Not too long ago, I had an eye examination. I like to make sure I’m seen at least every other year. If for nothing else, I like to make sure no early stage of glaucoma is coming on. As usual, my ophthalmologist flipped out the lights on us and then flashed the tiny alphabet soup chart on the wall and told me to read the third line from the bottom. To that, I said to her – I think I can read the bottom line.
In Junior high, was there anything more humiliating, scary and so full of life lessons than the gym class? By the time I hit high school, they had renamed it Physical Education. Physical Education is a much better term because we received education in so many valuable lessons and life skills; life skills that we would apply in our everyday world. I’m of course talking about things like learning how to propel myself up a 30 foot rope made of horsehair and then there was the lesson about how to obtain the self-inflicted rope burns on the inside of our thighs. The intention of this lesson, of course, was to teach us methods of applying Vaseline to ourselves or to learn how to walk like cowboys. I remember how proud I was the day I figured out that I could climb the rope in gym (hint: if you had skinny arms like me, the trick was to have clean sneakers able to grab the rope so your legs could do the work). Continue reading
In one of my stories I will list all the crazy connections I’ve noted between my wife and me. The story today is about the first time I ever saw Kim, now my wife. Continue reading