Tag: personal (Page 7 of 10)

My Wisest Choice

June 19, 2012 / DB

File under: Sometimes otherwise smart people do dumb things.

I’ve never been in a tanning bed in my (almost) 41 years on earth. Until Monday. Thanks to a meeting of two circumstances¹ I decided to take the plunge and get a little unnatural color Monday. I knew going in there were risks. S. will occassionally use the tanning beds at our gym and while she gets some color after a day or two, she often has to go through what appears to be an uncomfortable red-pink stage to get to the brown. My skin is lighter than hers and parts of it don’t get exposed to the sun very often. I tried to be careful, but I wasn’t careful enough.

I expected my chest and back to get a little roasted. I had sunscreened them both pretty well on our two trips to the pool this summer. I kind of forgot about the backs of my thighs, though. I figure I haven’t worn shorts or swim trunks with less than a 7″ inseam² in over 20 years. As such, the backs of my thighs haven’t been touched by the sun since at least high school. They got touched a little bit in the tanning bed, to say the least.

As I type this, I’m sitting on a barstool in our kitchen with my legs propped so there is no weight on the parts of my legs that got fried. I’ve been treating them generously with aloe gel. I assume the pain will go away in a few days, right?

It’s been a long, long time since I had a real sunburn, so this is a good reminder to keep lathering the sunscreen on when I am going to be outside for extended periods. And I might want to keep the long, workout shorts on next time I use a tannng bad. Or just skip the tanning bed all together.
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We will be spending a lot of time in the sun and water this weekend. We are also ending our gym membership at the end of the month and S. has a bunch of tanning sessions left on our account. ↩
Hey-oh! ↩

Brush With Greatness

May 21, 2012 / DB

I have a few friends who are masters of the random celebrity encounter. They have no problem either approaching or breaking the ice with a famous person and have many stories about running into Quincy Jones, Milton Berle, Dave Matthews, or Lawrence Taylor, to name a few.

On the other hand, in those rare situations when I see a celebrity, I tend to sneak glances, elbowing and whispering to the people next to me, and keep my distance. So while I’ve seen plenty of celebrities, I don’t have any good stories about running into one and having a conversation.

That’s still mostly true, but I came closer than I’ve ever come to breaking that string on Saturday.

One of S’s cousins got married downtown Saturday. After the ceremony we headed to the Hilton to meet up with some other family members to pass the time before the reception. On the way there I joked with S. that we might see LeBron James, since the Heat were in town for their series with the Pacers.

We hung in the lobby for a few minutes then I left to find a restroom. A few minutes later my sister-in-law’s boyfriend popped into the restroom and said, “The Heat are out here!” I briskly walked back to the lobby. There were a couple tall guys in Heat workout gear heading to the elevators, but none of them were guys I recognized. I looked back towards the entrance and saw a very tall man with enormouse ears. Any basketball fan my age would immediately recognize him as Juwan Howard, who I forgot was even still playing.

At least I saw one player I knew, I thought. Shame I didn’t see LeBron or D-Wade or Mario Chalmers.

We made our way down to the bar and once seated, I noticed Erik Spoelstra, the Heat coach, standing at a booth a few feet away. I looked around on the off-chance some players were hanging around too, but didn’t see any. I pointed Spoelstra out to everyone in our group and explained who he was, how long he had been the coach, etc.

I had a voice mail to check so I walked back out to the lobby. I stepped through the bar door and two feet away from me there’s LeBron and some other players! I already had my phone to my ear, so I tried to be casual and not let my eyes bug out or act like I was calling people I knew to say, “I’m standing by LeBron!”

About 12 feet away, at the other main entrance door, I saw another player quietly walk in alone. He was wearing a hoodie pulled over his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face and had to do something I’d never done before.

“MARIO!” He turned and looked my way.
“ROCK CHALK!” and I held out a fist.

He pointed his fist at me, said “Rock Chalk,” back and continued down the hall. It was Mario Chalmers, the man responsible for the greatest moment in the history of basketball and probably all sports ever!

I had suddenly become a giddy 12-year-old, excited to have a brief encounter with someone I’ve watched on TV for years.¹

A few minutes later Dwyane Wade arrived and took a quick picture with some people who had been waiting for him. I kicked myself for not being ready to grab Mario for a picture.

