Shallow Thinker

Sometimes we see things that we want and we eventually learn that we can live without them.  But sometimes, you just really, really like something and it sticks with you until you finally give-in.  I’m not like that…not at all:

It’s a GPS for running and it’s awesome!  It tracks speed, altitude, distance, heart rate, calories, average pace, bank accounts, life changes, and sex drive.  It’s pretty cool.  And I can hook it up to my computer and have the thing map out my run on google maps.  I can see what parts of my run were the fastest, slowest, highest heart rate, you name it.  I actually enjoy running with this thing, but my time has slowed way down because I’m too busy pressing the buttons and playing with it instead of concentrating on the road.  And, with all of this magical science, I have realized something about my running patterns.  I seem to run much faster going downhill than I do going uphill.  Isn’t that amazing?!

This weekend carried a lot of activity. On Friday morning, my mom took the girls to her house and left Kelley and I alone in the kitchen with buckets of paint and a few free hours. We’ve been working on our kitchen for over a month and this past weekend was a push to get it much closer to finished. On Friday morning we painted. That afternoon, we painted. In the evening, Kelley allowed me a break for some supper and a movie. After the movie, she forced me back to work with more painting.  Around 11:30, she let me go to sleep but told me that I’d better get up early in the morning for more work.  I think I cried myself to sleep.

A Preview Picture

Saturday morning I was up with the sun and back to painting. By lunchtime, we were far enough along that I could start working on the trim. Mr. Rickie was nice enough to not only bring over his tools, but to stay and help me get most of the trim work done. By the time we were too tired to continue at 4:00 in the afternoon, the kitchen looked much better than when we started. So, we loaded up the car and went to meet the girls at my parents house.

When we arrived just before bedtime, the girls told us of all the special things that their grandparents spoiled them with. Kelley and I were both very jealous that we’d missed out on the fun, but I suppose that’s a part of growing up. It’s good to be able to let the girls go off and not worry about them.  We spent the rest of the weekend with my parents consuming as much home-cooking and Dairy Queen as we could and then hit the road Monday morning.

On the way home, we spent a couple of hours at Imagine It! The girls had a blast.  I even got to play with moon sand!  On the final leg of the trip, we stopped by a Chick-Fil-A Dwarf House in Jonesboro.  The only complaint we heard the entire trip home was “I donn wanna go home.  I go back teuw GG’s howse.”

Work started back yesterday and my time at home has been split between playing in the rain and hanging cabinet doors.  As of right now, I think that the kitchen is about 96% finished.  (The last 4% will probably drag on for another few weeks, though.)  So after a long, full weekend, I’m now back into the routine of work.  Oh yeah, and classes for the summer semester start tonight.  Having two courses spread out over 15 weeks was tough last semester, so I’ll take it easy and do two courses crammed into 10 weeks this summer.  Maybe Kelley will have finished the kitchen by the time I get done with classes.

11:30 - I really do need to run today.  A nap would be nice, too.  The boss probably wouldn’t appreciate the nap.
11:35 - Maybe skip the run.
11:40 - Ah, I’d better go get dressed and run now because I won’t get a chance later.
11:50 - Oh, it’s cloudy out.  I guess that will keep me cool as I run.
11:51 - A little fine mist never hurt anybody.
12:00 - Oh, my, that’s a big hill.
12:02 - Looks like the mist is getting a little thicker.
12:05 - Rain.  Well, I suppose I would have gotten sweatty anyhow.  At least it’s not too bad.
12:07 - Alright, this is some thick rain.  I’ll run under the cover of these trees over here.
12:08 - I’m too wet for the trees to help.  As a matter of fact, I think I’m too wet for the rain to stick to me.
12:15 - Finish a water-logged run and realize that my special-made running shirt does not wick away the moisture as it promised.
12:16 - If I’m already this wet, do I really need a shower?

There’s an old saying about how men piddle about all day and a woman’s work is never done.  I’m beginning to realize the truth in that.  I think that a woman’s work is never done not because of the amount of work that she does, but because she can’t make up her mind!  (I’m just joking….or am I?)

