, and they are more rushed to get their grub. They also talk over lunch, not always heard at the other tables.

- The Picky Eater: Generally, but not always female, looking for dishes that might be healthier than others. Looks at the sushi cautiously. Shakes head at the salad offerings and the lack of oil and vinegar for a dressing.

- The Laborers: These are the folks that work outside. Plates are usually piled high. Rushed for time. Need lots of calories to get back out and build/fix/do whatever they do to keep things running.

I am sure there are other groups that I have missed, and others might have different categories.

I enjoy eating there, but my pants don't fit so loosely that I can do it often.

The Politics of Severe Weather and School Closings

Here in the Deep South,  it is a well known fact that a mere half-inch of snow can cause school closures. I know that folks who live with snow laugh at this notion, and not without some justification. However, if you had ever been in the South when snowflakes begin to fall, the mass hysteria that can grip the populace is interesting. I hope that some sociologists get a grant to study it one day.

Just moments ago I received notification that the school Little One attends will be closed early. I have copied the email notification here:


THERE WILL BE A THREE-HOUR EARLY DISMISSAL OF SCHOOL TODAY.  EACH SCHOOL WILL DISMISS THREE HOURS EARLIER THAN ITS NORMAL DISMISSAL TIME.
BUSES WILL RUN REGULAR ROUTES.  ALL AFTER SCHOOL ACTIVITIES ARE CANCELLED - INCLUDING ATHLETIC, FINE ARTS AND EXTENDED DAY. 

There is a threat of severe weather this afternoon, including severe thunderstorms and tornadoes. I include here a snippet from the local newspaper's online edition:

As for the possibility of a more severe weather scenario, The NSPC predicts a less than 5 percent chance of seeing any tornado activity in the state, but repeats the warnings of possible straight line winds and heavy rain.
The forecast for most of the state calls for the potential of damaging straight line winds in excess of 60 mph and rain amounts from 1 to 3 inches. There is a wind advisory for the entire state with frequent wind gusts of 30 to 35 mph outside of the thunderstorm activity predicted.

Closing schools across the state with only a chance of tornadoes at 5%? 

Alabama does have a history of deadly tornadoes, and as recently as April 2011 we had a series of really bad storms. I understand the need to alert and warn the populace of the storms, but are the community's children safer dispersed or together at the schools? From a purely statistical point of view, I would think that if there were a tornado, the odds of losing the life of a child is greater if the children are dispersed. If all of the kids were in school and the school were hit by a tornado, then the chance for a catastrophic loss of life is present.

There is no easy answer for this. I deal in risk analysis for a living, and I suppose when I think about that dispersing the children makes the most sense if the ultimate goal is to reduce the overall risk to the student population. There are other factors to consider, though. It is no big deal for me to work from home, or if I had to, to use 1/2 of a vacation day to collect Little One. There are many families that may not be as able to miss work, or arrange for transportation or child care for the wee ones.

What is the economic impact in the loss of productivity from all the parents that have to leave work early, both for the workers and the employers? I know that we like to think that we cannot equate a human life - and especially a child's life - to a numeric equation that involves a dollar sign, but that should be a factor in the equation. I understand that the school should not consider the economic impact of the decision, as that is not their mission. But perhaps as a community we should.

I know that in my state the threat of tornadoes is very real, and memories of widespread destruction of property and the loss of life are vivid and terrible. Perhaps these are driving the decisions of the day.

Crying Wolf: A Cautionary Tale

We all of have our quirks. Beyond that, we all have patterns of behavior. Many of these are conscious acts. I find quite a bit of comfort in my morning and daily routine of the work week. We also have patterns of behavior that we are not necessarily aware of but can be quite obvious to those around us.

Please allow me this disclaimer: I am a flawed, vain, selfish and often lazy creature.  I know this. I a, also certain that others can point out my eccentricities of behavior better than I can, and certainly those of which I am not aware, or choose to ignore.

But this post isn't about me, but about the EW. Yesterday the EW was taken to the hospital complaining of chest pains. She thought she was having a heart attack. Little One was with her and got to ride in the ambulance. The EW tried to reach me and drop off the Little One but I couldn't be reached. I was deep in a drug aided sleep. I had taken some non-prescription sleep aids and left my phone in the living room when I went to bed. I missed calls from the EW, Little One and MoJ. Little One even pounded on the from door, but I slept one for several hours.

I am sure that the EW thought I was up to shenanigans, but sadly I was alone, Morpheus had taken deep into his land. When I woke from slumber, my first thought was not to go for my phone. Who calls me on weekends? Apart from the odd call from a friend or a family member, one. And certainly not a call before noon. I also didn't expect any calls from work that early because we didn't install any new software over the weekend (next code push is Wednesday, so I do expect emails and possibly calls all night Wednesday and into Thursday AM). I rose, showered, dressed and prepared to head to a leisurely, decadent breakfast. When I grabbed my phone I saw that I had been sought by lots of folks.

I called the EW and she was safely at the ER I headed that way. When I arrived, I was greeted outside by the College Boy (step son - or is it former stepson since we are divorced? What is the etiquette here?). He guided me back and I saw the EW  and Little One standing beside her. The EW said she had had a heart attack. College Boy had told that the initial tests had come back negative. The EW was being admitted for observation as the cardiologist was not working that day and they wanted to keep an eye on her.

I am not a doctor. The EW may well have had a heart episode or even a small heart attack. Time will tell. She is in her early 40s. She is a smoker. She is overweight. Not morbidly obese, but probably 25-35 pounds over her age/height target. She also has some sort of mitral valve prolapse, but this has never required medication or treatment, apart from antibiotics in conjunction with dental procedures.

The EW does a have a pattern of finding herself I. The hospital when relationships are in trouble. It happened several times with me. It happened on a couple of occasions with her last girlfriend. After speaking with College Boy, the current girlfriend moved out on Saturday. Sunday found the EW in the hospital. I tended to come to her side when we were married, even if I didn't want to be there. Towards the end of our marriage, I didn't maintain the 24 hour bedside vigil. I knew the drill. The last girlfriend didn't, either. The current girlfriend apparently was a no show.

I hope that the EW is blessed with a long, healthy life. I hope she lives to see her children grown, graduating, married and have children of their own (should that be their desire). I hope that she determine what makes her happy in this life and then finds it. Maybe I need to do the same.

Singin' in the Rain

It is a dull, grey, drizzly day here in my corner of the Deep South. I enjoy rain generally, and the bright spot to this rain is that it is helping to knock a lot of the pollen out of the air. The rivulets in the gutters are topped with a film of yellow pine pollen.

Little One likes the song that serves as the title of this post. She has chosen it as her music for an upcoming ice skating competition. It is her "showcase" piece, and tonight we will seek out a yellow raincoat and some rain boots. Boots you ask? Yes, we will get them large enough that we can cut out the soles and cover her ice skates with them. I am not sure if an umbrella will be involved or not, but I think it might be a nice prop to have as long as it doesn't through off her balance or distract her from her routine.

I myself have been singing different tunes of late. I found an obscure album online and purchased it from iTunes. My father had the LP years ago and made a copy for me on cassette. It was quite giddy when I found it and now these songs are once again in my head. If you have an interest in folk music you might want to check it out. Little One was not impressed, but I will still sing in the rain on the drive home tonight.