Ever since I started writing my young-adult novel(s), I have increased my daily intake of young-adult reading material as well. It makes sense, to read the type of books you want to write. Right?
But something interesting has happened in that time. I discovered I like books for the young-adult (henceforth referred to as the YA) more than I like books for adults. At least, generally speaking.
Of course, there are exceptions. Recent adult books I read and loved include: The Kite Runner; 1984; and The Thirteenth Tale.
And as much as I can rattle off some great adult books, there is just something about YA books that attract me in a way adult books don't. In some cases, it is the imagination of it all. Exploring the world through a child's eyes, or exploring worlds that seem long-forgotten once we grow into adulthood. I think, too, there is a level of innocence about YA books. Not that YA books don't tackle some sensitive and serious issues. After all, The Chocolate War is, to this day, controversial and often tops the list of books to ban. Which is a shame, since it is a great book. (I don't think it should be banned...although, I also don't think my 9-year-old is ready for it just yet.)
Yet, I think the innocence I'm talking about is more like innocence lost. YA books show the blinders coming off the innocent character, discovering that the world is far more harsh than their own lives might have them believe. Perhaps it is a story about an ophan girl who has never known love, trying to find her place among her knew family. Or perhaps it is the story of a boy who discovers he's a wizard...and that ultimately, that magic can never bring back his parents. Or maybe it is about a girl who simply wishes to be "pretty" like the rest of the world, but learns that perhaps being pretty isn't all its cracked up to be...that people can love you for who you are, and not what you look like.
Mostly, I think reading YA allows me to return to my childhood. To be young again. I hear most adults complain about their adolescence as a time they never wish to return to. But I liked my YA years. It was a time when everything was new, when there was self-discovery, and there was a passion about things that I've lost as I've aged.
It is ironic, really. I started reading adult books when I became a teen. It wasn't until I became an adult that I started reading books meant for teens.
So, next time you're in the library or bookstore, head to the young-adult books and take a look. There's a lot of great material there! It's your chance to be young again.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Mister Know-It-All
You want to know something? I'm a really annoying person.
Thing is, I don't mean to be. I'm also a very nice, compassionate, intelligent person. Yet, I can't seem to help being a Know-It-All.
I don't mean to say that I actually know it all. I don't. Not even close. I just come across that way. Really, it is more that I'm a stickler for accuracy...and so if I read or hear something that isn't quite right, I have this innate need to set things straight.
Of course, on occasion I've been wrong about what I thought wasn't quite right. But, generally, I tend to keep a lot of unimportant facts and details in my brain that really don't matter to anyone else. Worse than that, however, is that I end up telling people these unimportant facts.
I swear, if my wife ever considered divorcing me, it would be over the times I decided to "correct" something she said. Never mind the correction was completely beside the point of the conversation. Yet, in those times, I can almost see the flames of annoyance in her eyes. Then I have to come up with some clever or witty cover to douse her irritation with me. (As it turns out, I'm neither clever nor witty most of the time.)
I wonder why it is. I mean, it's not like I've never written or said anything that wasn't 100% accurate myself. And, honestly, I find it terribly annoying to be corrected when that happens. I, of course, have to come up with something terribly clever or witty to hide the fact I didn't know what I was talking. (And as it turns out, I'm neither clever nor witty most of those times, either.)
Yet, knowing that...knowing that being a Mister Know-It-All is just annoying, I can't seem to stop myself. It is a disease, really. And so, I must apologize right here and now to each and every person who had to roll their eyes at me. And while I'm at it, I'll apologize to each and every person who will inevitably have to roll their eyes at me in the future. Because I'm a flawed individual who just happens to Know It All. I can't help myself. (Annoying, isn't it?)
Thing is, I don't mean to be. I'm also a very nice, compassionate, intelligent person. Yet, I can't seem to help being a Know-It-All.
I don't mean to say that I actually know it all. I don't. Not even close. I just come across that way. Really, it is more that I'm a stickler for accuracy...and so if I read or hear something that isn't quite right, I have this innate need to set things straight.
Of course, on occasion I've been wrong about what I thought wasn't quite right. But, generally, I tend to keep a lot of unimportant facts and details in my brain that really don't matter to anyone else. Worse than that, however, is that I end up telling people these unimportant facts.
I swear, if my wife ever considered divorcing me, it would be over the times I decided to "correct" something she said. Never mind the correction was completely beside the point of the conversation. Yet, in those times, I can almost see the flames of annoyance in her eyes. Then I have to come up with some clever or witty cover to douse her irritation with me. (As it turns out, I'm neither clever nor witty most of the time.)
