A Spork in the Toad

Apparently I suck at this blogging stuff. Or I usta-did. The past does not equal the future. So there. dagnabbit!

I haven't worked out once in the past seven days. Haven't written a word of fiction. Barely made it through the work week.

I was a little worn out last Sunday - to be expected after running the 5K Saturday morning then the Saturday night card game with the brothers. The sum total was draining. But Monday morning I felt good enough to make a blood donation at Anthem on Monday morning. But by about lunchtime my throat was hurting, and from there it just got worse, and worse. I never developed congestion, or a cough, or fever. But my throat felt like it was coated with battery acid.

All week I schlepped around, getting through and barely meeting obligations, not making any progress on much of anything. Wound up in urgent care yesterday (Saturday) afternoon. No strep, no other symptoms, probably post-nasal drip (even though I felt no congestion or drainage). So the decongestants seem to be helping.

I am feeling more human today. Actually got out and did some weeding a little bit ago and may get a haircut (whoo-hooo!) I've also
started research for this year's fantasy football team - last year the Jerry Atrics were a bunch of doddering old farts, but this coming season we plan to be the dynamic, crafty powerbrokers of the Just for Fun League.

I've also developed an interest in Second Life, and may use that as a venue to get back into some coding, just to try to keep those tools sharp. The built-in scripting language looks reasonably well documented. So maybe it will be of value.

Analog has had "From an Unnamed Rock" for 23 days now.  Apparently they reject more slowly in Summer ....

Back from Wapakoneta, which was every bit as pleasant as I remembered it seeming when I passed through there a few times many years ago.

It's a clean and pleasant little town for the most part.  The Comfort Inn was quite nice and the service excellent. The Summer Moon Festival was pretty cool, and if it weren't for WriteShop tonight (and a card game with my brothers) we might have stayed an extra day to check it out.

The run was very well-organized, and I may go back next year for that reason. The course was flat, and a guy in the right condition could probably run a seriously good time.

I clocked in at 35:27, so I didn't hit my goal of sub-35 minutes, but this was the first time I've run under 38 minutes, so it's a personal best by a good margin.  I tried running with music for the first time, and that seemed to help, mostly because I couldn't hear myself huffing and puffing, so I didn't know how tired I was.

Afterward, we toured the Armstrong Air & Space Museum, which was worth the trip. The experience was somewhat similar to what happened when we visited the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum in Washington D.C. - standing next to a mosaic of the moon composed of images from one of the Ranger missions, I remembered seeing the same mosaic, much smaller, in low-res newsprint form in the Columbus C-J, and was immersed in a wave of sadness. I wasn't mourning my lost youth or all the water that's gone under the bridge since then or anything, it was a sense of loss, of what might have been.

It is currently chic to poke the corpse of the space program with a stick, and proclaim it a faliure. I could not disagree more strongly.  I find it impossible to think of the long-term future of the human race as being either a space-faring society or an unmitigated, extended Inferno. Anybody who can't grasp the basic concepts: The resources available to us on-planet are limited; There is a heavy, long-term cost for each on-planet resource we extract and consume; The resources available are nearly infinite once we build orbital infrastructure and the use-costs of those resources are negligible. We are already near or past the population capacity of Earth. Simply put, it's Malthusian decay or Heinleinian growth - which do you choose?

Here's a prediction: within the next century some bright little billionaire is going to snif an opportunity, buy a few thousand acres of reasonably flat land somewhere near the equator, and build a mag-lev mass launcher. He'll do satellite launches, and maybe tourist flights, and whatever other odd jobs come to hand. He will lose money and be the butt of snotty essays by the academics for a while. But, over time, he will be recognized as having built the first small piece of the infrastructure of the future. His is the name which will be remembered in the history books. Because it's the people who build things, or the people who create things (like J.G. Ballard, one of my favorite sf writers, by the way) who make a positive difference, who actually add value.

You can say what you want about Ben Bova as a prose stylist, but his Grand Tour sequence is probably as close to a workable "future history" as we have. Sure, there are all sort of technical and bio-med challenges implicit in that kind of thinking.  But the alternative is dystopia on a grand scale.  I'm just sayin ....

Anyway, to my new friends, "Hey," welcome to my odd little corner of our shared consensual hallucination!

My latest visit to the redoubtable Dr. Hughes was a mixed bag - my weight was down a few more pounds and my cholesterol was improved, both of which are good, but my AIC was pretty high, so she has me adding back the last diabetes pill I had had phased out.  Retrograde motion, grumpy Jerry.

