chicus.com

Mission Accomplished!    May 12, 2008
I came downstairs this morning to the following sight. A white plastic garbage can with the side of a computer laid across the top and two rather thick texts on the computer panel. Resting on the texts was this note.

Suck-freaking-cess. It's about dang freaking time. I left for work with a little extra hop in my step. He wasn't caught in a trap I had set but he was finally out of our lives.

I came home after dinner with the Bishop of Boykins, Raymond Bunn and Mike was there. I wanted to walk and release the mouse near a T stop around 3/4 a mile from our place. He wanted to drive about a mile farther. I felt it was overkill but agreed so we would both be at peace with the decision. I grabbed the can and shook it and waited for some activity inside but there was none. I decided we should look inside before going to the length of driving him away. If he was dead there was no reason to drive so far. If he had escaped, well, there was still no reason to drive.

I removed the lid and found an empty bag of tortilla chips, some crumbs, a lot of mouse poop, and...that was it. Sonofabitch. It seems that they moved the mouse to a different garbage can with a raised lip in the center. Therefore the makeshift lid did not fit tightly and the mouse escaped. Good times. Good freaking times. So, much like the famous banner hanging from an aircraft carrier boasting "Mission Accomplished", this statement is about an ordeal which appears to be far from over.

A small victory is that I have seen no sign of him in my bedroom in over a week. I am sure I will come to regret mentioning that.

Mother's Day '08    May 11, 2008
I walked out to get a coffee this AM and on the way back I approached a father and his two young children scurrying around the sidewalk. He kindly called out for them to move to the side and "let the man pass without tripping him" and they promptly made room for me. It was such a minor thing for him to do but something that does not, in my experience, happen often here in Boston.

I appreciate and hold in high regard that the father is teaching his children to be respectful of others at such a young age. I feel that is something my mom instilled in me and I am incredibly appreciative of that upbringing.

Thank you mom. Happy Mother's Day.

It Had to be Done    May 04, 2008

Dear Edward,
I wish I could convey to you how sorry I am that it has come to this. Please understand that if I had my way this situation would have resolved itself months ago.

It is time we go our separate ways. I have tried to make a clean break but you haven't been receptive to my attempts. I thought it was best that way. Like ripping off a Band-Aid the pain would be very sharp but very brief. Evidently you enjoy prolonging your own pain, and as an extension, my pain.

This is your fault. I accept blame when it is necessary and have been known to take on more blame than is truly due. For that reason I want you to take it to heart when I say I do not feel responsible for this in the slightest. I provided ample opportunities to end this quickly and you just won't allow it.

You should also know that this decision was not easy for me. I harbored guilt thinking of how this will all play out. I've prayed on it, asking God to forgive me for the pain you will feel at my hands. I also believe in karma and had concerns that an equal or greater amount of pain will come my way due to the way I am treating you. However, after much soul searching I have come to peace with the matter. I don't think anyone could deny that I have tried my best to end things more peacefully than this. I've tried so hard and been so patient with you. Therefore I expect there may be some discomfort in the next couple of days. You'll probably keep me up tonight, or maybe tomorrow. But it won't be long until I have pushed you out of my mind and am sleeping soundly again.

Yes, I have turned to my last resort against the mouse. It is this or he pays rent.

I Kneed a Resolution    Apr 24, 2008
Greetings Earthlings. Yeah, I don't know where that came from either. I will blame the weather and an all around sunny disposition for that rather peculiar greeting.

I had a follow-up knee appointment this morning. To refresh your collective memories I had an appointment with one orthapaedist in October where I was told no surgery and that I should lift weights and work out on an ellipical, bike, or swim and was denied my request of PT. In late March I made an appointment with a second orthapaedist and while I did not meet with him I met with his physicians assistant and was recommended no surgery (and to cease running forever) but was given PT to relieve other knee problems to see how that affected overall knee pain. Today's follow-up was with the doctor with whom that PA was associated.

To say I came out more confused than I arrived is an understatement. However, that is not to say it was a necessarily bad appointment. The wait was definitely bad, I arrived 10 minutes early but was led to an exam room 30 minutes after the time of my appointment. At least their magazines were current.