I wonder why it is. I mean, it's not like I've never written or said anything that wasn't 100% accurate myself. And, honestly, I find it terribly annoying to be corrected when that happens. I, of course, have to come up with something terribly clever or witty to hide the fact I didn't know what I was talking. (And as it turns out, I'm neither clever nor witty most of those times, either.)
Yet, knowing that...knowing that being a Mister Know-It-All is just annoying, I can't seem to stop myself. It is a disease, really. And so, I must apologize right here and now to each and every person who had to roll their eyes at me. And while I'm at it, I'll apologize to each and every person who will inevitably have to roll their eyes at me in the future. Because I'm a flawed individual who just happens to Know It All. I can't help myself. (Annoying, isn't it?)
Thursday, December 13, 2007
It's All Good (Maybe)
Just when I thought it was safe to cook healthily, it appears that scientists have, once again, muddied the waters. For reference, take a look at this news article. And if you don't feel like reading it, the summary of it is this: It appears that there is no scientific evidence to support the idea that saturated fats are actually bad for you. And there never has been.
This is disconcerting, since we have all (or at least, I have) been going to great lengths to avoid saturated fats in our diets. Saturated fats are bad, so the theory has been. This is different than trans-fats, by the way, which should just be avoided at all costs.
It appears that consuming a diet higher in saturated fats does not increase your likelihood of heart disease. And while it may increase your total LDL levels, it also raises your HDL levels in a way that keeps things balanced. It has been determined that the radio of HDL to LDL matters more than total LDL levels. The higher HDL levels offsets any negative effects of LDL.
So, where does that leave us? Well, as it turns out (and I'm sure this fact has Dr. Atkins rolling in his grave), carbs have a more significant role in heart disease than it was believed. That's because a diet high in carbs can lead to higher levels of triglycerides in the blood. Triglycerides are actually more significant in determining heart disease. One major source of triglycerides is, of course, consuming high fructose corn syrup. Avoid the stuff. But also just sugars in general. Because it triggers the release of insulin, which leads to the conversion of excess sugar in the bloodstream to...you guessed it...triglycerides.
This would seem to be consistent with the Type 2 diabetic's inclination toward heart disease. A diet high in carbs, which eventually leads to the diabetes.
And just what, then, is the proper way to eat?
Moderation, of course, is the key. A diet high in fiber and fruits and vegetables. And avoiding trans-fats. But those simple sugar and corn syrup-laden foods? It should be no surprise they are bad for you. And foods heavy in saturated fats? Well, they may not be as bad for you as once expected...as long as you are, again, eating in moderation.
Take a look at peanut butter (and a variety of tree nuts). These are known to be healthy choices. Yet, they have high saturated fat content. The key is that they are also high in polyunsaturated and monounsaturated fats. So, find foods rich in both of those.
Maybe, just maybe, that diet I was prescribed when first diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes is the best diet after all. Not necessarily low-carb, but low-sugar. And I suppose this means I'll have to cut back on those Hostess Chocolate Chocolate-Chip muffin loaves I love so much.
This is disconcerting, since we have all (or at least, I have) been going to great lengths to avoid saturated fats in our diets. Saturated fats are bad, so the theory has been. This is different than trans-fats, by the way, which should just be avoided at all costs.
It appears that consuming a diet higher in saturated fats does not increase your likelihood of heart disease. And while it may increase your total LDL levels, it also raises your HDL levels in a way that keeps things balanced. It has been determined that the radio of HDL to LDL matters more than total LDL levels. The higher HDL levels offsets any negative effects of LDL.
So, where does that leave us? Well, as it turns out (and I'm sure this fact has Dr. Atkins rolling in his grave), carbs have a more significant role in heart disease than it was believed. That's because a diet high in carbs can lead to higher levels of triglycerides in the blood. Triglycerides are actually more significant in determining heart disease. One major source of triglycerides is, of course, consuming high fructose corn syrup. Avoid the stuff. But also just sugars in general. Because it triggers the release of insulin, which leads to the conversion of excess sugar in the bloodstream to...you guessed it...triglycerides.
This would seem to be consistent with the Type 2 diabetic's inclination toward heart disease. A diet high in carbs, which eventually leads to the diabetes.
And just what, then, is the proper way to eat?
Moderation, of course, is the key. A diet high in fiber and fruits and vegetables. And avoiding trans-fats. But those simple sugar and corn syrup-laden foods? It should be no surprise they are bad for you. And foods heavy in saturated fats? Well, they may not be as bad for you as once expected...as long as you are, again, eating in moderation.