Eventually Spoelsra left the bar and the man he had been talking to finally slid out of the booth. It was legendary coach Pat Riley. As he walked by I gave him a slight nod, which I don’t know if he even saw. My father-in-law, though, who has no shyness or qualms about approaching people, slid over and asked him how long he had been in Miami. “Seventeen years,” was his terse response.

And then the excitement was over. I thought I saw a couple people at the bar who might have been covering the series for national media outlets, but no big names; just random reporters who I’ve seen at some point over the years but couldn’t remember their names.

A pretty fun way to waste the two hours between the wedding and the reception!

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The people who received my many texts Saturday afternoon can vouch for this. ↩

2:21

May 8, 2011 / DB

In case you missed my recent ramblings about my training schedule, I ran 13.1 miles Saturday. It went pretty darn well, all things considered.

First, the important thing. Not only did I finish but I did so in 2:21. So I was slow, but that was expected. I was pleased to break 2:30, although it was another sobering reminder of my age. When I ran a half-marathon 11 years ago with a sore hamstring in pouring rain in hilly Kansas City, I got in in 2:05. The good thing about my time Saturday is I feel like I could have gone a little faster. It’s always better to feel like you could have gone faster than go too fast and limp to the finish.

It was a perfect day for running. Mid-50s when the race began, with a little bit of sun but lots of clouds on the western horizon. The clouds moved in quickly and we were running in rather dreary conditions. At roughly the halfway point it began to drizzle, which turned into a light rain that continued until I finished. If you have to run in rain, this was the kind of rain to run in. No downpours, no gusts of winds. Just a steady rain that kept you cool.

Much like my experience in the Chicago Marathon in 2001, a lot of the Mini Marathon was about dealing with the congestion on the course. With 35,000+ people running, there was never a time when you could just run flat out in a straight line. The first 2-3 miles were especially tough, with lots of people who started before me walking in groups. I had to pass one group of seven people who were walking, stretched across the street. Come on, people!

Perhaps the coolest thing about the Mini is that you get to run a lap at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. You start downtown, run almost six miles to Speedway, cross into the infield, then work your way out to the main track. I have to say, it’s pretty cool. And I was struck, again, by the vastness of the speedway and the narrowness of the racing surface. It’s hard to believe three Indy cars can race side-by-side at 220 MPH on a space that narrow. The other cool thing about the track is, once you exit, you’ve knocked out about 2.5 miles.
I was struggling a little when I got to the track. I had some tightness in the back of one knee and pain in the other knee. But but the time I got through the tunnel and onto the track, everything loosened up and I felt great. I didn’t wear a watch to do splits, but I would imagine I had a few 12 minute miles in the first five and was closer to 10 minute miles from 6-11.

My big worry, of course, was how my training would carry me through race day. Would my muscles and joints rebel at being pushed well past the eight miles I completed on my longest training run? Would I run out of energy? None of that happened. In fact, I felt great in the second half of the race. Lots of energy, legs felt good, and really cruised along. I wanted to run faster but didn’t push it because of the rain, which made the roads slippery, and some slight barks from my hamstrings that I shouldn’t go much faster if I wanted them to cooperate for the rest of the race.

I kicked it in for the last quarter mile, got my medal and bag of food and had my picture taken, then suddenly the sun burst out. It turned into a gorgeous day. S. and two of her sisters came in about half an hour behind me. No injuries in our group. Just some sore muscles and maybe a blister or two. We spent most of the rest of the day on the couch and went to bed early. Sunday I felt better than I felt after my previous two long running events. I remember not being able to walk down stairs after running a full marathon because my quads were so sore. This time, it just felt like I had run hard the day before.

So another entry for the back of my lifetime baseball card. That’s two half marathons, one marathon, two triathlons. What’s next? I thought about running a very nice fall half marathon here in Indy, and in fact this year there are two different ones to choose from. But when I looked at how a training program would line up, I’d pretty much be starting up again right after we get back from our family vacation next month. Suddenly doing a second long race this year didn’t seem nearly as tempting.

Rather than train for a specific event, I think I’m going to begin a 5K training program in early June. I won’t aim for a particular race, but will go through a 12-week program and hope to see some improvements in my speed over shorter distances. I’m not sure what a realistic goal is since I haven’t run a 5K in a few years. Really it’s more about committing to a program so I’m always thinking about what my next run is, instead of just telling myself “OK, I need to run three times this week.” If I’ve learned anything from the past six months, it’s that I need to stick to some kind of cardio program and can’t just rely on going to the gym to burn calories.

