• More than good enough

    Around mid-day today I sat alone in my cubicle. With the aid of a carefully placed set of rabbit ears, EyeTV, and my trusty PowerBook, I watched the 44th President take the oath of office and give the world his first official address as President of the United States.

    At first it felt like it could have been better. I could have been around those I love. I could have been sharing this moment in history in the company of those who appretiate it as much as I do.

    Then I imagined Cheryl sitting at home. I saw a tweet or two from my cousin. I thought about some of you – some of whom I’ve traded quick messages. I thought about that crowd, and the address sunk in. I felt optimistic. I felt empowered.

    We all made this happen. We’ll keep making it happen.

    I don’t feel alone anymore.

    It’s a great day.

  • Another sign of madness

    I have the day off today. The day had many possibilities, until I felt guilty about taking so much time off for doctors’ appointments during work hours. This guilt made me schedule an appointment with my dentist for a filling this morning.

    Worse, I made it for early in the morning. So now I have the rest of the day off, I’m tired, my jaw hurts from the constant requests to “open a little wider,” and I have a drinking problem.

    In a way I’m lucky though. Unlike my wife, I’m not immune to the effects of painkillers. My dentist has this great stuff he swabs on the injection site that makes the novocane shot almost bearable. I’d be fine if I could just resist the temptation to look at the needle. Morbid fascination always wins out, causing a brief pause in my heart rate as the dentist prepares to go fishing for a rib, casting his LONG line into the soft tissue between my cheek and gum.

    But even the big ass needle doesn’t do me in… ruin my façade.

    I have a little bit of guy in me. He tries to play the part of cool customer, even as he’s hanging vulnerably from “the chair” (his feet several feet above his head). All pretence of coolness is lost when he’s made to open his mouth like a cartoon character, his jaw working at angles clearly well beyond factory specs, his mouth feeling like it’s approaching the same diameter as his head.

    “Sir, are you ok? Are you in any pain?”

    “Ugnh… nawh, eye feygnh.”

    “Are you sure? You feel like you’re trembling.”

    Yep. The gig’s up. I’m officially not cool.

  • Killing time

    Beth wanted to take a quick turn on the playground, so I’m killing time. Today’s hike takes us past the city’s hockey rink.

    Does the word rink imply ice?