Take a look at peanut butter (and a variety of tree nuts). These are known to be healthy choices. Yet, they have high saturated fat content. The key is that they are also high in polyunsaturated and monounsaturated fats. So, find foods rich in both of those.
Maybe, just maybe, that diet I was prescribed when first diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes is the best diet after all. Not necessarily low-carb, but low-sugar. And I suppose this means I'll have to cut back on those Hostess Chocolate Chocolate-Chip muffin loaves I love so much.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Believing Science
Back in college, I took a very pro-evolution class called "The Nature of Science", which fell under the realm of Philosophy, according to my University. In this class, we talked about various aspects of science from a philosophical point of view. But about half of the semester was devoted to the evolution versus creation debate. And, the instructor was undeniably biased toward the evolutionary point of view. Fine.
In this class, we learned of an argument that, once upon a time, evolutionists used to use to prove that evolution takes places. Then, it was shown how this, as it turned out, did nothing to prove evolution. (Nor did it make any difference whatsoever to the creation side of things.) This case was about some butterflies (or moths...actually, I forget), and how prior to the industrial revolution, there were all these butterflies of a certain color. But, once the industries started their task of polluting the air, the butterflies changed their color. It was thought that, as a result of the darkening of the trees due to air pollution, that those butterflies that were white were obvious targets for birds, and quickly had to either adapt or be eaten. So, evolutionists of the day believed, the butterflies adapted by turning dark. Soon, all the white butterflies had become dark butterflies.
The problem was that no actual adaptation took place. Instead, it was just a shift in the already existing population. Very few dark butterflies survived prior to the pollution. After the pollution, the dark butterflies blended better, and soon the white butterflies became bird food.
I bring this up because of something I've noticed recently in regards to recent news about various viruses that have either mutated or may mutate, causing a health hazard. The idea is evolutionary in nature (micro-evolutionary in nature, actually...so, having nothing to do with supporting evolution versus creation, since the creation view supports micro-evolution). There is a virus. But this virus mutates, developing characteristics that allow it to better survive, and harder to kill by modern medicine.
We've seen the news about the bird flu, for example. Or how about the new one about the rare cold virus that has killed some folks recently? Are we seeing evidence that a virus as truly "evolved", in a sense, and mutated into another form?
Or, is it possible, that we are seeing a population shift? Or, perhaps, different breeds, in a sense, of the same virus? It is possible that both viruses descended from the same parent virus. Over time, and through isolation, one strain of the virus lost certain genetic information compared to the other strain. So, yes, they are different...but not as a result of a mutation. Both, then, coexist. However, for whatever reason, there is a population shift. The more dangerous strain is becoming more prominent, possibly because whatever external factor that used to keep it in check isn't around any more.
I raise this because it has implications on the "fear" that the bird flu may mutate at any given moment to something more dangerous. Perhaps it won't.
And look at the implications for the overuse of antibiotics. It has been suggested that viruses are becoming resistant to antibiotics. They have mutated. But it is also possible that these antibiotic-resistant strains have always existed. Only, now that we have been successfully eliminating their competition through antibiotic use, the ones that are resistant are, again, experiencing a population shift.
What I haven't seen is any real evidence given that we've actually ever witnessed a mutation as has been suggested in the media. Would we be able to differentiate a mutation from a population shift? History would suggest not necessarily. What I'm curious about is if anyone who is more familiar with this has links to information that provides such evidence. Because as of right now, I keep reading phrases such as, "scientists believe...," qualifying any such claims.
Such qualifiers sound suspiciously similar to the very phrases scientists balk at when they come from creationists. It only goes to show how much of science, even today, is framed by our beliefs.
In this class, we learned of an argument that, once upon a time, evolutionists used to use to prove that evolution takes places. Then, it was shown how this, as it turned out, did nothing to prove evolution. (Nor did it make any difference whatsoever to the creation side of things.) This case was about some butterflies (or moths...actually, I forget), and how prior to the industrial revolution, there were all these butterflies of a certain color. But, once the industries started their task of polluting the air, the butterflies changed their color. It was thought that, as a result of the darkening of the trees due to air pollution, that those butterflies that were white were obvious targets for birds, and quickly had to either adapt or be eaten. So, evolutionists of the day believed, the butterflies adapted by turning dark. Soon, all the white butterflies had become dark butterflies.
The problem was that no actual adaptation took place. Instead, it was just a shift in the already existing population. Very few dark butterflies survived prior to the pollution. After the pollution, the dark butterflies blended better, and soon the white butterflies became bird food.