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Starting Line

February 15, 2011 / DB

This is it. I officially begin my training for May’s Indianapolis Mini Marathon today. Technically I began yesterday, with a strength and stretch day.¹ And I’ve been on the treadmill consistently for three months now, although never pushing the distance since running on treadmills sucks.

But today is my first official run. A modest three-miler, but the first three miles of many that will make up my training for the 13.1 miles I plan to run on May 7.

I’m very excited to be starting. I’ve taken a couple other half-assed cracks at training programs since I ran a marathon in 2001, but always began them half-heartedly and quickly gave up. This time, I’m excited about the process and looking forward to, once again, becoming a true runner.

I also begin my training with the sober understanding that I’m getting older. I knew I had put on a few pounds over the past couple years, but when I visited my doctor for a physical over the holidays, I was a little shocked by what the scales said. I had felt my jeans tighten up and saw more flab than I was used to when I took a shower. But still, to hear that I weighed more than I had ever weighed, by a good 10 lbs., hit home pretty hard. At my doctor they weigh you on the way back to the exam room, and only ask you to remove your shoes. When he read off the weight the nurse had put into my chart, I almost demanded that we go back and do it again with all my clothes off. ²

We had already signed up for the Mini before my visit, and I viewed it as a standard get back into shape project. It remains that, but now has the added element of helping me drop some pounds.

I know to some of you that sounds easy. “You’re going to be running 3-4 times a week, working out on a couple of those other days. Surely the pounds will melt off, right?”

I wish it was that easy. Ten years ago, during my six-month training for the Chicago Marathon, I managed to hold the exact same weight from beginning to end. I ate a lot to begin with, and whatever extra calories I was burning were apparently off-set by the additional food I was shoveling in after long runs, the endless energy bars and gels that kept me going, and lots of Gatorade. Now, a decade later, when my metabolism has obviously slowed down, it will take extra discipline to get closer to the weight I’d like to be at.

But that’s all secondary. The important thing is I want to be in great running shape on May 7 and enjoy the run. Oh, and I get to buy some new gear along with way, which is always a fun side-benefit to training.³

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If you’ve never run before and are thinking about it, I can’t recommend Hal Higdon’s site enough. He offers many levels of training for all distances that will help you train smartly, stay healthy, and be ready for race day. ↩
Well, most of them. My physician is a Med-Peds doc, and sees more kids than adults, based on the décor of his exam rooms. No need to scare the kids. ↩
New shoes are a must. Some new running shirts and shorts. I already got a new iPod Nano because my old iPod Shuffle couldn’t track time and held either podcasts or music but not both. Essentials. ↩

NaNoWriMo Wrap Up

November 30, 2010 / DB

As promised, and I’m sure you are all nervous with anticipation, some general thoughts and reflections and musings on my NaNoWriMo experience.

First off, the 50,000 words came quite easily. I stuck close to the suggested daily word count, which worked for my rather open-ended story idea and daily schedule, but each time I sat down and focused on my story, I could pretty easily get 1000-1500 words knocked out in 30-45 minutes. One or two more brief sessions got me to the magic 1600-2000 word level for the day. It helped, of course, that I only had a basic idea for a story, wasn’t adhering to some rigid outline, and that my idea was loosely biographical. On the rare day when the words were tough to come by, I could just recall to another event that happened to me and turn that into a fictional scene. Basically they were fictionalized blog posts on those days.

I tried not to sweat the details. I had characters who I called different names at different parts in the story. I made illogical jumps in time and space. I began threads that I discarded and did not return to. My focus each time I sat down at the keyboard was to keep the cursor moving to the right with a wake of text behind it.¹

I worried going in that this loose idea I had been playing around with for nearly a year would peter out at some point, and I’d find myself sitting at 23,000 words and having no idea how to progress. I didn’t come close to having that problem. In fact, had my focus been pushing forward with a legitimate first draft rather than just hitting my daily target, I can see this easily stretching to at least another 25,000 words. In a way, that’s heartening. The big stumbling block to writing a book for me has always been the idea of getting all those words out. In a 30-day exercise, I proved that I can do that.

