Shallow Thinker

Thanks to the Atlanta Journal Constitution for matching advertisements with stories:

Sore ankles.  My soleus is inflamed.  My knees just can’t take the pounding.  It’s tough to do it alone.  The excuses finally gained enough volume that I pulled myself off the road for the past month and a half.  I had been working up to a 10K (and had actually achieved a decent time), but I was tapped out.  Running became more difficult and painful than it was enjoyable and rewarding.  I became a yuppie and took to the elliptical with its fancy little TV and it’s acceptance of whatever pace I wanted to go.

Then last Wednesday happened.  Kelley was mentioning all the things on our calendar and I was filing the items away in my “to be forgotten” folder.  And then I heard it.  “…and we’re doing the 5K that Saturday…”  My mind took a moment and then threw me back to reality.  “Wait.  A 5K?  For what?”  My wife claims that I gave my approval, but I’m still skeptical.  This Saturday, we’re supposed to run a 5K.  Given the number of excuses that I’ve piled up over the past couple of months, I could easily justify showing up for my T-shirt and then disappearing into the crowd.

But this race is a little different.  It’s for a local group called Jay’s Hope.  Jay’s story alone is enough to make me thankful for the life that I have.  The fact that there are ten’s of thousands of similar stories around our globe completely humbles me.

Jay’s Hope 5k, Catie’s Cure Classic, and other similar events help to raise funds for childhood cancer research.  By participating in these events, you not only get a t-shirt, you help to boost the numbers and the recognition for these events.  For example, in the running world, races are judged by how many people cross the finish line.  By dragging my sorry excuse for a body around the race course, I provide this group with a little boost in their ratings.  And their race looks a little better to the potential sponsors and runners next year.  And the message of childhood cancer is broadcast further.

I don’t expect to win this race.  Heck, I don’t even think that I’ll place in my age group (I’ve moved up to be with the old guys that run a lot).  Judging by the past month, I won’t even come close to my recent personal best that I hit back in May.  But I will finish.  And I will add one more to the total that crosses the finish line. I don’t think that my frivolous complaints about sore muscles will deter me from getting out there and getting passed by small children and elderly couples.

If you’re around, please consider joining me in being a warm body to cross the line.  (http://www.jayshope.org/pdf/Raceregform09.pdf)  If you’re not nearby, please consider contributing towards research for finding a cure for childhood cancer.

It’s been a decent run, I think.  I started blogging about 18 months ago and I have enjoyed it thoroughly.  Unfortunately, work, grad school, and the proliferation of Facebook have all lead to the demise of my useless insights.  So, when the lease on this place runs out at the beginning of next year, I think I’ll lock the doors and leave it behind.

Perhaps as I make a final tour around the place over the next month or two, I’ll drop some deep thoughts.  Most likely, though, you’ll be off touring some other website when the lights are shut off.  It’s OK.  Folks don’t come around these parts much anymore.  Well, let’s be honest, they didn’t come around much any in the first place.  Instead of posting musings for my loyal readers, I’ll now resort to just telling her before bed each night.  (Hey Kelley!).

Adios.

A year ago, I talked a bit of trash to the youth of our church.  Fortunately, the other old folks helped me out as we crushed the youth in our annual flag football game.  This Sunday marks the return of the Turkey Bowl.  And, if I were a smart man, I would adapt the following lessons for this game:

• I am too old to play.  I will hurt myself and be sore for 2-3 days after.
• Trash-talking is not wise because I can’t back it up.  I have to rely a lot on who shows up for each side and things that are beyond my control.
• Playing just isn’t smart because I’ll be all sweaty and stinky for the meal that follows.  And, when I have to play the guitar, I’ll drip sweat all over it and won’t be able to hold the pick.

Really, no good could possibly come from participating in this game.  So, after speaking with my agent and weighing my options, I must offer the following statement to the press:

We’re going to crush the youth like little….things that you can crush easily.  And we’ll win big.  Huge.  Monstrous winning will occur.  We’ll score more touchdowns that Troy Aikman did against….some team that he scored a lot of touchdowns against.  I’s going to be so brutal that they’ll need to call the paramedics because of our…brutality.  So, um….YEAH!

There you have it.  And yes, you can quote me on that.  Hey, if the Minnesota Vikings can win with old man Favre leading their team down the field, we just might have a chance with Old Man Harrel at the helm.

I was looking at the local newspaper online this morning and I saw this advertisement:

Let’s do some quick investigative work:

Sandy, white beaches and clear, blue water - um, are you sure you’re talking about the same Georgia that I’m talking about.  I went through and looked at some of the photos that the company had posted on their website.  Sure enough, every picture that showed vast amounts of the ocean had clear, blue water.  Amazing, isn’t it?  The imported the Gulf of Mexico for this photo shoot!

Flickr user “Jaxlass” (I’m assuming that it’s a lady from Jacksonville, FL and not the posterior of a Jaxl)  snagged a photo of the Tybee Island surf (the same location as the place  advertised above) and this is the color it turned up:

So is it ethical to make brown water into blue water for ads?