I bring this up because of something I've noticed recently in regards to recent news about various viruses that have either mutated or may mutate, causing a health hazard. The idea is evolutionary in nature (micro-evolutionary in nature, actually...so, having nothing to do with supporting evolution versus creation, since the creation view supports micro-evolution). There is a virus. But this virus mutates, developing characteristics that allow it to better survive, and harder to kill by modern medicine.
We've seen the news about the bird flu, for example. Or how about the new one about the rare cold virus that has killed some folks recently? Are we seeing evidence that a virus as truly "evolved", in a sense, and mutated into another form?
Or, is it possible, that we are seeing a population shift? Or, perhaps, different breeds, in a sense, of the same virus? It is possible that both viruses descended from the same parent virus. Over time, and through isolation, one strain of the virus lost certain genetic information compared to the other strain. So, yes, they are different...but not as a result of a mutation. Both, then, coexist. However, for whatever reason, there is a population shift. The more dangerous strain is becoming more prominent, possibly because whatever external factor that used to keep it in check isn't around any more.
I raise this because it has implications on the "fear" that the bird flu may mutate at any given moment to something more dangerous. Perhaps it won't.
And look at the implications for the overuse of antibiotics. It has been suggested that viruses are becoming resistant to antibiotics. They have mutated. But it is also possible that these antibiotic-resistant strains have always existed. Only, now that we have been successfully eliminating their competition through antibiotic use, the ones that are resistant are, again, experiencing a population shift.
What I haven't seen is any real evidence given that we've actually ever witnessed a mutation as has been suggested in the media. Would we be able to differentiate a mutation from a population shift? History would suggest not necessarily. What I'm curious about is if anyone who is more familiar with this has links to information that provides such evidence. Because as of right now, I keep reading phrases such as, "scientists believe...," qualifying any such claims.
Such qualifiers sound suspiciously similar to the very phrases scientists balk at when they come from creationists. It only goes to show how much of science, even today, is framed by our beliefs.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
The Case of the Missing Case
Two days ago, the three movies we borrowed from the library were due back. Two of the movies were ready to go. The third? Well, we had the DVD, but no case for it. This, of course, is not unusual in our home. With four kids (not to mention myself!), things get misplaced frequently.
So, a mass search of the house ensued. First, in all the usual and expected places. When the case didn't turn up, we searched all the unusual and unexpected places. Still no case. We interrogated the kids, but none of them knew where it was. Under the beds, behind furniture, stuffed among the piles of papers and books strewn across the house, in the laundry room (including, yes, in the washer and dryer!), through piles of laundry, bathroom cabinets, and everywhere.
Nothing. Of course, we're in the process of preparing for a move, so things are in a general disarray at the moment. I explained this situation to the librarian, and he gave me special dispensation, renewing the disc for me to give me more time to find the disc.
I, of course, checked under our bed, between the wall and our mattress, in and around our nightstands. Very thoroughly, I might add. So, of course, I was a little put out when my wife grilled me on just how well I checked there.
"Did you look between the wall and...?"
"Yes!"
"What about underneath...?"
"Yes! I did!"
I detailed where I looked quite extensively. But the next day, the case was still missing.
That night, just before going to bed, I decided to make one last check in our room. Just to be sure. You know. Just in case. Which really means that little voice in the back of my heading saying, "Uh, Ryan? Are you sure you looked as well as you say you did?" Of course, admitting I hadn't would only prove my wife's distrust of my searching ability as correct. So, I wouldn't admit.
Anyhow, there I was at eleven o'clock at night on my knees, searching under the bed once again. And that's when I noticed something. Near the wall, behind a box. It was thin and white. Just like a DVD case. I moved the box and, lo and behold, there it was! The DVD case!
Of course, the only possible solution was that at some point one of the kids found it and stuffed it back there at some point after I had searched under the bed. That's it. Really. Because it couldn't be that I didn't search good enough. Not after tearing apart the entire house.
*Sigh*
Okay, okay, okay. I admit it. I was wrong. I looked under the bed, sure. But not as thoroughly as I had made my wife believe. And as a result, I went to my wife on my knees and begged her forgiveness. (Honestly, I really did do that. Because I know when I'm doomed.)
So the case is missing no more. Of course, the question still remains. How, exactly, did the case get there to begin with? That, I'm sure, was the misdoings of my kids. Still, it taught me something. I'm just not about to admit what that is.