I walked into our meeting prepared to suggest no surgery. The physical therapy has done a great job of alleviating most knee pain. I am generally able to sit for long periods and walk or bike good distances without any real discomfort. My knee is far from perfect but I described as I explained to Dr. Mason, the pain is "tolerable". I told him I was not running based on the recommendations of his PA and the further explanation my physical therapist provided (basically that my bones were sliding around and could cause more fraying in the meniscus). As I said "since I can't run" he briefly interjected and said "we'll discuss that later".

Long story short, he asked if I was satisfied by not running; how I felt my knee as it is right now is affecting my quality of life. I told him I would prefer to be running but was making the best of the situation at hand. I reiterated that I have much less pain from day-to-day life. He stated that if I were to elect to have surgery I would be free to run and it would be painless. I was taken aback by this statement as it seemed to contradict what I had been told previously by 1 doctor I don't respect and two other health practitioners I do respect. At this point my mind began to race.

I asked about certain activities, such as tennis and hiking and was told that I could partake in any activity which didn't cause pain. He even stated that running was fine, until I mentioned that on occasion I could feel a click on the underside of my knee, which indicates my meniscus is flapping and getting caught in the joint.

As I said, I am confused. His words carry weight the previous doctors did not carry because I found him more apporachable and in tune to my lifestyle. They also carry more weight than the PA and PT because by nature of his profession and training, I believe he is more knowledgeable. That being said, it is still three against one. The message of the PA and PT had been sufficiently scary that I all but ruled out surgery as a last gasp at living a somewhat normally active life. And here he described it as an "easy" "ten minute" procedure that would allow me to continue life as I had 18 months prior. Amongst all this I am still trying to find out more about Eastern medicines and the chi meridian that is supposed to regrow cartilage.

I ended up talking to Kelly, who is also a doctor, and she highly recommended against another doctor. In a nutshell, she said I would simply come across as shopping for a doc, not an opinion per se. It furthered my decision to keep a log of how my knee is feeling whenever I think of it to really get a sense for how it is affecting my life. I can say for sure it is better but is it "good" only in relation to what I have become used to or is it actually good in absolute terms. Of course I am also going to make a list of questions and call him in a week or so to follow up.

On a different note, I am curious if anyone has stopped using Nalgene bottles based on the news that there is a potential carcinogen in them. I had heard of this briefly but was surprised by how many people in the last week have expressed surprise that I was still using one. I had chalked it up to "something new is going to kill me today but will be fine again tomorrow" but it seems as though I am in the minority for this one.

The Last Game    Apr 14, 2008
Sunday night saw my last MLB game for the foreseeable future. It was the third and final game of the series between the Sox and Yanks. Don't fear, because baseball is really screwing with the schedule, they have a 2 game series this weds and thurs before taking a 2 month hiatus. I'm not as bothered by the upswing in 2 game series as much as many are but I admit I don't understand it. Rather than giving the teams an off day or even a 4 game series to let them stay put for a while. Instead the Sox finished this home stand, travel to Cleveland for 2 games, NY for 2 more, and then back to Boston for another home stand. I just don't see how this is good for baseball. But I digress.

Mark, his father, Mike, and I headed down to Fenway for the nationally televised game (again) which meant an 8 PM Sunday start. As a rule I enjoy spending Sunday evenings preparing for the week but I can adapt, though it was admittedly hard to get pumped for the game due to the cold and the knowledge that Sox/Yanks games somehow always seem to end up longer than most.

I had bundled up similar to the way I did for Friday evening, donning long johns and jeans, two long sleeve tees, a fleece and a windbreaker. The wind was swirling through the park and at points was at our back, in our face, and at other points, the air was still...that was the best time. It was uncomfortably chilly, which may have played a role in what we saw.

Long story short, it was a pitching suck-fest. I believe that is in fact the technical term. It made for a very long night, both figuratively and literally. All told there were 14 walks in the first 6 innings. None of the pitchers had a strike percentage over 55%. Generally around 66% is a decent strike percentage, but that is a stat that can be misleading because hits also count as strikes so one can have a very high strike percentage but also get lit up and have an awful game. However, I think it is safe to say that 55% is pretty crummy all around. It certainly was this evening. I heard, but have not verified, that something like 10 straight batters had at least three balls in their at-bat. That added up to a ton of pitches and a lot of runners, which also caused the pitchers to work more deliberately (read slowly).

