• Greatness is measured over time

    There are three possible reasons why I didn’t write anything before now about the Lightning winning the Stanley Cup.

    1. I just didn’t feel like it.
    2. I was waiting for the emotions of the moment to ebb, in order to present a well reasoned and balanced accounting of the events.
    3. I just woke up from a month long coma.

    If I thought about it a little longer, I could probably come up with a whole slew of reasons why I might not have written anything yet, but why push my luck with an over-taxed mind?

    —

    “Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been 32 years and I’ve never gone to confession. The reason I have not written about the Lightning before now, well, I just didn’t feel like it.”

    “Do you know the act of contrition, son?”

    “No.”

    “Just as well, it wouldn’t be enough anyway.”

    —

    In my defense, there are just some things that I can’t capture in writing. I haven’t written about the day my only child was born, nor have I written much about the day I was married. The Tampa Bay Lightning, Stanley Cup Champions, just seemed too ridiculous, too unlikely, so perfect; I just don’t know how to begin to write about it.

    No, I’m not quite that shallow; the Stanley Cup is not as big as seeing my child born. However, it was a singular moment, unique unto itself. Memories of Vinny scoring in the last moments to quiet the fans in Montreal, of Brad all but putting them away with a ricochet of the goalie’s skate in OT, of the whole team pushing back against the Flyers, of Fedotenko finding a scoring touch, of players too tired for emotion after game six in Calgary, of the Wall sliding to cover both sides of the goal in the span of a single moment to preserve the last win, of the final countdown before the last game was over, they all put a smile on my face.

  • What do you fear?

    Death? Taxes? The Yankees wining another World Series? A six year old child with an attention deficit, a pinch of hyperactivity, and a bow and arrow?

    Yes, Beth had a busy day on Wednesday. I was picking her up from camp and her group leader was explaining all of the activities they participated in that day. They started with a hike through a local park, followed by some canoeing, another hike, swimming at the pool, and an archery class.

    Beth’s group leader was running down the laundry list of activities while I was packing up Beth’s stuff, preparing to herd her out the door. Growing up with two sisters, I have a well honed talent for tuning people out. It is my blessing and my curse. As a result, I didn’t realize Beth’s group leader had used the word “archery” until I was pulling up the driveway at my house.

    Surely they weren’t using real arrows. I guess we’ll never know, unless we’re served with papers.

  • Near and dear

    They say it is easiest to write about the things which are closest to your heart. So I ask myself, “What is close to your heart this morning?” Like just about every other morning, I think the answer would have to be my left lung.

    The author does not wish to hear from any smart-ass M.D.s talking pericardium smack.

    I can’t really think of much to say about my left lung. As far as I know it’s pretty healthy. It seems to be doing its job. It is one of many organs which are easy to take for granted. Unless you’re suffering from a really bad cold, or you just spontaneously jumped out of your desk and did a few laps around the office, you don’t typically think much about your lungs – much less your left one. Admit it; when was the last time you seriously thought about the gaseous equivalent of grand central station? When was the last time you had alveoli on your mind? When have you ever drawn up your bronchial tree? When did you ever consider the role of hemoglobin and bicarbonates in gas transfer?* The stomach? Now there’s an organ! It may not be glamorous, but it comes up all the time. I’m hungry! I’m full! I exercised too hard and I want to puke! That’s your stomach in action, right up there on the front lines, hogging all of the glory. Your brain? Oh, the brain! Glamour, mystery, influence; your brain has got it all. When doesn’t the brain try and take some of the credit for something going on? Your poor lungs on the other hand only get noticed when something goes wrong.

    O.K., maybe the lungs have it better than the pancreas; but the pancreas couldn’t hold the lung’s pulmonary artery. Pound for pound, the lungs could be the heaviest organ in the thoracic cavity. The pancreas can’t say that!**

    Do your lungs a favor, give ’em a little credit where credit is due.

    *The author feels compelled to come clean; he has no idea if the roles of hemoglobin and bicarbonates are analogous. The last time he had any academic exposure to biology or chemistry was high school.

    **The author believes the pancreas resides in the abdominal cavity, not the thoracic cavity. The author further admits that he has no earthly idea what the pancreas does, nor does he really care to.