So, a mass search of the house ensued. First, in all the usual and expected places. When the case didn't turn up, we searched all the unusual and unexpected places. Still no case. We interrogated the kids, but none of them knew where it was. Under the beds, behind furniture, stuffed among the piles of papers and books strewn across the house, in the laundry room (including, yes, in the washer and dryer!), through piles of laundry, bathroom cabinets, and everywhere.
Nothing. Of course, we're in the process of preparing for a move, so things are in a general disarray at the moment. I explained this situation to the librarian, and he gave me special dispensation, renewing the disc for me to give me more time to find the disc.
I, of course, checked under our bed, between the wall and our mattress, in and around our nightstands. Very thoroughly, I might add. So, of course, I was a little put out when my wife grilled me on just how well I checked there.
"Did you look between the wall and...?"
"Yes!"
"What about underneath...?"
"Yes! I did!"
I detailed where I looked quite extensively. But the next day, the case was still missing.
That night, just before going to bed, I decided to make one last check in our room. Just to be sure. You know. Just in case. Which really means that little voice in the back of my heading saying, "Uh, Ryan? Are you sure you looked as well as you say you did?" Of course, admitting I hadn't would only prove my wife's distrust of my searching ability as correct. So, I wouldn't admit.
Anyhow, there I was at eleven o'clock at night on my knees, searching under the bed once again. And that's when I noticed something. Near the wall, behind a box. It was thin and white. Just like a DVD case. I moved the box and, lo and behold, there it was! The DVD case!
Of course, the only possible solution was that at some point one of the kids found it and stuffed it back there at some point after I had searched under the bed. That's it. Really. Because it couldn't be that I didn't search good enough. Not after tearing apart the entire house.
*Sigh*
Okay, okay, okay. I admit it. I was wrong. I looked under the bed, sure. But not as thoroughly as I had made my wife believe. And as a result, I went to my wife on my knees and begged her forgiveness. (Honestly, I really did do that. Because I know when I'm doomed.)
So the case is missing no more. Of course, the question still remains. How, exactly, did the case get there to begin with? That, I'm sure, was the misdoings of my kids. Still, it taught me something. I'm just not about to admit what that is.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
What's Next? No Friends Allowed?
Well, I think we're approaching the end of civilized civilization as we know it. And I'm only partly joking. Because from this point forward, you are not allowed to hug anyone. That would constitute a "public display of affection" after all. Even if that hug is a friendly "good-bye" hug among friends. That'll earn you a detention.
Oh, and I guess that little tear drop forming in the corner of your eye when you know you won't be seeing them for the entire summer vacation? Cause for suspension, I'm sure. In fact, you'd better not even have friends, because that would eliminate any possibility of displaying any form of affection at all.
That's what this world is coming to, apparently...at least as evidenced by this article.
Something is wrong here. I'm sure the school board was originally trying to preventing the "suck-face" displays that irritate the on-lookers in the school hallways. Seems reasonable. But come on, a good-bye hug among friends?
I'm tired of the implications that touching implies some impropriety in this world. If anything, I think there is a serious lack of touching in the world. People need affection. People need to know they are loved and cared about. People need a shoulder to cry on or a comforting embrace at times. Girlfriends need (for some reason that eludes me) to hold hands or lock arms as a way to prove their BFF status to everyone around them. Even boys need to rough house. Touching is a part of life. It is a necessary and healthy part of life.
So, what is it with banning the "PDA" (public display of affection)? And what school principle would be so cold-hearted to interpreted such a school policy so literally? Have we forgotten our common sense?
I'll admit, I'm not a "huggy" kind of guy. I find it slightly uncomfortable when my fellow man throws his arm around me to show me he appreciates me. Yet, frankly, I wouldn't want it to end. Because the only way I'll stop being uncomfortable with it is when I see how important it is as a normal part of life. A normal part of relationships.
There is a guy at church who a touchy-feely kind of guy. If he is within a few feet of you having a conversation, he'll undoubtedly pat you on the back, hug you, shake your hand, or even, dare I say it, place his hand on your shoulder! And despite my own discomfort in displaying similar PDAs, I find it truly pleasurable to be around this man. He makes you feel loved. He makes you feel like he really cares about you, and that you matter.
I wish the same could be said about me and my more hands-off approach.
So, I say, go ahead. Hug a friend. And if it leads to a detention, so be it. Because we all need a little hug now and again. And no school policy should tell us otherwise.
Oh, and I guess that little tear drop forming in the corner of your eye when you know you won't be seeing them for the entire summer vacation? Cause for suspension, I'm sure. In fact, you'd better not even have friends, because that would eliminate any possibility of displaying any form of affection at all.