We’re in the middle of making some modifications to our kitchen.  New tile, new counters, new paint on the walls, refinishing the cabinets, and some new trim.  I absolutely love to do projects on my own,  but wisdom prevailed and we got professionals for the tile and the counter.  (I’ll post pictures when the whole thing is done.)  Unfortunately, we’re now stuck on finding the perfect colors for the cabinets, trim  and walls.  We started with a light, creamy yellow for the cabinets and trim and then painted several shades of khaki (brown?) on the wall…as well as a couple of greens.  Nothing took.  “Too washed out”, “Too green”, “we’re looking for more depth of color”.  After another late night session with a paint expert (thanks, Sheri!), I headed back out for more samples this morning.  Tonight, I’ll put a slight-cream white on the cabinets and trim and a gray on the walls.   Sheri would tell you that the cabinet color has some slight red in it.  If I held a card up to you, you’d say that it is white.  Sheri says that the gray is blueish.  You’d still call it gray.  That’s why Sheri is our consultant and not you.

At any rate, tonight we’ll try some new colors and see how they stick.  The only caveat to this adventure is that my parents are taking the girls this weekend so that Kelley and I can get all the painting done.  We might just have to spend the whole weekend painting rainbows on our wall in search of the perfect color.  I’m also afraid that the girl at the paint counter thinks that I’m trying to flirt with her because of the frequency of my visits.  Heck, if it would get us the perfect color, I might actually try it.

I had the privilege of attending Butterfly’s dance recital yesterday afternoon.  I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a 4-year old as excited.  The recital included two performances from about six other groups ranging from 4-years old up to about third grade.  There was even a hip-hop group of youngsters showing their agility.  (The hip-hop group had two boys in the class, which puzzled our 2-year old, Ladybug.  “Why da boyz up dare?”)

I’m a completely biased parent, but I think that Butterfly’s age group was the cutest thing all afternoon.  Though well-rehearsed, the girls frolicked about, occasionally doing similar motions before freezing in the spotlight again.  Most of the time, their little bodies made small, dance-like movements as they stared just off-stage to their teachers who were reminding them what to do.

The highlight of the entire event, though, was when Butterfly’s group ran around on the stage and then formed a circle.  As they held hands, they stepped in close to one another, and back out again.  Petite ballerina giggles filled the stage.  They repeated the move and giggled even more.  The laughter of these tiny performers carried over the sounds of the waltz and settled on the quite crowd.  If I could possibly capture a memory and share it with everyone, that one is on the top of the list.  Captured in their laughter was their innocence mixed with the fun they were having.

At the end of the recital, a group of older girls (Butterfly informed me that they were “teenagers”) performed a dance to preview the second recital, which was for the older groups and would immediately follow Butterfly’s.  My friend, Mr. Rickie, phrased it best when he said “I felt like a dirty old man sitting there while they did that dance.”  Hips were thrust, bosoms were jiggled, glances were cast and chairs were enticed.  I know that we should have stayed and supported the older girls, but I don’t think that I had enough $1 bills to make it through the show.  Reports from friends are that the second show met the expectations that the preview laid.  So, instead of watching what I would deem as border-line raunchy, we took Butterfly and Ladybug to Dairy Queen.  They were OK with that decision.

Kelley and I talked last night about “dance” and what it has become.  I thought that our daughter would eventually learn ballerina stuff for a performance in “The Nutcracker” instead of a lap-dancing technique of the same name.  As I drifted off to sleep, I slowly came to the realization of what Kelley and I are going to have to do:

Someday, in a couple of years, we’re going to bring Butterfly into the kitchen and sit her down.  As we tell her how much we lover her and support her, we’ll gently break the news to her that her friend, Dance, was shot during an armed robbery.  Everyone is hoping for the best, but it doesn’t look like Dance is going to pull through.  We’ll cry with her for a little while and then try to shift her attention with ice cream or something like that.  Then we’ll gently guide her to another extra-curricular activity that is completely harmless and will preserve her innocence.  Maybe television.

