What I Wrote When I Should Have Been Writing My JPME Paper

OK, so my Far East fan base has been clamoring for an update to my blog. Apparently, they have run out of interesting things to read to their little one (and by interesting I mean mind-numbingly boring, enough to put even the most hyperactive munchkin into a coma [and that’s just Benny we’re talking about, much less Olivia {by golly I love parenthesis and brackets of all shapes and sizes}]).

Now, without further ado, some random observations and musings:

1. The Rockies have sole possession of the NL Wild Card. How awesome is that? We can’t really say Rocktober in the middle of July so we’ll have to come up with some other catchy slogan. I’m thinking for July we should go with “Rocky Mountain Post-All Star Break High” and, for next month, Rockust. (Did you like the John Denver reference? Before he decided to land his plane in the ocean, he used to sing songs on top of the dugouts of various MLB teams.)

2. Why is it, that when one’s grass is dying and the other plants in the garden are shriveled up (all thanks to the lack of rain) the zucchini plant marches on, bearing forth more fruit than the Octomom (but without the drama—as far as I know no news organizations have set up shop across the street hoping to get an interview in with our zucchini plant. Then again, we do live in Oak Harbor, WA and it is kind of slow news-wise around here, so the possibility that this might one day occur, while remote, is not impossible). Ok, putting the narrative aside aside, I’d like to remind readers that I live in Washington. Why is my grass turning brown? Do I really have to break out the sprinkler in Washington? Oh cursed sun!

3. Next Monday (my birthday) marks Melissa-has-hit-full-term-on-her-pregnancy Day, otherwise known as, “Dear-Lord-I’m-about-to-be-a-father-again Day. Hopefully I won’t mess this one up like I did the last. In case you are reading this, my beloved wife, I promise not to get this one hooked on dairy products, nor will I deliberately try to make him a southpaw to increase his chances of making it to the majors one day (really, God, all I’m asking for is that my son be a MLB pitcher for just a few years. He doesn’t have to be great. He doesn’t even have to be particularly good. Heck, he could be the left-handed version of Juan Acevedo for all I care! (For my English-only readers, Juan Acevedo is Spanish for John Avocado. Really, in today’s global economy, you should learn another language. Personally, I prefer ancient Greek and Hebrew. Sure, it may not help me out now, but I’ll have a leg up on the rest of you suckers when it comes to chilling with JC and the Disciples up in Heaven. What, the Disciples spoke Aramaic? Oh well, that’s close enough to Hebrew. Besides, I can still hang out with Moses.) Anyway, Mr. Avocado made something like 3.2 million dollars in his career to be a journeyman pitcher. I’m thinking that I could retire off of that kind of dough (thanks in advance, son, for thinking of your old man when you hit the big leagues).

4. Since reforming health care is dominating the news right now, I might as well throw my three cents in (two cents, adjusted for inflation. If we lived in Zimbabwe, it would be something like $11.5 million dollars. Seriously. That’s what 231 million percent annual inflation will do for ‘ya). Whatever our politicians decide, I hope that the first reform bill has a rider attached to it specifically dealing with my left knee. You see, the federal government has attempted to fix said knee before. (In fact, earlier this month we had a moment of silence to mark the one year anniversary of my arthroscopic surgery.) After my surgery, I ended up limping around like Nancy Kerrigan. Unlike her, I didn’t recover a month later to win an Olympic silver medal. Oh no, a month later found me still limping around, except in Kuwait instead of California. After getting my knee drained and getting it shot full of steroids, I began to stabilize, however I’ve never felt like I got back to 100%. I still have shooting pain at times and often get a dull ache that spreads down my leg. It’s been getting worse of late, even after I’ve backed off of running and spent most of my time on the treadmill. I finally decided to stop being stubborn and have made an appointment to see the orthopedic doctor in early August. I note all this to say that the rider attached to the healthcare bill should provide enough money for me to get bionic knees.

5. Time for one final musing before I head to bed. I’ve been working on writing a paper for the first part of the second course of JPME 1. In doing so, I’ve been having flashbacks to sitting in the MCPP course that all the khaki in NMCB FOUR had to sit through. (If you don’t know what the above acronyms are, be grateful, this note isn’t for you.) Who can forget, “never say never, never say always,” or, “my bid to change the NCF” or whatever other funny quotes I may have missed while sleeping through the class. Actually, I paid excellent attention in the class and am glad that I did. I can write knowledgably about COGs and COAs and the like. Heck, I can’t wait till the assignment where I have to write my own fake op order. OSMEAC here I come! I promise to be as anal-retentive as any CEC officer going up for the SCW pin. I will not however, stand on my head, do Pilates, or hang butcher paper all over my room. I’m not that crazy!