That's what this world is coming to, apparently...at least as evidenced by this article.
Something is wrong here. I'm sure the school board was originally trying to preventing the "suck-face" displays that irritate the on-lookers in the school hallways. Seems reasonable. But come on, a good-bye hug among friends?
I'm tired of the implications that touching implies some impropriety in this world. If anything, I think there is a serious lack of touching in the world. People need affection. People need to know they are loved and cared about. People need a shoulder to cry on or a comforting embrace at times. Girlfriends need (for some reason that eludes me) to hold hands or lock arms as a way to prove their BFF status to everyone around them. Even boys need to rough house. Touching is a part of life. It is a necessary and healthy part of life.
So, what is it with banning the "PDA" (public display of affection)? And what school principle would be so cold-hearted to interpreted such a school policy so literally? Have we forgotten our common sense?
I'll admit, I'm not a "huggy" kind of guy. I find it slightly uncomfortable when my fellow man throws his arm around me to show me he appreciates me. Yet, frankly, I wouldn't want it to end. Because the only way I'll stop being uncomfortable with it is when I see how important it is as a normal part of life. A normal part of relationships.
There is a guy at church who a touchy-feely kind of guy. If he is within a few feet of you having a conversation, he'll undoubtedly pat you on the back, hug you, shake your hand, or even, dare I say it, place his hand on your shoulder! And despite my own discomfort in displaying similar PDAs, I find it truly pleasurable to be around this man. He makes you feel loved. He makes you feel like he really cares about you, and that you matter.
I wish the same could be said about me and my more hands-off approach.
So, I say, go ahead. Hug a friend. And if it leads to a detention, so be it. Because we all need a little hug now and again. And no school policy should tell us otherwise.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
I'm Right! (Aren't I Always?)
There's some saying about a man who toots his own horn being bad thing. I forget how it goes, precisely. But, I'm going to take my chances here and say...I was right!
Of course, what I'm right about really should be nothing spectacular. It involves cereal and a healthy heart. According to this article, men who eat a bowl of high-fiber cereal each day are at significantly less risk for heart disease than those who don't.
It seems common sensical to me. So much so that I've been preaching the "eat foods high in fiber" message for a long time. My wife, frankly, is sick of it, and I have to sneak a peak at the nutrition labels now when she isn't looking. My personal goal is that when I'm eating any food that would be considered a "grain" or "bread" item, to aim for at least 2 grams of fiber per serving.
My kids, of course, would love if it I had been wrong. Because me buying "kid's cereal" is a rare treat. Sure, it comes "fortified" with vitamins. But fortifying really doesn't make it healthy. It just makes it seem healthier. No, I insist that they eat high-fiber cereal, eating it like a man. Of course, there are plenty of healthy yet tasty high-fiber cereals. Raisin Bran, Frosted Mini Wheats, Kashi Go-Lean Crunch, Mueslix and similar multi-grain cereals, just to name a few.
Sorry, kids. But this only proves I'm right and justifies the lack of Cocoa Crisp and Lucky Charms cereals.
See, thing is, when my cholesterol levels started to creep up a while back, it was during a time that I had reduced my high-fiber cereal intake. When I returned to due diligence, my cholesterol levels dropped, no medication necessary!
So branch out, folks. Browse a little longer in that cereal aisle. Check the labels. If you see less than 4 grams of fiber, put it back on the shelf. Yep, that means skipping some cereals that otherwise seem healthy, such as Special K. And if you are new to the game, I don't suggest jumping right in with a 9-gram per serving cereal. Ease into the waters of healthy cereals. Your heart will thank you for it. (If, that is, your heart could talk.)
Incidentally, diabetics, who are most prone to heart disease, are most likely to benefit from this change. Just bolus accordingly!
Of course, what I'm right about really should be nothing spectacular. It involves cereal and a healthy heart. According to this article, men who eat a bowl of high-fiber cereal each day are at significantly less risk for heart disease than those who don't.
It seems common sensical to me. So much so that I've been preaching the "eat foods high in fiber" message for a long time. My wife, frankly, is sick of it, and I have to sneak a peak at the nutrition labels now when she isn't looking. My personal goal is that when I'm eating any food that would be considered a "grain" or "bread" item, to aim for at least 2 grams of fiber per serving.