This July, I will leave behind my wild, carousing 20’s and enter the more responsible, calming 30’s.  On the eleventh, life changes from being spontaneous and care-free to structured and full of discussions about retirement  funds and political concepts.  In preparation for this, I made a resolution to get into shape.  For the most part, I’ve stayed on track.  Kelley has also been very supportive of the changes I’ve made in my daily schedule.  Of course, she’s probably about tired of all the changes.  We’re still “tweaking” the routine on a regular basis to find what works best.

I though you might be interested in a little more of the “why” instead of the “what”.  And let’s be honest, if you’re a regular reader of this blog, you probably don’t have much else to do, so you might as well read on.

So this was my thought process.  In my 30’s, I will watch my girls grow from small children into young ladies.  My career will most likely become cemented along a particular path.  The habits that I have formed going in will dictate what the person I am coming out.  By the time I finish my 30’s, I’m probably more likely to say “who cares” about my health than I am to say “let’s pump some iron.”  So, my theory was that this is my last chance to make a major change in my lifestyle.  This is the time to make my stand.

Well, that was my theory.  Yesterday, my boss came into my office and we discussed several topics, eventually covering working out.  He told me about how sore he is from his new routine that includes running and lifting.  His decision to start getting back into shape was explained to me as “You know, I turn 40 this year.  If I’m going to make a change, now’s my last chance to do it.”

Sorry, guys, it looks like I started my fitness routine about 10 years too early.  I think I’ll hit a couple of Mountain Dews followed by a buffet for lunch.  See you guys in a decade when it really matters.

I’ve complained (at length) about my graduate classes this semester.  Realistically, my class titled Advanced Materials was mentally challenging, but didn’t consume too much of my time.  Each week, I could count on a difficult-to-follow, but highly-informative lecture.  The exams were a good mix of concepts and applied theory.  The other class, Facilities Planning, was the exact opposite.  The concepts were easy to grasp but the time spent on the course was insane.  The class was cross-listed with an undergraduate class.  So, for some strange reason, the professor felt the need to assign tons of busy work.  The final exam was ridiculous, as well.  Time-intensive problems that are wrought with opportunities for small errors that can greatly affect the outcome of solutions.  YAY!

In the Facilities Planning course, we had a final project to put into practice the concepts that we had learned.  When I say “learned”, I mean things that we did over-and-over in homework.  I suppose teaching the concepts would have been too much to ask of the professor, so repetition seemed to be his method of instruction.  At any rate, we were supposed to design a facility.  Here are a few of the images that I created to illustrate the building that I designed/planned.  Click ‘em if you want to big ‘em.

I will be the first to admit that I’m not an architect.  There were a lot of things that I did not consider in my facility, and I knew that when I was putting together the final report and presentation.  I knew that the professor was going to find these details and dock my grade heavily for it.  And then, I sat through some of the other presentations.  Magically, I began to feel really about my work.  This is one of the graphics from the a group of undergrads:

Yeah, I think I spent too much time on my project.

Unfortunately, I do not have a structured post for today. Well, I suppose most of my posts are unstructured, but I at least like to have a point.  Okay, okay, I usually don’t have a point either, but still….  Today will just be a few random thoughts:

• The weekend away was very refreshing.
• I’m glad that my wife tolerates my twisted sense of humor.
• My daughters are a complete delight.  It’s amazing how much I enjoyed the time away and how much missed them while we were gone.
• There’s no good time in the day to workout.  It’s difficult to get my body going first-thing in the morning.  At night, I’m usually too tired and it’s tough to settle-down afterwards and get to sleep.  Midday means that I have to be gone from home longer and take a shower at work.
• I need to make time to workout.
• I need to make more time for my family.
• Almonds should not be mixed with chocolate.
• Nor should onions.
• I think that all actions and words from my children are precious.  I will tell you each item in detail and I expect you to be amazed and to revel in this preciousness.
• Your children are not as interesting as mine.
• Some people have no ability to follow directions.
• These people are usually the ones working on my projects.
• Working with this type of person would be much more tolerable if they allowed me to use a taser.
• I don’t care to see movies in the theater.  Too much money and nothing to show for it.
• Concerts should follow the same logic…but they don’t.  I’ll pay to see a good concert.
• I wonder what I’ll be when I grow up.
• I like to play the guitar and jam with friends.
• I’m not very talented with the guitar.
• My friends know this.
• I want to make a law that mandates naps.
• Why is it that politicians are upset about the auto-warranty robo-calls, but they do the same thing during election time?
• I already know the answer to the question above and that’s why I don’t like politicians.  Either side.
• My political views are right, yours are wrong.  Same goes for religious beliefs.
• I don’t really think that I’m right in all of my views.  I do think that we’re all wrong to some degree.
• I’m OK with that.
• I wonder why you are reading this list.