Of course, what I wrote isn’t truly a novel. It’s an arbitrary number of words in an arbitrary number of days. There’s a big jump from that to getting something that I could confidently send it off to whoever it is that helps you get published. It does feel like I cleared a mental hurdle, though.

I have a couple friends who are novelists. One has been published once and has been working on a second novel for some time. Another has produced a couple decent manuscripts, at least decent enough to get an agent, but hasn’t had any luck getting picked up by a publisher. Both of them told me the key was to get the idea out. Don’t look back while you’re writing, just move forward. Take notes about a change you want to make to chapter one, but if you’re in chapter 13, stay there. When I first got that advice, it made a lot of sense but seemed unwieldy in practice. After going through this, though, it seems like the best path towards successfully putting together a first draft.

And that’s what I have: a clumsy first draft. Could I get to the end and then go back and clean it up? I suppose. If what I produced over the last month has a kernel within it could become a successful story, I think it would take a total restart, more planning ahead of time, and a better idea of where I wanted to go. It’s one thing to take a bunch of disparate memories from grade and middle school and write a story about a kid’s summer. It’s another to make that story coherent.

But I’m not sweating those details now. I just cranked out 50,000 words in a month and while I won’t compare the output to something a real author would do, I am pretty pleased with myself for getting through the process. If nothing else, I’ve learned that a modest investment in time and a little commitment can result in a large piece of text.

And no, you can’t read it. Sorry. I promise all my loyal blog readers will get a discounted copy of my first novel.

One famous person, at least in geek circles, likes to call this making the clackity noise. But my modern keyboard is nearly silent, so as much as I like that description, it doesn’t quite fit my process. ↩

New Man Plan

November 8, 2010 / DB

A few years ago, a friend of mine instituted a New Man Plan for the New Year. It was his clever name for the annual adjustment in eating and drinking habits, workout regimen, etc. most of us start January with. I’ve always liked that name, and use it anytime I’m making even minor changes in my life.

It might be early, but I seem to have gone full-New Man Plan for November. Examples:

1) NaNoWriMo. Writing a novel, even under strict rules like NaNoWriMo’s, is a big deal. So I’ll count this as a big life change. Week one went smoothly. I did my best to follow the advice for first timers: just write. Don’t worry about gaps in timeline, inconsistency in characters, and so on. Get the words out. As of this (Monday) morning, I’m sitting on 12,144 words. As I expected, the story sucks. I think a couple characters have multiple names because I’m focused on moving forward rather than making sure everything matches up. But I’m on schedule through week one. Now if I can just stretch it out for three more weeks.

2) As I mentioned, S. and I signed up for next year’s Indianapolis Mini Marathon. It’s too early to launch into a big training program, especially when I haven’t run consistently in ages. So that’s been my focus: running 2-3 times a week, very modest distances, and hoping to stick with that through fall and winter so I can start a half-marathon specific program in the spring.

3) I’m letting my hair grow out. After 5+ years of keeping it buzzed down, I decided it was time for a change. It’s been four weeks since I cut it, and it is still growing out.¹ I forgot how carpet-like my hair is. Each hair sticks straight out rather than lies down, so even after a shower and ripping a brush through it, it has a mind of its own. Not that I’m complaining: having a full head of hair at 39 is a good thing.

It’s also reached the point where I can see the lines where the clippers went through during my last cut. I have a ridge running through the center of my head where everything is a tad longer than the hair around it. One side of my head swirls the wrong direction because of the last clipper pass. A couple more weeks and I can go get it cut by a professional and smooth out these rough edges. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it. I’m certainly not going to let it grow out as long as it was ten years ago.² But neither is it going to be buzzed down completely.

4) New glasses. A very minor change, but after two years with my current frames, some new ones are on order. You may recall I switched to glasses two years ago in hopes of getting corrective surgery and ditching contacts and glasses all together. Sadly my corneas are too weak to handle surgery, so I’m stuck in glasses. The crazy thing is we’ve discovered contacts were horrible for my eyes. My prescription was constantly changing because of the stress contacts put on my corneas. Two years in glasses, though, and there’s been the tiniest change in prescription, and instead of getting worse, it has gotten slightly better.

Mostly small changes, but when you throw four of them out at once, I feel like a New Man!