My kids, of course, would love if it I had been wrong. Because me buying "kid's cereal" is a rare treat. Sure, it comes "fortified" with vitamins. But fortifying really doesn't make it healthy. It just makes it seem healthier. No, I insist that they eat high-fiber cereal, eating it like a man. Of course, there are plenty of healthy yet tasty high-fiber cereals. Raisin Bran, Frosted Mini Wheats, Kashi Go-Lean Crunch, Mueslix and similar multi-grain cereals, just to name a few.
Sorry, kids. But this only proves I'm right and justifies the lack of Cocoa Crisp and Lucky Charms cereals.
See, thing is, when my cholesterol levels started to creep up a while back, it was during a time that I had reduced my high-fiber cereal intake. When I returned to due diligence, my cholesterol levels dropped, no medication necessary!
So branch out, folks. Browse a little longer in that cereal aisle. Check the labels. If you see less than 4 grams of fiber, put it back on the shelf. Yep, that means skipping some cereals that otherwise seem healthy, such as Special K. And if you are new to the game, I don't suggest jumping right in with a 9-gram per serving cereal. Ease into the waters of healthy cereals. Your heart will thank you for it. (If, that is, your heart could talk.)
Incidentally, diabetics, who are most prone to heart disease, are most likely to benefit from this change. Just bolus accordingly!
Monday, October 08, 2007
Shedding Light on His Dark Materials
I received a new book in the mail this weekend, co-authored by none other than my own brother, Kurt Bruner. Kurt has a bunch of books to his credit, including several co-authored with Jim Ware (Finding God in the Lord of the Rings being the most popular.)
My brother writes Christian non-fiction, so perhaps that's not your cup of tea. If it is, however, then his new book might be right up your ally. It focuses on Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials fantasy trilogy.
At this point, I can't tell you, first hand, much about the book. For one, I've never read the His Dark Materials trilogy. And two, I've not yet read Kurt's book about His Dark Materials. But, since it just came out, and there is an upcoming movie based on the first book in the series, I thought I'd bring it to your attention.
What this means for me, of course, is that I'll have to go read Philip Pullman's books and then read Kurt's book. So, give me about four months to get back to you. Or just go buy Kurt's book without waiting for me. Either works.
The book is titled Shedding Light on His Dark Materials, by Kurt Bruner and Jim Ware.
My brother writes Christian non-fiction, so perhaps that's not your cup of tea. If it is, however, then his new book might be right up your ally. It focuses on Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials fantasy trilogy.
At this point, I can't tell you, first hand, much about the book. For one, I've never read the His Dark Materials trilogy. And two, I've not yet read Kurt's book about His Dark Materials. But, since it just came out, and there is an upcoming movie based on the first book in the series, I thought I'd bring it to your attention.
What this means for me, of course, is that I'll have to go read Philip Pullman's books and then read Kurt's book. So, give me about four months to get back to you. Or just go buy Kurt's book without waiting for me. Either works.
The book is titled Shedding Light on His Dark Materials, by Kurt Bruner and Jim Ware.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
When Vacation is Over
Vacation is over. Our twelve days of bliss ended last night at roughly 9:00 pm when our car, fully loaded (including the car-top carrier), pulled into the driveway. Four of those days were spent in the car, making our way from Michigan down to Florida...and back.
You know, back when I was a kid, my family would take 2-week vacations in the car, and I remember my mother yelling at us to get our noses out of that book and look at how beautiful the scenery was. We'd pop our heads up, see that instead of there just being trees, there were now trees on hills. Uh, yeah. Back to our books.
I found myself on the opposite side of the fence this time around. We have a gorgeous country. The foothills and mountains in Tennessee are beautiful. Yet, there my kids were, noses buried in their portable TV screens playing video tames (okay, so times have changed a little bit), reluctantly glancing up when we'd gasp and proclaim how they need to take this in now, because they'll rarely see this kind of beauty at home!
Our destination was, as I mentioned, Florida. More specifically, Walt Disney World. Four parks, six days, legs-so-tired-we-could-barely-walk...but it was a blast. I managed to terrify my two oldest boys by taking them on the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, and I swear my second son was about to have a heart attack riding Expedition Everest. (He quite literally "screamed like a little girl.") Of course, when he got off, he decided to ride it two more times.
And now we're back. Back to work, back to keeping up with the house, back to cooking healthy meals (since I think I managed to gain about 10 pounds).
It is always interesting, though, to see what has changed in the time you are gone on vacation. In 12 days, for example, the daily temperature dropped from around 80 when we left, to 69 today. The price of a bottle of Diet Mt. Dew in the vending machine at work went up from an unbelievable $1.35 to a disturbing $1.45. And there is now a pile of lumber sitting across the street from our new house. (Well, new basement. It isn't exactly a house yet. Just a hole in the ground lined with concrete.)
