Listening to My Body

I’ve been listening to my body lately, and this is what it’s been telling me:

Stop, Eyeguy, stop!

That’s right, an inflamed left Achilles tendon and a flare-up of my sciatica have knocked me out of marathon contention for this fall and left me wincing anytime I try to take a step over 4 miles per hour or so. Most of you can imagine how important an Achilles tendon is to running (as in, not optional), and for those of you who have never experienced sciatica, picture a 6-inch ice pick in the small of your back and the resulting pain which radiates from your buttocks down to your ankle.… Read the rest

The Greatest Alabama Fan in the World

She might as well have been sent straight from central casting.

She was fifty-something, a beautician or some kind of county court clerk if I had to guess, five foot two and 110 lbs if she was an ounce. Her nails were painted a glossy Crimson, her skin was leathery brown, probably from a few too many sessions in the tanning bed. Her hair was bleach-blond, her brown dirt, brunette roots proudly showing through. She wore a Bama tank top, grey sweatshorts and Roll Tide flip-flops. She was loud, salty and full of sass, in a Steel Magnolias, Ouiser Boudreaux sort of way (although I can assure you, she was no Cajun).… Read the rest

Awkward

So we’re on our way to T-town, and we stop at that nice rest stop on I-65 just south of Cullman, the one where if you’re going south, you end up on one side of the building, and if you’re going north, the other. That’s pretty cool if you ask me.

I’m standing there in my Bama cap and crimson polo, you know, doing what guys normally do in that particular situation. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense movement–an orange and blue blur. I look over and standing next to me is some yahoo wearing an Auburn t-shirt and visor.… Read the rest

Gameday Behavior

The University of Alabama promotes good sportsmanship by student-athletes, coaches and spectators. Fans must conduct themselves with good sportsmanship to reflect the high standards of honor and dignity that characterize The University of Alabama. Anyone associated with an athletic program or event should reflect respect, fairness, civility, responsibility and courtesy to others. Profanity, vulgar cheers, intimidating actions, intoxication, belligerent or abusive behaviors will not be tolerated. Fans attending Alabama football games are expected to stay off the playing field, including after the game, and will not throw objects onto the field.

Positive support of the players, coaches and officials is strongly encouraged.

… Read the rest

A Rush of Blood to the Head

I’m not talking about the Coldplay album–although it’s a good one. I’m talking about the rush of blood to the head that occurs anytime you take a good lick to your noggin’. For Garrison Keillor, a close encounter with a low-lying beam elicits the memory of his old battle-hardened, ex-Marine journalism professor at the University of Minnesota, Mr. Robert Lindsay. For me, it’s the memory of the understated brutality of my old, formaldehyde-soaked anatomy professor at the University of Alabama at Birmingham, Dr. Steven Zehren.

For the most part, I sailed through an academically challenging public high school and Harding University without too much difficulty.… Read the rest

Darmok and Jalad at Tenagra

Eyegal rightly pointed out to me that I left a very important show off my list yesterday. “Why, we used to rock Number One Son (she didn’t actually call him that but used his real name instead) to sleep while watching Star Trek: The Next Generation!”

And that we did. In fact, I used to think that I called him Number One because of the old Charlie Chan movies, but on second thought, maybe it was because of Lt. Riker (Picard–“Make it so, Number One!”).

Our two favorite episodes:

  1. “The Inner Light.” The Enterprise is confronted with an alien space probe which shoots a nucleonic beam thingy at Picard, causing him to fall into a deep sleep.
… Read the rest

Totally Lost

It’s not often that Eyegal and I get hooked on a TV show. Usually, we’re much too busy in the evenings to become regulars at anything, but I can think of three times it’s happened in the past:

1) Thirtysomething. This was a show about angst-ridden yuppies in their 30s with young kids living in Philadelphia in the late 1980s. We watched this show during optometry school when we were poor twentysomethings who looked forward to the day when we would have enough money to be angst-ridden yuppies. It all looked so good at the time, but reality is rarely as good as the dream itself.… Read the rest

Back On Schedule

The following conversation recently took place in a local health care provider’s office. All names have been deleted in order to protect confidentiality and the sacred bong bond between doctor and patient:

Doctor: “I noticed that your eye pressure is up a lot today. Have you been taking your glaucoma drops?”

Patient: “Yup, sure have Doc–religiously.”

D: “I don’t understand. Your pressure has never been this high before, and as you know, you have very bad tunnel vision from your glaucoma and you can’t afford to have your pressure stay that high for very long. Has anything else changed in your life?”… Read the rest

Each Moment Is, and Always Has Been, a Gift

I knew that drop off day last Thursday would be busy and unpredictable, so I took Number One Son out to lunch at Little Rosie’s on Wednesday to serve up a little fatherly wisdom along with some steak fajitas, chips and gaucomole on the side. So far so good: no apparent E. coli poisoning.

I started off by saying that if I were to tell him everything that I know that he needed to know as a college freshman starting out, that I would flat-out fry his brain. Instead, I promised to keep it simple.

First, I wanted him to know how I “backended” into my career as an optometrist, having never even thought about that profession during college, but instead seeking it out after my first choice of clinical psychology “didn’t work out.”… Read the rest

Dropping Off a Kid at College

We’re off to Tuscaloosa today to drop Number One off at Bama. That’s right, pull up to the curb, shove him and his stuff out the door, and then pedal to the metal baby!

I know, I know, it probably won’t be quite that simple. First off, you won’t be able to even find the curb for all the hundreds of cars ahead of you, and then there’s the small matter of getting the stuff up to his room. And do you think Eyegal is just going to plop all that junk in there without doing some “arranging?” I don’t think so.… Read the rest

Those Sunburn Blues

sun.jpgWith temperatures in the triple digits this week, I had a flashback to a scene from a few years ago when our family sought relief from those sunburn blues in the form of a jazz concert at Big Spring Park in Huntsville. Afterwards, the muse struck, and the result was a wee little essay (or is it a beatnik poem?) which was published in The Huntsville Times about a week later:

A simmering sun burns off the last of the July haze and slips beneath the rim of the Von Braun Center.

Over by the Big Spring, the Grissom High School Jazz Band tunes up for its upcoming European tour in front of a hometown crowd.

… Read the rest

I Spy the Eyeguy, A Reprise

My tongue-firmly-planted-in-cheek post of last week caught the eye of one Fusioneer who just so happens to be a former Federal gumshoe. Not only did she use her detective tricks-of-the-trade to “spy” a picture of me on the internet, but she proceeded to “Simpsonize” me as well:

mikes-simpsonized-picture.jpg

Handsome devil, don’t you think? I think he looks more like a Freudian psychoanalyst than an optometrist.

Now I was already aware that this former G-person (let’s call her “June”) knew who I was because I found out that she did several months ago (I have my own sources, you know). But June is no stalker, and we’ve traded some good-natured emails about cyber-snooping and other topics that I’ve blogged about.… Read the rest