More Questions than Answers

I haven't blogged much recently. I haven't been feeling well, but mostly I haven't had much to say. But I find myself unable to sleep, unable to purge the thoughts that bombard my waking mind every moment.

I told a guy recently that the advice I'd offer myself if I were ten years younger would be that when you are interested in someone, ask her out. That your biggest regrets lie not in rejected advances, but in chances never taken. This is a hard policy, especially when one is wont to sit and think, trying to outline every possible scenario but it is lived out in my life now.

In the tale of two women, one a friend, one essentially a stranger I pursued the stranger and not the friend. Now the stranger is dating, and the friend is married. And I regret the later so much more than the former. When I was direct, I received the great blow of rejection. But a direct "no" does wonders for eliminating down-the-road "what-ifs."

With the friend, I am not so lucky. Shortly before she was set up with the man she later married, she e-mailed me recalling a tine we had gone to a waterfall (a short walk that turned into a minor hike when I made a wrong turn), and expressing her desire to do more of that in the upcoming summer.

Shortly thereafter, she became much slower to respond to an e-mail. She let me know how happy she was that I got my new job with the state, and that she was really busy. A litle later she let me know she had been seeing someone "for a couple months." She e-mailed me in early January to ask if I could help her move closer to her fiance, so she could save some money for their upcoming wedding, and I got an invitation to her wedding that I couldn't bring myself to attend.

The best laid plans of mice and men can go to pieces in an instant, and this was no exception. What if... I wish I had said something when I had the chance. Maybe she'd have said "no" too - after all, no one's said yes yet. But I'll never know. All I have left are the images of opportunities I had to ask, taunting me when I close my eyes.

Am I to learn from this? Was it simply the way life goes? Will I receive comfort in my affliction so I may comfort others who face it, too? Why when I begged for guidance did I choose the most barren path, imagining it to be lush? Where do I go from here?

I want to believe this. I'm not certain I can.

Apache

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Beware... I'm trying to embed silly videos. Beware! BEWARE!

Football!

I was at the season opening game for Nevada football. We came in 0-2, playing a 2-0 team that we haven't beaten in 8 tries. Many of their fans predicted an easy victory. It was not to be.

It was a dominating performance by my team, with only a couple stumbles in the middle that gave the other team the chance to put points on the board. But with the exception of those fretful minutes, the game was not in doubt. We whalloped them. It was a beautiful thing to see.

I like football, because I like the feeling of involvement with the people around me that it provides. I love to hear the fans cheering, I love the response from the team on the field, I love to feel the excitement crackling in the air.

I'd have spent more time socializing with some other fans from WolfPackChat.com, but I got smoke or something in my eye (maybe I scratched it slightly, because it is still bothering me today) and retired to my car to try and make myself cry to irrigate it. I failed, not in small part because I was about to watch football and I was too excited to get worked up about other things.

Advances in Medical Technology

Pretty cool, if you ask me.

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"Sept. 14, 2006 — Claudia Mitchell is the first "bionic woman."

When Mitchell thinks, "close your hand," her hand closes, even though she lost her hand and entire arm two years ago.

Mitchell, a 26-year-old former Marine, lost her left arm in a motorcycle accident in 2004 and just received a bionic prosthesis from the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago.

She now has partial use of the arm that she lost — and she controls it with her thoughts."

Death

A man at my old church passed away, after complications following a "routine" procedure left him in a coma. Husband, and father to a kid now just out of high school, he was a genuinely warm person. Helping wherever he was needed, he would always say hello and stop by the sound booth to visit with the tech guys - something most musicians and singers did rarely, if ever. He would help clean the sanctuary between services, shovel snow in the winter, make coffee in the mornings, usher, sing, and take you out to lunch.

At a loss for words as rarely happens, and believing that he served in the Air Force, I offer this as a token of tribute:

Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At 'em boys, Give 'er the gun! (Give 'er the gun now!)
Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,
Off with one helluva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame. Hey!
Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!

The Air Force Song

Grumpy the Cat

One of those random tidbits I've been meaning to share. My cousin Ken has blogged about this cat. You should read the article. I think about Grumpy sometimes now and just smile.

Conspiracy Theory Prediction

I'm predicting now a theory I have not yet heard, but expect to. The theory is that oil (and gas) prices are falling because Big Oil is afraid that the Republicans might lose the elections, and so they are trying to influence that outcome by lowering prices.

If anyone hears this repeated, in the media or in other blogs, I'd love to hear about it, so I can claim to b wonderfully smart.

Friday's Random News

Python swallows sheep, can't move. Photo included.

Impotent Whining

It's football season, and one of the most ancient and hallowed traditions of the season is complaining about... well, whatever suits you. For me, it's rule changes that were put into place to shorten college football games, ostensibly to reduce the risk of injury but really to be more accomodating to TV schedules (3 hours is better than 3.5 hours). The new rules mean that the team trailing in the 4th quarter has a much more difficult time getting back in the game. The game is shortened by 10-20% - less football for more commercials. The BCS already proves that the NCAA is more interested in advertising $$ than competitive sporting events. This is just another example. I consider signing an online petition to generally be a pointless strategy, but it gives me a feeling of satisfaction to register my frustration somewhere.

This is the site for the petition. I find it interesting that they get e-mail addresses for confirmation and delete duplicates. That's closer to a real petition than I've seen before online. Not that it will do any good.

Life is Hard

I'm getting sent to Washington, D.C. to stay in a hotel 3 blocks from the US Capitol Building and attend a training class during the day for a week. How shall I ever find something to do in the evenings?

Life is so very, very hard.

The Crocodile Hunter

The Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin, died this past week. Not eaten by an alligator, bitten by a spider, or any other of the dangerous animals he was so familiar with, but a "lucky strike" by a stingray, which pierced his heart.

I was sad to learn this. He seemed so full of energy and life, with a love for the natural world that inspired others.

Evidently, among other honors, he will be afforded a state funeral if the family wants, as he was a face of Australia that the world came to know and love. He leaves behind a wife and two children - 8 and 3, as well as a world that lost a little bit of its light.

To learn more...

Darfur

Things are about to get worse there. Possibly, much, much worse.

"But," you might ask, "didn't they sign a peace deal recently?" Yes, but the UN does not appear willing to hold up its end of the agreement.

This seems to be a pattern in international politics. A cause du jour springs up, like Darfur, or the Israel-Hezbollah conflict, or Iranian uranium enrichment, and all the world rushes to make paper agreements that they have no intention of carrying out. Much noise and attention are directed toward the creation, arguing, and signing of such agreements, and then the issue falls from public view. Without the force of action behind the agreements, and with a long line of preferring to renegotiate breaches in agreements instead of taking punitive action - such agreements are not only not worth the paper they are written on, but are a bad thing - substituting hollow words for real action, blinding a people eager to be blinded to the harsh reality before them.

The UN promising to provide troops to protect the people of Darfur from government-sanctioned murder and rape does not prevent that tragedy from befalling a single person. Words, like faith, are dead without action. That we love the former but are unwilling to pursue the later only allows those cunning enough to see the difference to exploit our cowardice.