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

The Naked Dream

“The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.”

–Genesis 2:25

“Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.”

–Genesis 3:7

Yesterday was Number Three Son’s first day of public high school. Like his brothers, he was homeschooled for the first eight years (oh my, the poor barefoot, sheltered, undersocialized, top-buttoned-up little thing!) and now we’re turning throwing him into the deep end of the pool. Sink or swim, son. That’s life.

He woke up considerably earlier than usual yesterday and made the necessary ablutions and preparations (including turning on the early edition of Sports Center).… Read the rest

I Spy the Eyeguy

A small minority of Fusioneers are apparently starting to clamor for an Eyeguy sighting. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why, but facts are facts.

I tried to give readers an idea of what I looked like here. I even dropped another not-so-subtle hint here (Quick! Somebody slather that boy’s head with Dippity Do!). But apparently even those weren’t enough.

Alright already. I’ve hesitated to post this because I really try hard not to rub it in. But remember, you asked for it.

Here I am.

… Read the rest

Archives

One of my favorite parts about visiting my Mom in Virginia is exploring the museum that is her house and searching among the archives and exhibits for long lost treasures.

Among the items that I’ve found (and rescued) in the past:

  • My collection of Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars (unfortunately, I couldn’t locate the Hot Wheels Supercharger Sprint Set)
  • My baseball and sports card collection (and it is a very good one if I have to say so myself)
  • My scrapbooks from elementary, junior high and high school which contain old class pictures and portraits, 4-H and church camp ribbons, newspaper clippings containing my super-amazing, jaw-dropping feats on the tennis courts and cross country trails (heh), my acceptance letter to Duke University and goofy letters from an old high school girlfriend which still hold the slightest hint of perfume.
… Read the rest