A little over a year ago, I built a sandbox.  The task seems simple enough, but it was still noteworthy.  Everything I read told me that treated wood was a bad idea.  The theory is that if you use untreated wood, it’s OK because it will take longer for the wood to rot than what the life of the sandbox would be with little ones, anyhow.  It sounded good to me.  And, I read it on the internet, so it must be true.  Right?

Apparently, the writers of these articles did not live in the south where termites abound.  (I’ll bet that you know where this story is going, don’t you?)  While I had some free time last weekend, Kelley’s dad and I picked up a load of sand to refresh the sand in the current sandbox.  I mentioned that I might rebuild the sandbox (because I need some extra projects to do) but Kelley told me that the old one was perfectly fine.  So, we emptied the sand…and noticed some extreme wood decay in some places.

Yes, I filled it up more later. There's no sense in over-building a sandbox if you can't over fill it.

I picked at the spots and magically, termites appeared.  Kelley made an executive decision that a new sandbox would be necessary.  (Projects are only fun if they’re my idea.  This one now transformed from “fun project” to “arduous task.”)

So, here’s attempt #2 at a sandbox.  This time, I used decking boards for the sides and a few treated pieces to help it hold the shape.  Of course, while I built the box, the sand just sat in the back of the truck.  So, naturally, the girls enjoyed the truck sandbox more than they’ve ever enjoyed sand before.  In fact, when I started filling up the new sandbox, Butterfly sighed, “Oh daddy, maybe we can just play in the truck from now on.”  It’s good to know that my efforts are appreciated.

This semester is done.  At least, I think it is.  I’ll let you know the official word when the grades hit the books.  So, for my troubles, my wife has planned an end-of-semester/mother’s-day/my-30th-birthday getaway.  I’m beyond excited…

http://www.accessatlanta.com/music/content/music/stories/2009/05/08/spinal_tap_unplugged.html?cxntlid=sldr_hm

Spinal Tap was my first experience into the mockumentary world.  Christopher Guest and crew have churned out several others (A Mighty Wind, Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, etc) and I love their comedy.  I’m excited about an awesome concert, a fabulous hotel, a good meal with friends, and some quality time with my wife.

I managed to squeak-out a second place in my age group at the Run4Missions 5k.  In addition, I got my personal best time in a 5K, so I’m pretty happy about that.  When I think back on the race, I figure that I probably could have shaved some more time, especially during the second mile.  But, I’ll settle for an official 23:51 for this year.  Not to mention, it gives me some cushion for improving next year.  (Race Results - if you want to make sure I’m not lying.)

I ran the first two miles tracking behind a gentleman that I work with.  I knew that he was much better at holding pace than what I would run on my own, so I used his wisdom to help set my pace.  Then, at the 2-mile mark, I met Kelley going in the opposite direction.  She was walking it with a friend and pushing pushing the girls in our jogging stroller.  So she turned the stroller around and gave it a push as I came by.  I grabbed hold and took them with me for the last mile.  I don’t think that it affected my time much.  Actually, it probably helped because as I started to push them, I heard them giggling and yelling “WeeeeeeEEEEEEeeee!”  Then they started yelling for me to go faster.

My ever-so-loving mother pointed out that next year I’ll have to race in a different age category.  In July, I’m hitting the status of  “old man”.  I looked at that age group, and I would have fallen all the way back to 6th.  I think maybe I should just retire while I’m on top.  Well, almost on top.

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