Things are starting to feel normal again. My shoulder really only bugs me when I'm brushing my teeth (the jiggle-jiggle-jiggle of the brushing motion propagates up my arm and feels really creepy when the bone floats free.) The road rash is down to the odd pink spot on my arm, and the fluid on the hip is slowly being absorbed. No sign of getting a tan yet, but there is hope.
Been a hard year, but I haven't given up yet. Nothing has been more than a speed bump when all is said and done, and I still have the 'wanna' feeling when I see my bike.
I rode 50+ miles total on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, and felt great afterward. No shoulder aches, just the usual jello-legs and falling sound asleep with my arms over my head at 8:30 so that when I woke up a few hours later, I couldn't feel my hands.
Patty asked me to come up with a six-word memorial, and as much as I hate to write my own eulogy, I think this is as close to the mantra I try and follow as I can express succinctly:
Turn rocks over; never stop exploring.
Corollary: life is sweet. Play hard and find things to help maintain a child-like sense of amazement at all of the things that surround us.
I don't have a relentless thirst for knowledge in the sense that I'm driven to extremes when something piques my interest. However I do find that I'm happier when I understand the why.
I love things that enable us as humans (even if I never fully exploit the capabilities of said object myself.) Life is best experienced as a gestalt, all-encompassing event, not a series of compartmentalized and formalized happenings and periods. There is no 'kids as toddlers' phase in my head, it's all 'life.' No breaks, no sadness when an epoch ends - there is no epoch. It's all one big happy ball of being alive and having the best kids and wife and family and friends to share it with.
Understanding why Tammy loves me is the one exception... I'm content to let that remain a beautiful and perpetual mystery. I have to have a little wonder in my life.
- Ryan
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Beware of the answers.
I'm late in getting this posted, mostly because there's a fear of self-aggrandizement in anything I write as an attempt to praise fathers and fatherhood.
I learned very early on that in school, if you asked a question, you'd get an answer at the lowest common denominator level. If you asked why the sky was blue, you'd be told 'it's because that's what your eyes see' which is a non-answer at best and misleading otherwise.
Now, if I went home and asked Dad, I'd get a short adventure into the land of wavelengths, an explanation of refraction and scattering of light, and maybe a touch of particle theory as the sprinkles on the cupcake of knowledge.
The latter was almost worse than the former, as I knew that I didn't understand it, but, unlike the educators that didn't seem to trust me with the straight dope, Dad did. He never dumbed it down, which made me feel that even if I didn't get it now, he knew I'd get it eventually.
Unfortunately, when Burke asks me why the sky is blue, I have to tell him that it's the reflection of the oceans as I never remember the right answer.
Somewhere along the line I seem to have inherited Dad's tolerance for pain. It's entirely possible that I was the reason he had such a high tolerance... I don't think I was all grace and beauty when handling hammers, tennis racquets, fireworks, anything thrown, any heavy machinery, cars, my own sweet self... I don't know that any baker's dozen guardian angels could have kept up with intercepting all of my randomness, but Dad did. Or at least knew how to stop the bleeding and/or fix the gaping holes in the ceiling.
It's traditional when accepting any major award to declare that you were lifted on the shoulders of giants and able to see beyond what had been done before (unless you're Murray Gell-Mann, in which case you announce that you were surrounded by dwarfs.) I haven't gotten any awards recently, other than the supreme ones... the love of my wife, the happiness of my children and the knowledge that the world is a lot more secure and we aren't lost or destined to be miserable as humans. Really, I guess those were things that were awarded to me, not that I earned, but I'm grateful nonetheless. It's good to have been raised (in both senses of the word) to see the things that matter, to see a life lived in accordance with the words spoken, and to feel hope and love as concrete items.
Nice work Dad.
P.S. We're not going to take the kids back until they know Avogadro's Number and what it means. Hey kids, guess what you get to do instead of playing on your vacation! Physics! HOORAY!
- Ryan
I learned very early on that in school, if you asked a question, you'd get an answer at the lowest common denominator level. If you asked why the sky was blue, you'd be told 'it's because that's what your eyes see' which is a non-answer at best and misleading otherwise.
Now, if I went home and asked Dad, I'd get a short adventure into the land of wavelengths, an explanation of refraction and scattering of light, and maybe a touch of particle theory as the sprinkles on the cupcake of knowledge.
The latter was almost worse than the former, as I knew that I didn't understand it, but, unlike the educators that didn't seem to trust me with the straight dope, Dad did. He never dumbed it down, which made me feel that even if I didn't get it now, he knew I'd get it eventually.
Unfortunately, when Burke asks me why the sky is blue, I have to tell him that it's the reflection of the oceans as I never remember the right answer.
Somewhere along the line I seem to have inherited Dad's tolerance for pain. It's entirely possible that I was the reason he had such a high tolerance... I don't think I was all grace and beauty when handling hammers, tennis racquets, fireworks, anything thrown, any heavy machinery, cars, my own sweet self... I don't know that any baker's dozen guardian angels could have kept up with intercepting all of my randomness, but Dad did. Or at least knew how to stop the bleeding and/or fix the gaping holes in the ceiling.
It's traditional when accepting any major award to declare that you were lifted on the shoulders of giants and able to see beyond what had been done before (unless you're Murray Gell-Mann, in which case you announce that you were surrounded by dwarfs.) I haven't gotten any awards recently, other than the supreme ones... the love of my wife, the happiness of my children and the knowledge that the world is a lot more secure and we aren't lost or destined to be miserable as humans. Really, I guess those were things that were awarded to me, not that I earned, but I'm grateful nonetheless. It's good to have been raised (in both senses of the word) to see the things that matter, to see a life lived in accordance with the words spoken, and to feel hope and love as concrete items.
Nice work Dad.
P.S. We're not going to take the kids back until they know Avogadro's Number and what it means. Hey kids, guess what you get to do instead of playing on your vacation! Physics! HOORAY!
- Ryan
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The Sweet Smell After Rain
The weather has been beautiful, with the rare blue skies that you only find at altitude... sun, light winds in the evenings and the sounds of kids playing outside til dark. Glad to be alive, gimpy arm or not.
The kids are all out of school, end-of-year camping trips over and done for Burke and Lauren. Nothing but the slow brain-death of cartoons beckons, and cereal can now be eaten for three meals a day, or until the milk runs out.
I got a ride in last night, so I'm officially through feeling sorry for myself. I may try and elicit some pity backrubs now and again.
I'll post a few recent pictures when I boot back into Windows (haha, I'm posting this while running Linux, I'm geekier than you) and continue to putter along.
Life is sweet.
The kids are all out of school, end-of-year camping trips over and done for Burke and Lauren. Nothing but the slow brain-death of cartoons beckons, and cereal can now be eaten for three meals a day, or until the milk runs out.
I got a ride in last night, so I'm officially through feeling sorry for myself. I may try and elicit some pity backrubs now and again.
I'll post a few recent pictures when I boot back into Windows (haha, I'm posting this while running Linux, I'm geekier than you) and continue to putter along.
Life is sweet.
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