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I accidentally buzzed my hair down once in college. In four weeks it was ready for a family picture. My hair still grows fast, but not quite as fast as it did 20 years ago. ↩
M. calls my hair in our wedding pictures my silly hair. ↩

Run, Forest, Run

June 24, 2010 / DB

I forgot to mention that I ran my first 5K in over three years last Saturday. I had been “training”, and by training I mean running approximately once every 5-10 days, and was finally finding some fun in running again. It helped that L., unlike both of her sisters, loves to go for runs in the jogging stroller. In fact, if I time it right, she’ll often fall asleep along the way.

Anyway, I’m proud to to report that I finished fourth in my age group, and 26th overall!

Of course I must also admit that only 100 or so people ran the race, and I was over eight minutes slower than the guy who won our age group.

Oh well. Baby steps.

I bought some new shoes today, so if the temperature ever drops below 85 again, I might try to run twice every 5-10 days.

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Trapped

May 27, 2010 / DB

They’ve got me.

Every online retailer I’ve ever purchased a good or service from has me in their clutches. There is no escape.

Each morning when I first check my e-mail, chances are there are at least three, and often as many as six, messages from various retailers offering up fantastic discounts on things I might like. The Gap. Banana Republic. Old Navy. Eddie Bauer. Borders. Amazon. The KU Bookstore.

And as much as I insist I have plenty of clothes or books or whatever, I always click on the message to see just how good the deals are. More often than not, I’ll find a sale that seems too good to miss. That’s how I end up with 800 t-shirts for summer; how can I pass when they are only $10 with free shipping!?!?!

I’m torn. Am I part of the problem with this country, a nation of compulsive consumers who buy way more than we need or can use? Or am I doing my part, spreading money around, and keeping the economy humming?

I’m not sure what the answer is, but at least I’ll look good while I’m trying to figure that out.

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Famous Sports Achievements

May 11, 2010 / DB

One of my (many) sisters-in-law completed her first half-marathon last weekend, running the Indianapolis Mini Marathon in atrocious conditions. Her accomplishment got me reminiscing about my own running milestones over the years. Completing the Chicago Marathon in 2001, a half-marathon in 2000, and my first triathlon in 1999. But my favorite was much further back than that.

In the spring of my first-grade year, my parents separated for the first time. This happened a couple more times and by the time they divorced two years later, I was an old pro at handling parental break ups. But I’ll admit I was a bit messed up in the spring of 1978, mostly because my mom and I abruptly moved and I had to start in a new school in April.

It was a struggle to fit in, especially when I didn’t really understand what was going on with my parents. All the kids knew each other and had forged friendships over the course of the year. I was the new kid at an age when no one is really sure what to do with the new kid.

Fortunately it was spring, though, and that meant gym class was outside and involved running around, playing kickball, etc. The other kids in my class spoke reverently of a kid in my class named Kyle and his super-human speed. They talked about how he ran away from everyone last fall during football games, how he beat everyone in races, and so on. I figured they know the deal, so I too learned to be in awe of Kyle.¹

When early May rolled around, our gym teacher lined us up and explained that the school’s field day was coming up, and we would spend the next few weeks practicing for the big day and picking class representatives for the races. ² I wasn’t really sure what he was talking about, but it sounded fun. I liked competitions, and the lucky winners in our class races would get to compete against the winners from the other first grade classes on the high school football field in front of the entire elementary school.

So we lined up for our first 50 yard dash practice. I remember the day clearly. It was morning, so the grass was still heavy with dew, the sun shining brightly in our eyes as it crested the trees across the field. Kyle was located just a couple lanes to my left. I figured if I kept him in my sights, I’d have a solid shot of making the first grade finals. The teacher put us on our marks, raised his arm, and shouted “Go!” I took off, pumping my arms, raising my knees high, all the stuff that OJ Simpson did when he ran the ball. I focused on the finish line but also monitored my left peripheral vision, waiting for Kyle to appear. I could feel my blood pumping in my ear drums, my throat burned, and I gasped for breaths. I crossed the finish line and pulled to a stop, looking anxiously to the teacher to see where I finished. Turns out, I won.

“This must be a mistake,” I thought.

I found Kyle and asked if he slipped in the wet grass at the start.

“No,” he replied, he ran fine. I just beat him.

I could sense a murmur amongst our classmates. The new kid had just beat Kyle in a race. Was it a fluke? Had the world as they knew it just been shattered into a million pieces?