My second 5K isw Saturday (See ya all in Wapak!) but I could barely finish a treadmill 5K yesterday morning, and my best outdoor time is still where it was in May, so my chances of hitting my sub-35-muinute target seem slim.  But ya never know ....

Mirabilis horribilis. 'Nuff said.

Haven't gotten "Unnamed Rock" back from Analog yet, so at least he's taking longer than usual to reject it. 



"

I keep forgetting to tell people about the graduation show for the improv class I'm taking under members of Pale Imitations: it will be Monday, July 6, 7 p.m. at the Upper Arlington Senior Center 1945 Ridgeview Road, (at the corner of Tremont and Ridgeview). Having mentioned it here, I will now dutifully remember to email the folks I've neglected to invite ....

I ran a self-timed 5K this morning, just for giggles, in 38:03 - that's some improvement, but not as much as I was hoping to see by now.  My next official run will be the Run to the Moon at the Summer Moon Festival in Wapakoneta, OH. Why Wapak?  One of the few things I regret about my time at the Troy Daily News was that I never made time to take the short drive up to Wapakoneta to tour the Armstrong Air & Space Museum. So, Kathryn and I will go up Friday night, I'll run Saturday morning, then we'll tour the museum and bop around at the festival the rest of Saturday.

My goal for the run is under 35 minutes. I definitely need more street work to hit that - treadmill training is nice, but just isn't producing the kind of improvement I need.

I posted "Funeral for a Mhobie" to the message boards at Baen's Universe to a rousingly lukewarm response, but the more I look at it the tone of the story isn't a good fit for what they buy. So it will be on its way to Orson Scott Card's InterGalactic Medicine Show shortly.  "From an Unnamed Rock" will go to Analog as soon as I get off my butt and get it printed, having been returned from Shine.  "Prelude to the Ascent" still needs a rewrite before making its way out into the real world.

NHL draft last night and today, and I took the opportunity to chat with some of the boardies at Hockey's Future during Round One. The Blue Jackets have evolved to the point where they no longer can expect immediate help at the draft, and I'll be very curious to see how GM Scott Howson plays his cards when free agency begins July 1.

And the Crew just took a 1-0 lead against the New York Corporate Logos in Major League Soccer action. So it's been a pretty good sports weekend so far.

The weather was better than expected, and I ran a respectable 38:25, too finish slightly below the middle of the pack of 1,500+ runners in the 5K. I could have shaved some seconds off that, but I was having so much fun I forgot to kick into high gear after the last turn.

There's something fun about being able to run through the streets of the city, with cops strategically placed to keep traffic from turning you into a greasy spot on the pavement. I'll definitely have to try it again.  My current plan is to look for two more 5Ks this year - maybe a June-July, and then a September-October, with an eye to getting under 30 minutes this year, then possibly trying the half-marathon next year. SO, we'll see ....

I finished the story I wanted to get up for this month's WriteShop, so that's good, too. Now I need to find a market for Mhobie, and start trying to get some momentum going ....

 

The Capital City Half Marathon (which I am NOT running) and Commit to be Fit 5 K (which I AM "running") are tomorrow.  I've been on a moderately rigorous training program and, despite some frustrations, have hung in pretty well so far.  I was a bit discouraged a couple of weeks ago when the weather finally turned nice enough for me to take it outside and start working on the streets.  I was astonished to learn that the ability to jog four miles on the treadmill does NOT translate into the ability to jog 3.12 miles (or 5K) in the real world. And, of course, this being Ohio, the weather then turned yuckky again, consigning me back to the treadmill.  But I'm still reasonably optimistic to finish in under 40 minutes (which I consider Satisfactory) but I consider my Superb goal (under 30 minutes) to be out of reach. But 35 minutes (I dunno, maybe call it "Pretty Damned Spiffy"?) remains theoretically possible.

The weather guys are calling for cloudy, chilly (temps in the upper 40s and low 50s), possible showers. That probably won't help my time any.

As part of the prep I bought a pair of running shoes at Fleet Feet Sports, and I was quite impressed with the honest, direct, low-BS approach. I got a pair of really nice New Balance shoes the feel great at a very reasonable price. So that was a good experience.

After this weekend?  Well, I want to keep running, and will probably find a couple more 5Ks this year.  I'd like to be ready to try the half-marathon by this time next year. So, we'll see.

(My weight and blood sugars have been annoyingly stable, but that's mostly a function of some questionable food decisions I've been making lately.