It was the worst game I have sat through. I take pride in not leaving games early, I don't understand paying for a ticket and then trying to sneak out an inning or half-inning early to beat traffic on road or rail. There have been two exceptions in my adult life--I'm not counting growing up because my dad invariably does understand the concept of beating traffic. The first was when the Sox were thumping the Marlins in 2003 and a group of 8 coworkers were at the game. They cut off beer sales and it was only the 5th inning, thanks to an hour long first inning which saw the Sox score 11. We were more interested in drinking that night. The second time I left early was Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS when we left in the top of the 9th with the Sox down 19-8.

We left this game after the 6th and I have absolutely no shame in admitting that. At the midpoint of the game we were 2.5 hours in. Normally after 150 minutes it would be around the 8th inning. It was tough. We left at the completion of the sixth inning with the score 7-4 good guys, it was just past 11 o'clock.

Talkin' Baseball    Apr 13, 2008
I'm preparing to attend my third MLB game in a week. I told you about the Cubs game last Sunday, I am about to tell you about the Sox game on Friday, and at some point I will probably tell you about tonight's Sox game.

Friday's forecast was for cold rain. All afternoon, while purging paper and CDs for our office move, I was wishing, nearly praying, for a rain-out that would lead the game to be rescheduled for July or August. It was all to no avail, though the forecast improved and it did rain less than originally predicted. In preparation for the chilly dampness I went home and threw on a pair of jeans with a pair of waterproof wind pants over them as well as a thermal tee, a long-sleeve tee, a fleece, and a rain jacket. Oh, and wool socks.

It started to rain lightly as Kirsten and I headed into the park. We were absolutely astounded and ecstatic to find our row in the upper bleachers. It was directly under the scoreboard deep behind center field. The seats 2 rows ahead of us were wet but ours were bone dry. It was a beautiful sight. I sat down and stripped off my wind pants and top 2 layers of clothes. I figured that if I didn't get used to being too warm I could adapt as the temp dropped and add a layer here and a layer there, staying near comfortable the entire time. It worked tremendously well, to the point that in the 8th inning I figured I should throw on my fleece--not because I needed it to keep from freezing, but just because I could.

There was a kid around 6 years of age sitting next to me and besides kicking me frequently there were periods where he would just make this whirring, siren-ish noise. If you remember Dumb and Dumber, where the one dude was making the most annoying sound in the world, it was kind of like that. And it was in fact annoying, though I tried to mitigate it by reminding myself that it was only annoying if I allowed it to be, which kind of worked.

At one point I was relaying the details of our purge day and move and told Kirsten I had grabbed three books which were being donated to a charity (three of at least 2000, so I didn't feel too bad). There was a programming theory book, a java programming book, and my finest grab of the day, Environmental Economics and Policy. I'm not sure how much of it was the nerdy materials being covered and how much was my nerdy enthusiasm for grabbing the books but the graying man in front of me turned around and flashed a bit of a smile.

While the Sox fell 4-1 to the hated Yankees it was still a good game. Wang was nearly untouchable, the only Sox run coming on a homer that Bobby Abreu somehow let pass to the side of his glove as he leaned against the bullpen wall. The Sox have imported Hideki Okajima's ridiculously catchy "Okie Dokie (scroll down a bit)" song from Japan and Kirsten and I debated the merit of the song. We ultimately decided that it wasn't cheesy for the Sox to use it because it was most likely a grass-roots thing and even if it was a marketing tool for some band, it wasn't done in America and has become a tradition of sort when he is pitching.

We saw 5-6 people get das boot that night, a pretty average number for a Sox/Yanks game. The best was a cat fight that broke out in right field where three girls had to be removed, the final one was fighting her ejection tooth and nail. Watching the two husky cops walking her down the steps was reminiscent of seeing parents holding a child by each arm while the kid kicks and flails about, the whole time knowing it is futile for the kid to fight it. High entertainment.

Saturday it cleared and warmed up. I spent the morning helping Ginger feed the triplets and got my first taste of having a baby spit apple-blueberry oatmeal all over me. I actually enjoyed it nearly as much as he did, likely because I don't face it daily! I went for a walk down to Best Buy to look at cameras and then was tempted to buy a HDTV but resisted. I'm teetering between getting a HDTV and getting rid of TV altogether...I sharp contrast to figure out.

Whatever, I will stop because the details of the day were quite pleasing to me but pretty boring to read. However, it was awesome to be in Boston with good weather and it did wonders to alleviate my Chicago hangover...not a feeling of unrest due to alcohol, but due to the fun when I was in the city.