Here's The Proof!

Sadly, my camera had dead batteries last night. Nevertheless, here's the proof of my participation in Thursday morning's "Turkey Trot!"

The Big Race!

(pictures to follow)

So, yesterday- Thanksgiving Morning- was the culmination of almost two months of training for me.

I ran in a 5K race and here are the important numbers:

• I completed the race in 28:35, more than a minute and a half better than my best training time. I was especially happy with my time because the course starts with a very long, very steep hill and I was worried that it would take so much out of me that the rest of the race would be a wasted effort. It was not.
• I finished in 160th place in a field of 480 runners. Putting me exactly in the top third of the field, which had been my goal leading up to the race.
• I finished 20th of the 39 runners in my age group- basically, in the middle of the pack. This was kind of a bonus, I was not expecting to do so well in my peer group.

For the moment I'm going to keep running every other day (if possible) at least for the next month when I start playing indoor soccer again. At that point I may do both as much as my schedule permits. Whatever the case, so far, so good!

Late to the party?

I've been thinking about this topic for a while, but never gotten to posting it. Recently, however, Rolling Stone published their version of it, so I thought I might as well get mine out in the open as well.

The topic: Greatest "pop/rock" singers of the post-war period.

The caveat: The "topic" is intentionally vague, so just go with it.

In no particular order:

Roy Orbison: "Operatic" is the only word that could really do his voice justice. Hearing it live was spellbinding. How anyone could make pain so beautiful is beyond me...

Sam Cooke: Beyond smooth. I thought Jackie Wilson had a great voice until I heard Sam Cooke. There's a reason a boxed set of his music is called "The Man Who Invented Soul."

Frank Sinatra: Phrasing. The songs were no better than any recorded by other "crooners," and his voice probably wasn't any better than anyone else's. Once he sung a song, he owned it.

Johnny Cash: If I'm wrong, and there is a God, I suspect that when you pass through the Pearly Gates a man will turn around, offer you his hand, and say, "Hello, I'm Johnny Cash."

Bjork: I'd guess that from a technical standpoint, her voice probably isn't good at all. That being said, there's something elemental and prehistoric that I just find completely captivating.

Sinead O'Connor: Range. Both vocal and emotional. I'm not sure there's any kind of music she couldn't conquer if she chose to.

Annie Lennox: Not really a fan of her work, but she can flat out "belt" and I could listen to her speaking voice (love that Aberdonian accent!) for hours.

The Easiest Money I've Ever Made

Today somebody bet me $5 today that Sean Connery was Welsh.

I must have given him ten chances to change his mind, but he wouldn't.

I won.

I don't want to get all judgmental, BUT...

I found out the other day that somebody* (an acquaintance as opposed to a "friend") I used to work with became a father for the second time.

Nothing wrong with that.

He now has a child with his ex-wife and one with his girlfriend (I'm assuming this part as I've no evidence that he got remarried).

Again, nothing wrong with that.

What I do find troubling is that in addition to his regular job, he still has (as far as I know) two other full-time occupations: paying off fines to get his (repeatedly) suspended license back and buying/consuming mass quantities of marijuana. As you might imagine, these two "sidelines" have often crossed paths.

Well, good luck to him.

*He is the technical college dropout who once tried to lecture me on European history

Progress

So, I'm not going to start talking about "numbers," but I've lost enough wait since the end of August that I am now wearing articles of clothing that have been hanging untouched in my closet for over two years.

Hooray!

...exhale.

No explanation needed.

Yet ANOTHER great thing about small towns

My voting experience today was as follows:

Time: 2:00pm

Place: Town Hall (literally, across the street from my apartment)

Number of sign-waving crazies who accosted me on my way into the building: Zero

Number of people I had to wait behind in line: Zero

Number of times I had to show my ID: Zero

Number of little old ladies who were nice to me as they checked me in and out: Two

Number of bake sales in the Town Hall lobby: One

Total time from start to finish: 5 minutes


I'm not even sure why I put on pants.



(still haven't exhaled)

Inhale...

...I'll be holding my breath until about this time tomorrow.