Eyegal and I love each other a lot. If you read that Washington Post article from yesterday, you’ll know what I mean when I say that we’re cruising along, kicking up a fair amount of oxytocin with some frequent dopamine now and then to spice things up. In short, I ain’t complainin’ and neither is she (I hope).
But when it comes to the whole Valentine Day’s thing, we just refuse to get too worked up after nearly 22 years of raising kids and romance-in-the-trenches. In days of yore, we used to knock ourselves out, buying the cards, roses, lacy teddies and tacky boxers, etc.… Read the rest
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
A patient of mine is suffering from depression and anxiety. He’s trying out a new medication and is seeing a psychologist to learn strategies for coping with the stresses and messes of daily living. I saw him recently and asked him how he was doing.
“Much better, Doc, thanks for asking,” he replied. “Whenever my mind starts to get too full, I just hit the ‘Delete’ button.”
Note to self: Give that a whirl. If that doesn’t work, hit “Esc.”
Time magazine recently hosted a debate on God and science. The participants were scientist and committed atheist and philosophical materialist Dr. Richard Dawkins, author of the recently released book The God Delusion, and Dr. Francis Collins, committed Christian and Director of the National Human Genome Research Institute.
It’s worth reading all of this if you have the time since it’s very uncommon to see two such articulate spokespersons on opposite sides of a contentious debate actually talk to each other rather than past each other. I think you’ll agree that this article represents a rare sighting of civility in the American public square.… Read the rest
I wish I had thought of this. But I’m glad that my friend Mike the PharmD (that stands for “Pharmacy Dude”) did.
The ubiquitous iPod is a necessary accessory for today’s tech-savvy, music-loving teenagers. Our boys each have one. In all three cases they worked and saved and payed for part of theirs with a little help from Eyegal and me. They have enjoyed them greatly, but there have been a few “issues” which have needed to be addressed from time to time.
Mike the PharmD, possessing a more sound and sober mind than I, anticipated many of these “issues” prior to purchase.… Read the rest
It’s a given that if you’re taking a walk or a run on a Saturday morning in Alabama (or just about anyday anywhere in the South for that matter) and you meet up with one of your neighbors, that you’ll exchange a greeting of some sort. A head nod, a lift of the hand, a “hey,” or the classic “good mornin'” are all socially acceptable salutations. To acknowledge and greet a fellow passerby is as much a Southern staple as barbeque, sweet tea, high school football and Wednesday night church.
Or so I thought.
This past Saturday I was nearing the half way mark of my morning run when I spotted a speed-walking, fifty-something woman clad in colorful, cheerful spandex coming around a corner directly into my path.… Read the rest
I thought that “getting Swooshed” would be the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Visions of free running shoes, endorsement contracts, commercials and billboards were dancing like Oregon Waffles in my middle-age, ever-balding head.
Instead, I went from Swoosh to spam in no time flat.
It all started when those pesky and creepy little search bot worm thingies started crawling all over my site a few days ago. Both Google and Yahoo (Inktomisearch.com) stop by at least daily, Yahoo sometimes more often. The result was a coordinated spam attack between 10:15 and 10:50 A.M. yesterday which launched eight cash-seeking missles that landed in the comment section of my various Nike posts.… Read the rest
In mob circles, it’s known as becoming a “Made man.” You’ve shown loyalty to the family through the years, doing all the dirty deeds you’ve been asked to do. Finally, after paying your dues, somebody notices. Suddenly, your suits get silkier, your shoes shinier, you receive VIP treatment at the dry cleaners and get the best seats at all the good restaurants with no reservations. Usually “being made” is the pinnacle of a mobster’s career–unless you’re Joe Pesci’s character Tommy DeVito in the movie Goodfellas.
Whoa, what just happened you ask? Through the magic of a small piece of HTML-code strategically placed in my old site, you’ve been caught up and whisked away to Ocular Fusion 2.0 (www.ocularfusion.net). Talk about your raptures. Or would that be an alien abduction?
Anyway, now that you’re here stick around and, as we say in the South, “sit a spell.” I’ve still got some tweaking to do, but the bulk of the renovation is complete. Unlike my desk at work, the new site is clean, uncluttered and easy to navigate. No more depressing black either. I’ve decided (with fashion imput from my color consultant Scott) that brighter and cheerier colors are in order, the better to reflect my, uh, sanguine personality.… Read the rest
Although it wasn’t supposed to happen until 2008, I have evidence that Google and Amazon have already joined forces to create Googlezon, a platform combining Google’s superb seach engine technology with Amazon’s “social recommendation engine” and “huge commercial infrastructure.” Here’s the story:
On Tuesday, I had one of my “40-something” brain lock moments at the office. I had a patient in the chair with early macular degeneration for whom I planned to prescribe Ocuvite eye vitamins. The only problem was I couldn’t for the life of me remember the dosage.
So I turned to my computer and while explaining the reason for the vitamins to the patient, quickly typed “Ocuvite” into Google and found the website, which of course provided me with the proper dosage–all in a matter of seconds.… Read the rest
I’ll admit that I’m not much of a video-gamer. My idea of a good video game involves running from ghosts or defending the earth from marauding space invaders. Besides, the reflexes aren’t what they used to be, so I leave the video games to the three young bucks in my house. But I can still hold my own and beat them in ping-pong (and probably in PONG as well). Ok, I’ll admit that Number Three did beat me the other night, but that was only because I wasn’t wearing my sweatbands.