racing

Last week I was talking to my shrink about running, and I told him that during running season (March-November, for me) I shoot to race once per month. So far this year I got March done and I have one coming up next weekend to cover April. May is out of the question since I’ll be recovering, and June is iffy. Even if I’m out of the cone of shame collar, I’ll be out of shape. July is doable if all goes well. I told him I wasn’t registering for a July race yet because that would feel like I was daring the universe to spite me. With a puzzled look on his face, he paused a minute, and then said, “That seems superstitious, and, frankly, quite silly.” Get yourself a shrink who calls you on your bullshit. So I signed up for the BTN Big 10k.¹

When we hear “all politics are local” I think what it usually means is that even the big, national elections are ultimately decided by the impact at the proverbial kitchen table. We saw that statement turned inside out locally this spring, where a school board race turned into a proxy fight over a global issue, specifically the Israel/Palestine conflict. It was as ugly a thing as I can ever recall seeing around here. This is a community whose larger politics are pretty much homogeneous. In the last two presidential races, we went well over 80/20 for the Democrat. We have vastly more in common than not. Still, somehow, some supporters on both sides of this race descended to the worst places any of us can go. Unforgivable things were said. I can’t help but feeling that many people are so traumatized by the events of this era that they’re just looking for a fight, something or someone to lash out at, regardless of whatever other commonalities they may share. And that’s not just a local problem. It’s heartbreaking. I don’t know how we’re ever going to heal.²

Last week I went to get an MMR booster. I’m in the cohort of the first folks who were double vaccinated in the late sixties, and it seems to be generally accepted that we’re all mostly immune. When I got the shot, the pharmacist who gave it to me asked out of curiosity if I had my titers measured. I told her I hadn’t. I just figured it’s been well over fifty years, and there would be few-to-no antibodies left. She told me that her class in pharmacy school all got titered, and only one of them had meaningful levels of the antibody. They all got the booster. She’s about 30. My unsolicited medical advice, worth every dollar you’re paying for it, would be that if you’re her age or older, and you don’t want measles, you should think about getting the jab.³

I got an email from American Airlines thanking me for twenty-five years as an AAdvantage member. I signed up back when I was working for Goldman and first started traveling a lot. It wasn’t really something I thought about; it was just a deal between the two corporations. I didn’t have much of a choice, and inertia or whatever has kept me their customer ever since. All the big carriers are about the same when you get down to it—may as well stick with one and rack up as much status as possible. I went into their app and saw that I’ve flown over 340,000 lifetime miles with them. That feels about right, and it also gives me some appreciation for just how much you have to travel to make it into the million mile club.⁴

Surgery countdown continues apace. We’re under three weeks to the knife now. I’m working my way through my pre-surgical checklist, which is stuff like getting blood work done, an EKG, a checkup, securing all the clearances with work, insurance, etc. All systems are go so far. The only thing I’m scuffling with is what to do with this precious time I have left before I endure six (or more) weeks of being a useless invalid. I feel like I should be cranking through TODO lists while I still can, but I can’t even find the energy for making the lists. Instead I sit around most nights and watch videos. What the fuck? Time to move it, dude. Shake it off.

It’s coming up on a year since Dad died. Fortunately, his affairs were all pretty much in order, so other than selling his condo, the aftermath was smooth in the logistical sense. The emotional side of it remains a bit raw. Mostly things are fine, but memories come up when I don’t expect it. There are hard moments sometimes. One thing I had been putting off, but finally got around to this week, was taking his record collection in to my friend Trevor’s store and seeing what they could resell. Turned out there was a fair amount in there that others may want, and they offered to recycle the rest responsibly. I wasn’t looking to make a buck, I just needed to get them out of the house. And if someone else can get some joy from them, even better. Dad would approve, I think.

To finish on a much higher note, we’re super proud to share that Leah has chosen to attend the University of Wisconsin in Madison this fall, where she’ll pursue a BFA in their outstanding dance department. It’s really inspiring to see her continuing her work in the arts. Do what you love, and let the rest take care of itself. I can’t wait to see all the ways she’ll crush it up there, and I’m excited to visit my favorite Big Ten college town (sorry, Evanston) to see her perform. Way to go, 🐝. Badger up!