On a more constructive front, I've started getting up a little earlier, and have been writing 2+ pages per day on a consistent basis, so I'm starting to produce some stuff. I'll have a story for next month's WriteShop, so we'll see how that goes.

Well, off to a good night's sleep. Update tomorrow, most likely.

When I committed myself getting the weight off and becoming the person I had wanted to be, I dimly began to to form a vision of what my life could and should be as I moved forward.  Part of it was just my unwillingness to accept the slow decline I have seen in so many others - the gradual curving of the spine and expansion of the midsection; the slow, uncertain, quality of their movements; as though time was wadding them up prior to throwing them away. I felt it didn't have to be that way.

Last night, I saw a pretty good exemplar of the alternative.

Friday was Kathryn's birthday. We had scored free tickets to the Columbus Symphony's opening night performance, through Kathryn's work, since AEP is a corporate sponsor of the symphony. CSO was doing Holst's "The Planets" and the narrator was one John Glenn.  You may have heard of him - jet pilot, Marine Corps Colonel, astronaut, four-term U.S. Senator, first American to orbit the Earth?

Yeah, that John Glenn.  And I'm here to tell you that at age 87, he looks like he could sit down at the controls of a Stealth fighter and ger the job done. His posture and movement are still every bit the USMC Colonel. He still has the firm handshake and strong voice of an accomplished politician. His wife, Annie, is still at his side, gracious and pleasant as ever.

Putting aside the politics, the history, and all the rest of it, and viewed simply as a person, it boils down to this: John Glenn at age 87 is in better shape physically and mentally than a lot people half his age.

So now, at least I have clear picture of what I'm shooting for, in my long-term future. Not that I'm planning for running for the Senate (or applying to Naval Flight School!). But, ya never know: there's a lot of future out there!

Random Notes:

Michelle, the fitness instructor at Anthem, has me on a workout schedule and thinks it's plausible that I'll hit my 30-minute target for the 5-K run at the Commit to Be Fit 5K in May.  I hope she's right, and I'll work to make happen, so we shall see.

I worked my last Sunday at PetSmart today. I have Monday, Thursday, and Saturday left. I will miss the people - staff and customers. One mf my favorite customers, Einstein the Weimaraner, was in the store today but I didn't get a chance to say "Hi." Oh well ....

I started the new Year off right, hanging with Craig and Karen Jackson at their place, watching The Man From U.N.C.L.E on their flat-screen, eating too much (but only a little) and generally doing my own personal Big Chill.  Kathryn was home with the flu (her second consecutive New Year's illness - the holidays appear to be hard on the girl) so that was too bad, but the Blue Jackets won, and a good time was had by all (or at least, by me, which is all that really counts, right?)

Highlights:

• Gary Braunbeck asking me to time him on how long it took him to guess the titles of episodes in the Twilight Zone Marathon - he averaged about six seconds from the first camera shot before having the title, and he never missed. (Lucy got him the boxed set for Christmas last year ....)
• Contributing to the "Songs on Hell's Music Playlist - my selections were "Kung Fu Fighting" and "Saturday Night" (is nobody else haunted by the Bay City Rollers?).
• Bursting into harmony with Karen Jackson (OK, almost-harmony) on "Close to You" during the game mentioned above (to the obvious bewilderment of a young lady home from her sophomore year in college, who had clearly never heard of The Carpenters.).

So, it was that kind of a party, and I enjoyed it. Now I need to get together with the Jackson's again to watch the U.N.C.L.E. episodes written by Harlan Ellison.

On the 1st I tried my first timed 5K in the real world (as opposed to on a treadmill). I was hoping to hit 40 minutes, and came in at 42:58. So, not bad, I learned a lot and did much better in the second half than the first. So I think I may break 40 next time out and can reasonably hope to break 30 minutes sometime this Spring. None of this is world record pace, but it's pretty-much all Personal Best for me, so it's all good.

I weighted in at 231 on the 1st, so my goal of being below 230 for the entire year didn't happen. But I'm at 228 now and can live with myself if I stay below 230 the rest of the year. (I'd like to be below 210 by August, but we'll see.)

I've got Mhobie all prepped to send to Analog, and watched a DVD of the Jean Anouilh adaptation of Antigone as sort of a warm up to starting serious work on the novel set in my post-nationalist future. For me the fascinating thing about Anouilh's play was that it focused on an entirely different view of the source material, and went in a direction totally unrelated to where I plan to go. But it was useful to see how Sophocles' vision became a tool for Anouilh to express his vision.

