Fred Thompson out — good. I think.
Heath Ledger dead? — Bad.
I’m hoping this was an accidental overdose rather than a suicide. I liked the kid. I thought he was a pretty good actor. I loved “A Knight’s Tale.” And just when he’s breaking new career ground as The Joker in the upcoming Batman movie, he’s gone.
Whew! Sure was a lot of gravity last night. I think it may have gusted up to 1.5 Gs or so.
I felt heavy, anyway. Coming out of my newspaper office last night, I noticed how tired I was, and how “compressed” I felt. For a moment as I thought about it, it really did feel like I was carrying a 45-pound backpack.
Yet I woke up this morning thinking how good I felt.
Which is a topic all its own: I should tell you I have this weird ability to maintain tension even when I’m sleeping. I developed it over the course of years, I think mainly because I read in bed at night. When I was younger, I’d fall asleep and drop the book, but over the years this came to happen less and less, until finally I’d wake up hours later still holding the book in position for reading. My subconscious had learned gradually to hold the book in place without dropping it. The ability generalized to my whole body eventually, so that if I went to bed clenched up from the day, I’d maintain the tension all night long and wake up the same way.
Continue reading “Day 4 – Too Much Hank: Invincible Spring”
This was a good day. Ate light, had a really good workout at the gym, and then got to visit with my good friend Carl Buell, the world-class wildlife illustrator and all-around great guy.
Argh. It’s like I’ve been zapped by Care Bears.
I do feel indefinably lighter, though.
I have these sayings I make up, stuff I call “Wise Old Sayings I Just Made Up” — which I sometimes refer to by the clumsy acronym WOSIJMU.
I’ve been wrestling with one about the subject of getting back into the gym after an absence of months or years. The beta version goes:
In 3 days you’ll be stronger.
In 3 weeks you’ll feel better.
In 3 months you’ll be changed forever.
It’s meant to encourage people to get back into the gym.
Are you encouraged?
In full diet/exercise “get back in shape” mode, food is ever on my mind. A fellow blogger writing recently about a picky eater in the family sparked this:
I remember how EASY life got after I just started trying all the new foods I was presented with. And damn! Some of them – sushi!! – were GOOD!
I have friends back in Texas who have never had sushi and never will – you couldn’t get them in the same room with it – and darned if that isn’t a tragic loss for them. If I was 12 years old and you presented me with a foot-high chocolate sundae with a gallon of whipped cream and a pound of walnut sprinkles, I couldn’t love it any more than I love sushi. This weird-looking, conceptually freaky – OH MY GOD IT’S RAW FISH!!! – stuff is food so great poor people like me shouldn’t be allowed to have it.
And I never would have known it if I hadn’t tried it.
For me, there was a pivotal moment in trying new things, and it actually came in reading about a dog’s sense of smell.
Continue reading “Picky Eaters”
I had the obligatory withdrawal headache last night. I’d been waiting for it. Anybody who’s ever gone cold turkey on sugar or coffee (in my case, both) probably knows about it. It’s this dull pain that just hangs on for hours, a headache that seems to extend down into the back of your neck. You can’t even lie on a pillow comfortably, but the only hope of getting rid of it is to sleep it off. Which I did, finally.
I feel good this morning! Whoo-hoo! Not as alert as I might with coffee, but all-in-all not too bad.
Someone in the comments suggested I try a sugar substitute, rather than giving up coffee because I was giving up sweetened creamer, and I started to explain in a reply comment my feelings about sugar substitutes. I couldn’t find a short way of explaining without sounding like a luddite, so I thought I’d go into it here. So:
Continue reading “Day 2 – Too Much Hank: Farewell to Sugar”
As Day 1 of my Too Much Hank campaign winds down, I recount my successes. Today I went to the gym — yay, me! The computer thingie hooked up to the machines I use said I “lifted” more than 8 tons in my workout. Since the action of each machine isn’t always a lifting one, I prefer to think I “moved” 16,000+ pounds … a very, very short distance. But it was a good workout. I went through the regimen twice, and I feel good about that. I also did a one-mile walk.
This morning for breakfast, I had a fruit smoothie, something I tinkered up a month or so back: In a big plastic pitcher, toss one banana, 5 frozen strawberries, 4 frozen peach slices, 3 tablespoons of frozen blueberries, two cups of milk and a scoop of protein powder. Crank a wand blender down into it and blend until the fruit’s all pureed. Pour into a glass and guzzle, smacking lips and making appreciative “guy” sounds. If you’re aiming for a daily 6-8 servings of “F&V” — fruits and vegetables — you’re starting the day with three already accounted for.
Continue reading “Day 1 – Too Much Hank”
Yeah, I know the color balance of this pic is lousy. I’ll post more later with better color. But I wanted to get this one up today.
On January 19, 2008, this is me at 190 pounds. The guy you’re looking at is 5 feet 3 inches tall. I like to say “I carry it well,” but the truth is, from inside, being like this doesn’t feel good at all. I DON’T carry it well. I gasp, I labor, I trudge. It’s like I’m carrying around a 45-pound backpack, 24 hours a day.
When I go to the zoo, the lady rhinos come over and wink at me. I kept swatting at an annoying fly a few days ago before I realized it was a small moon in orbit. I was backing up yesterday and heard a beeping sound.
I want to change that. I’m going to do it publicly in order to put myself on the hook in front of everybody for actually accomplishing it. Which makes me nervous. What if I fail? I mean, *I* know I’m a complete doofus, but I don’t necessarily want everybody else to know it.
Anyway, here I am at Day 1. My expression looks like “I’m going to eat you and your entire family,” but it’s really me laughing at the ridiculousness of being this big.
The last straw was when Macy’s contacted me and asked me if I’d like to be in this year’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. On guy wires.
The site crashed sometime after midnight — likely all the traffic that came my way as a result of mention on Pharyngula. I upped the bandwidth dramatically; I think it’s fixed.
Like I say below, I’m still working out the bugs.
And still fumbling my way through learning WordPress. Kindly ignore the sawdust and debris — and the Kindergarten appearance — until I get things all fixed up.
I’ve been away for a year writing books and sitting on my fat ass gaining weight. I have some ambitious plans for the site, and for the next phase of my life. (First of which is that the fat ass has got to go. But also look for an announcement sometime this spring for a Very Big Project that I think will attract a lot of interest.)
Come back and visit when you can!
PS: Until I can figure out how to post it as a link in the sideboard, check out what I do now at
After being a magazine / newspaper editor and writer for 22 years, I’m doing proofing and editing — and copy writing — freelance now. (Doesn’t mean I won’t make lots of mistakes here. Just means I get paid to tell other people about theirs. And I’m GOOD at that.)
You need me to proofread your writing, and help you make it better. You know you do. 🙂
I had a geometry teacher in high school in about 1968 or so, a certain Miss King, one of those rare teachers you have who leaves a permanent mark.
This was the mark she left:
Sometimes, there is only one right answer.
I was pretty good in school, producing a decade or so of straight A’s without much trouble, but even I occasionally got the wrong answer. Mixed in with the lessons I absorbed for most of those years, though, was the lesson of “partial credit.” If the answer to a test question was “hydrocarbons” but you put down “carbohydrates,” you could usually wheedle at least half credit. Considering the infinite number of possible answers that would include neither “hydro” nor “carbo,” lots of times the teachers would give you more than half credit, sometimes as much as 80 percent. Because you almost got it right.
The lesson, that pretty close is often good enough, certainly affected our aim. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one caught up eventually in providing answers that were only good enough.
But in life, even in the safe, rich life so many of us enjoy in the West …
Continue reading “Thank you, Miss King”