Song for Chuck on the 150th anniversary of his best seller

Is it your IQ?
Or I do?
They say the genes
Make the man

I'm a 501
She's slightly underdone
Some say we're made
for each other

When she moves
My moral compass
Finds true north
Her ancient wisdom
Sings to me
Sings to me

Denim camo
Cannibal with a fork
Gnawing and pondering
Gristle and quarks

I long to climb a tree
But gravity pulls on me
I'm walkin' in Darwin's footsteps
Walkin' in Darwin's footsteps

What did you do before you started running? Believe me, its never too late to start running. I've heard of 100-year olds who run the 100 meter dash!

The Army treats me fair. I've come to realize after 6 years of soldiering that your experience in the military is what you make it. You can sit back and let things happen, and complain to world, or you can take charge of your career and when things happen, you can decide how to deal with it. I'm doing well, despite being in Iraq until the end of the year. I'm happy with the way things are going by choice you know? How was the race? I've never been to Oregon myself, but I've always wanted to go and spend some time at the reorts on the coast.

Mar 12 2009, 06:18 AM, Ginger wrote:
So, in honor of the late Paul Harvey, here is "the rest of the story". The other side of that youthful hubris coin. The one that Ginger was flippin' off his thumb last night, like Nick Danger might do under a street light with Betty Joe Bialoski on his arm.

So Disco Daddy was feeling the pungent rush of junipers and letting his deep well of vanity flow like an artesian spring. In Azerbaijan they would immediately spot that as an "evil eye". The thin branch on the tall tree, the tall stack of bicycle cards, the thin ice on a late season lake where one should not venture. Because it invites a plunge into the cold waters of reality! Ancient cultures are smart enough to know this. Young (fifty something) westerners must be taught this lesson over and over.

Tonight I ran a continuous 5 miles for the first time since Fall Creek, without getting a calf cramp. I knew I shouldn't have danced in heels..............

Remember the first time,
someone took you
for a run around the block?
How about that first taste
of twenty six
oh, so sweet
and hot as a fever
Light headed we ventured
beyond greek mythology
Ultra beauty
alluring Aphrodite
I love this path
the glorious pain
where my young mind
Lifts from the mundane

Mar 10 2009, 06:28 AM, Ginger wrote:
So, here's another story (much more humbling, bordering on humiliating). But hey, before I start,let me say how I'm diggin' Solo's groovy stat rich entry! Maybe a new moniker for the bloke ought to be "Data". All I can say is I can hardly wait for my next run with Satellite Sam!

Now for tonight's bedtime story.
Two geezers, I mean cool old guys, were plodding around a lake in the Cascade foothills. They had three questions rolling around their masterful minds:
- Why am I running so slow?
- Should I drink that tequila being offered by those two homeless guys in that car?
- Where is that rabbit?
Over 2 1/2 hours later, the plodding was over and they pondered:
- Why did I run so slow?
- Good thing those homeless guys had tequila
- That rabbit is one sweet......well that story will have to wait for another night (tonight's story is PG)

Yoda and Ginger celebrate their accomplishment with a spot of kickapoo joy juice and start the drive back to town. About time Ginger turns the key, there they are on "Ph" street (time warps when mixed with one part endorphin, two parts pain and one slice humble pie). Ginger yells "see ya at Maryanne's party!", Yoda mumbles something about domestic consensus.

The afternoon was a bad case of deficit spending lacking anykind of serious stimulus package. Ginger bootlegged a couple of low interest beers and went out to boost the economy (with the Blondie).

Maryanne answered the door in one of those "little black dresses" every woman needs (and every guy wants to....oh wait, PG). I shared my depressed physiological economy and Maryanne (professional hydrologist) recommended a highly regarded recovery liquid - quinine. Next thing I know, I'm humming something about Aunt Jemima and gin & tonics start flowing like syrup.

Blondies and black dresses, dance music and sparkly balls (you know what I mean), and the night rolled on. Stimulus package or not, I was going to juice this economy.

Late that night I find myself at home, quick e-mail check confirms Yoda's decision to lay low. Ginger, feeling his oats (or juniper berries in this case), whips off a quick e-mail, shamelessly sharing his energetic prowess. Next morning, in an e-mail reply, Yoda respectfully acknowledges Ginger's youthful demonstration.

Stay tuned for tomorrow's humble edition:
"Saturday Night Fever or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

Mar 9 2009, 06:32 AM, Ginger wrote:
So, my sister and her husband and my other sister fly into town Thursday afternoon to root for their daughter (Chelsea) who is playing Lacrosse for Fresno. Chelsea played 4 years of college soccer (Houston, then Fresno). She had a 5th year of eligibility and the Lacrosse coach offered her a full package to stay on and play spring Lacrosse. It's the first year for the program. Title 9 requirements caught Fresno deficient and they needed to get some more women sports going. So they are a very green team. Chelsea had never played Lacrosse before!

A few days before the game, Chelsea's Mom (Janice, my sister) tells me she was thinking of asking the team over for dinner after the game. I said "No problem", thinking it's a 5-6 person team and we might have 10-12 kids over. My other sister counted 46 people that night. We BBQed chicken and flank steak, baked potatoes, pasta, bread, salad and pie. There was not a lot left over.

The girls amazed me. The game was like pairing up a young high school team with a top division college team - they got spanked! They were quiet but not somber when they arrived, they slowly warmed up to the evening (they didn't get to our house until 10:00pm) and by midnight the place was alive with loud, happy, fun loving college girls - and then the coach said it was time to head to the barn. Half of them gave us hugs when they left.

As the huge charter bus pulled off into the darkness, I thought how easy it would have been to think that was too much work and decline the opportunity. I'm so glad we accepted the offer and reaped the rewards.

With each succesive year I appreciate more and more how short and sweet life is (at least the part that plays out here on Earth).

I think I'm developing a sweet tooth..............