Her can turn the world on with her smile.
(Oh, don't pretend you don't recognize the lyrics)

Her can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile.
(From the cloylingly cute use of the objective case instead of the nominative in the first couplet things improve rapidly.)

Well it's you girl and you should know it,

With each glance and every little movement you show it ....

We should never have been on that plane, but we were lucky to be there, the five of us bound for L.A. and a cruise down Mexico way. the original aircraft for the first leg of our journey (Columbus to Minneapolis) was found to be leaking brake fluid, so Northwest eventually stopped dithering, sent for replacement parts, and had us all de-plane.  We were fortunate enough to get rebooked through Newark, N.J., with only a couple of hours delay. Since we were getting to L.A. the day before the ship sailed, we seemed to be in pretty good shape.

And generally we were in good shape; our luggage was routed correctly and showed up with us, we had plenty of time to make the connection in Newark and even time for a bit of lunch.  All was well, except ....

Our vehicle for the long haul - Newark to L.A. - was serviceable enough except for the seats, which had been purchased at a Guantanamo government surplus sale. I would have traded mine for a waterboard in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

After 15 minutes - somewhere over eastern Pennsylvania - my spine gave out and I turned into a squirming invertebrate. My legs were taking turns going numb. I was too uncomfortable to read (and anybody who really knows me understands the magnitude of that statement).

I tried music, but my MP3 player seemed to be dying. I tried using my jacket to improvise a lumbar pillow, with no success. Kathryn offered me her pillow, but it wasn't going to offer anything the jacket didn't, so why should she be uncomfortable, too?

I considered getting up for a bit, but wedging myself in and out of the seat seemed impossible. Besides, I was lucky the guy net to me (I was in the middle, Kathryn on the window) hadn't killed me already. He seemed in no discomfort at all.

The one thing our Torquemada 747 had going for it was a high end A-V system, with LCD screens in the back of every seat.

I watched Ghost Town (a very funny movie) which got me through part of the Contrail of Tears. But eventually I lost the ability to focus on that.

I tried their music offerings, but couldn't get the volume above a whisper. ("Won't Get Fooled Again" is useless at that level, by the way.)

Then I noticed a "Short Programs" video category. What did I have to lose?  I took a peek.

It was episodes of TV shows, of course. (And you thought this digression was terminal, didn't you?)

Some modern, some oldies, mostly what you'd expect and hope for. Including a single episode of the Mary Tyler Moore Show.

This show, this monument to what even the most debased vessel (broadcast network sitcoms) can achieve when executed with skill and passion, was one of the pillars of my youth. It helped convince me I wasn't totally a mutant, that there was some overlap between my world and "reality."

The stories made a semblance of sense. The characters caught bits of the real world, as I saw it being lived by the people around me. The dialogue was remarkably and consistently excellent.

But most of all, there was Mary, perky Mary, who could tolerate and cope with and even like (perhaps even love?!) the various laughable people of her world.

Mary, with the heart-shaped face and the chestnut hair and the smile that said "It's OK. Really, I'm pretty sure it will be OK ..."

Of course she was my first extended crush. And perhaps more than that; it is possible that on some level she was imprinted on my psyche, like an upgrade to my BIOS (if you'll forgive a lame-ass computer simile). Note that I cleverly avoided the phrase "firmware upgrade" and the accompanying connotations.

It's not a matter of "type." Kathryn, my partner of 15+ years is not at all physically Mary-ish except for a pronounced streak of perkiness (which I have been trying to repress, thus far unsuccessfully). But on some level I automatically associate that look with the positive, open-spirited energy of MTM.

Does this explain my fondness for newsreaders of the Campell Brown and Robin Meade type? How many other near-Marys have I been unwittingly drawn to? (Please note: None of the major disasters of my life have been triggered by anybody even vaguely Mary-ish. At least, so far. I do not believe this to be a coincidence.) What unseen Mary-avatars lurk in my future?  (My present?!)

I believe nobody has any power over me which I didn't give them. But the giving is not always voluntary or even conscious. And taking that power back may be the hardest when the motivations are buried most deeply.

Anyway, halfway through this particular episode - in which Lou and Mary had asked station management for raises - I laughed out loud. And the various knots and kinks in my back began to unwind; just a little, but enough to let me know I was gonna make it, after all.

At the end of the show, Lou agrees to split the lump sum offered by management with Mary, telling her he had paid $2,000 just to see her smile. Then he adds the inevitable Lou Grant punchline - "It wasn't worth it."

But Lou and I both know that, really, it was.