June 14: Weary Heads, Girls and Sex, Getting Older

But it gets harder.  The courage of children and beasts is a function of innocence  We let our bodies go the way of our fears.  A teen-aged boy, king of the world, will spend weeks in front of a mirror perfecting some difficult trick with a lighter, a muscle, a tennis ball, a coin. Why do we lose interest in physical mastery?  If I feel like turning cartwheels--and I do--why don't I learns to turn cartwheels, instead of regretting that I never learned as a child?  We could all be aerialists like squirrels, divers like seals; we could be purely patient, perfectly fleet, walking on our hands even, if our living stature required it.  We can't even sit straight, or support our weary heads.

Dillard is talking about getting old.  When we're young, we worry about physical mastery.  That's why, in high school, the athletes are the kings and queens of the school, for better or worse.  We live in a world that prizes extraordinary feats of the body.  That's why we get so excited about events like the World Cup, Super Bowl, and the Olympics.  However, when we get old, our priorities shift.  By ten o'clock, most adults with jobs and family are ready for bed.

When I was a young guy, I was pretty normal.  All I thought about was girls and sex.  I wasn't much of an athlete.  I ran on the cross country team for one year in high school.  I wasn't great.  Didn't break any records.  Didn't place in any race.  I don't even know what I did with the JV letter I earned.  But I was determined to be the best I could be.  It just so happens that the best I could be was mediocre.

As I've gotten older, I have continued to run.  I've gotten slower and thicker.  Given the choice between sex or a nap, I would have a difficult time making a decision.  As Dillard says, my living stature does not require me to be able to outrun things.  I do not live in a place populated by packs of wolves, killer bears, or dinosaurs.  Therefore, speed is not a requirement in my life.

This afternoon, I ran one mile and then played in a swimming pool with my son for a couple of hours.  By the time I got dressed after swimming, I was b-e-a-t.  Beat.  I had a hard time keeping my eyes open.  Right now, at 9:50 p.m., at the end of America's Got Talent, I am beyond beat.  And it's only Tuesday.  I'm in for a long week.

So, I am not Usain Bolt or Michael Phelps.  No world records will by broken by this wannabe saint.  I am old, getting older.  I still run.  Swim.  Every once in a great while, I may go for a bike ride.  I don't dance, unless I have had several drinks.  In short, I am a normal middle-aged man.

Perhaps I should try to master something physical.  Something that tests my agility or speed or strength.  Something amazing.

Saint Marty will have to sleep on it.  It's after ten o'clock, after all. 

February 12: Fudge and Bed

Cherry and peanut butter fudge

I am pretty tired tonight.  I'm sitting on my couch, watching the Olympics.  Skiing.  Skating.  Snowboarding.  I'm drifting in and out of consciousness.  My sister bought me some Mackinac Island Fudge today, so I'm also snacking on really good chocolate, too.

Pretty soon, I'm going to be stumbling off to bed.  After the Russian ice skaters.  I'm going to try to see the women's snowboard competition, too.  Don't know if I'll be able to stay awake.  I may just have to Google the results before I brush my teeth.

Not much going on tomorrow for me.  A slow day at the medical office.  Pulp Fiction in my film class.  A couple of hours in my office in the evening, waiting for my daughter to get done with her dance classes.  I'll have plenty of time to read and write.

Saint Marty's got a little Valentine's Day project to complete.

August 3: Things You Shouldn't Do While Blogging

There are many things you shouldn't do while blogging.  Top of my list at the moment is watching the Olympics.  I have had my laptop in front of me for the past hour, and I have typed nothing, zero, zilch.  All I had up to a few seconds ago was just the blinking cursor.

Another thing you shouldn't do while blogging is eating Cheetos.  It makes for orange fingers, orange keys, and orange computers.  Cheetos and any kind of electronic device involving software just don't mix.

Going to the bathroom.  Let's just leave it at that.

Taking a shower.  Generally, whatever you are doing in the shower doesn't belong in a blog post.  Plus, like Cheetos, water and computers do not mix.

Drinking alcohol.  Some people may argue with me on this one.  However, drunk blogging is like drunk dialing.  You will post something embarrassing, possibly even a compromising picture of yourself.  Whether deleted later or not, a drunk blog post is a mistake.

Watching TV in general.  My current distraction is the Olympics.  However, even if the TV is tuned to something you don't even like (Bill O'Reilly say), you will watch the TV and not type anything.  Keep the TV turned off.

Cooking.  This is not a hard-and-fast rule for every blogger.  Just for myself.  If I blogged and cooked at the same time, something is going to burn, boil over, or explode.  I would probably end up microwaving my iPad.

Having sex.  Of course, this depends upon the kind of blog you are writing.  Nuff said.

(OK, now I'm watching diving in the Olympics.  I'm not even that interested in diving.  I am totally pathetic.)

Last thing I want to warn fellow bloggers not to do while blogging:  having quality time with your significant other.  Your significant other will insist on reading your blog post when you are done, and when he or she discovers you have been writing about the Olympics or cleaning up dog crap in the backyard, you will end up in the doghouse yourself.

That is the extent of Saint Marty's wisdom this evening.  Now, he's going to go eat some Cheetos, cook some Ramen noodles, go to the bathroom, have sex with his wife, and watch Michael Phelps swim.  Not in that order, necessarily.




Even this idiot can distract you!