Over the next couple weeks we continued our practice for Field Day. Kyle won a few races. Most days, though, I beat him. It was obvious we would be the two runners representing Mrs. Alexander’s class.

When the big day rolled around, we filed into the football stadium and sat in the concrete stands, nervously watching the other races as we waited our turn to take the field. When they called for the first grade 50 yard dashers, Kyle and I made our way to the field, our classmates wishing us luck along the way.

We lined up on the field, and as I looked down to the finish line, 50 yards sure seemed a lot longer than it had been in gym class. We took our marks, a teacher raised a real starter pistol, and shot a round to send us on our way.

This was a fairly small school, I think there were four first grade classes, but I had no scouting report on the other classes. I didn’t know if Kyle had been the class of the entire school before my arrival, or if perhaps another class featured a budding Olympian. Fortunately, when you’re not-yet seven, you don’t think of these things. I just knew Kyle was fast, I had beat him a few times, and one of us would win this race. Still, there were a lot of strangers on the field with me.

I ran hard. I pumped my fists and raised my knees high. I felt my blood in my ear drums, felt the burn in my throat, and gasped for breaths. I crossed the finish line and looked around. Had I won? Or did I finish last? I had no idea until the teacher holding the blue ribbon ran over and grabbed me so they could line people up for awards. I finished first, Kyle right behind me. Mrs. Alexander had a future track team in her class!

I’m pretty sure that was the first time I ever won anything official. I remember how sweet the rest of that day was, walking around at the post-race picnic with my blue ribbon pinned to my shirt.³ My speed held until high school, when there were far better sprinters around. I could usually win the mile warm-up runs in gym class, but I dumbly thought that cross country and distance racing in track were for freaks, and never tried out for either one.

Now accomplishment is more about getting off the couch and doing something than being the first one across the finish line. The prize is the t-shirt or finisher’s medal that everyone receives. While those are nice, that blue ribbon in May of 1978 will never be topped.

I will say this, Kyle was a nice kid. He didn’t let all this adulation go to his young head. He and I became fast friends over the next few years before my family moved to Kansas City. ↩
Remember, this was the 70s. There was no “everybody wins” mentality yet. It was a cold, brutal, efficient contest to determine a winner. ↩
I’m pretty sure I ran around a little too much after lunch and deposited most of my meal in the grass somewhere. ↩

Brushes With Greatness

March 25, 2010 / DB

When I was a kid it would have been among my greatest dreams to have one of the players from these little cardboard rectangles walk into my world, big as life. What I didn’t realize is that I’m the kind of fan who needs distance.

Duane Kuiper « Cardboard Gods

This quote serves two purposes. First, it allows me to link to the always excellent Cardboard Gods site, specifically to a Joe Posnanski-centered post. Second, it allows me to share another story from my trip last weekend.

I admit I never know how to act on the rare occasions I run into someone who is famous. I’m both sensitive to their desire not to be bugged by every random person they cross paths with and nervous about becoming tongue-tied and sounding like a complete idiot. So I tend to quietly brush past celebrities.

On my flight to Kansas City last Friday I was in the first boarding group and grabbed the first window seat I could find. The aisle seat was already occupied. As the later boarders filed on, a flight attendant announced that the flight was completely full so people should grab the first available seat.

A few moments later a woman who had already passed our row returned and asked the man on aisle seat if she could slip by him. As she sat next to me, I gave her the courtesy nod and returned to my magazine. A half second later I realized she looked familiar. I waited a beat and then snuck another look. Yep, I was 90% sure it was who I thought it was.

Naturally, rather than saying anything to her, I sat in my seat mute for the next hour and 15 minutes. I read my magazine, listened to music, and otherwise put on the appearance of passing time all while racking my brain for ways to break the ice.

Should I tell her that I remembered when I was nine years old and visiting my cousin at KU when we ate lunch at the same dorm cafeteria table as her?

Or should I casually ask if she was still in the line of work I last knew her to be in?

Or just ask if she watched the game the night before?

I did none of that because I’m a gigantic loser.

As we exited the plane, my confidence level increased to about 99% that I had identified her correctly.

I have a few friends who never have any qualms approaching celebrities they encounter. They always end up with great stories. I wish I had that kind of ease with others. Instead I just have a collection of near misses.

Oh, who was the woman I sat by? Only one of the greatest college basketball players of all time.
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