Mostly, though, things are pretty much the same. Rather comforting, I'd say.
You know, back when I was a kid, my family would take 2-week vacations in the car, and I remember my mother yelling at us to get our noses out of that book and look at how beautiful the scenery was. We'd pop our heads up, see that instead of there just being trees, there were now trees on hills. Uh, yeah. Back to our books.
I found myself on the opposite side of the fence this time around. We have a gorgeous country. The foothills and mountains in Tennessee are beautiful. Yet, there my kids were, noses buried in their portable TV screens playing video tames (okay, so times have changed a little bit), reluctantly glancing up when we'd gasp and proclaim how they need to take this in now, because they'll rarely see this kind of beauty at home!
Our destination was, as I mentioned, Florida. More specifically, Walt Disney World. Four parks, six days, legs-so-tired-we-could-barely-walk...but it was a blast. I managed to terrify my two oldest boys by taking them on the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, and I swear my second son was about to have a heart attack riding Expedition Everest. (He quite literally "screamed like a little girl.") Of course, when he got off, he decided to ride it two more times.
And now we're back. Back to work, back to keeping up with the house, back to cooking healthy meals (since I think I managed to gain about 10 pounds).
It is always interesting, though, to see what has changed in the time you are gone on vacation. In 12 days, for example, the daily temperature dropped from around 80 when we left, to 69 today. The price of a bottle of Diet Mt. Dew in the vending machine at work went up from an unbelievable $1.35 to a disturbing $1.45. And there is now a pile of lumber sitting across the street from our new house. (Well, new basement. It isn't exactly a house yet. Just a hole in the ground lined with concrete.)
Mostly, though, things are pretty much the same. Rather comforting, I'd say.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
A Harry Potter Analysis, part two
Note: As with my previous post, this post contains spoilers for those who haven't read the complete Harry Potter series. Proceed with caution.
The Messiah figure is quite common in literature...and particularly in the genre of science-fiction and fantasy. One reason for that is, in the world of science fiction and fantasy, unlike other more "realistic" genres, coming up with a way to have a character die and come back to life is easier. It simply takes a bit of magic or whatever.
But not all Messiah figures are created equal. Take The Matrix. Neo is, undeniably, a Messiah figure. He was "prophesied" as being "the one" (and even his name is a anagram of this). And, at a key moment in the movie, he dies. Only after his death and subsequent resurrection does he have the power to defeat the agents that led to his death.
And despite later symbolism, such as Neo's "ascension into heaven" at the very end of the movie, and his ability to raise Trinity from the dead in the second movie, Neo, as a true Messiah figure, kind of falls flat. Nothing leading up to his death and resurrection really can make him like Jesus Christ.
In Lord of the Rings, we have Gandalf, and his death and eventually resurrection as well, after dueling the "demon". But, again, his role as "Messiah figure" is limited. He, ultimately, isn't the salvation of all...but merely salvation of some of his friends. Of course, Tolkien didn't set out to write allegorically.
Harry Potter is different. While he, too, was prophesied as the one who would save the wizarding and muggle worlds, and while he eventually dies and comes back to life (in a sense), he is a stronger representation of the true Messiah, Jesus Christ. Why?
First, the true Messiah was a model of perfection. He lived a perfect life. This was key, because in order for him to be the final sacrifice for all, he had to be the "spotless lamb" that God had required of the Jews for generations. And while Harry wasn't exactly perfect, what is clear is that he, unlike even Dumbledore before him, approached his role as "savior" with a pure heart. He was never seeking anything for himself. He was seeking truth. Repeatedly, Dumbledore admired Harry for his pure heart, his ability to love, and the love that was shown to him through his parents. He was able to secure the Deathly Hallows because he wasn't, as was the case of Dumbledore, seeking to raise himself up as powerful. He wasn't proud.
And it was this very quality that made it possible for Harry to defeat death, and ultimately, Voldemort.
Harry also had his "disciples" prior to his death, including friends Ron and Hermione, as well as others. But he also had his "pharisees". The kids (and grown-ups) who despised who he was. The Malfoys, for example.
As the Messiah figure, Harry ultimately defeated death, "Satan" (in the form of Voldemort) and brought about a "heavenly kingdom"...that is, a wizarding world that no longer had to live in fear.
Now, the figure I find more complex in is Dumbledore, so I'll attack that another time.
The Messiah figure is quite common in literature...and particularly in the genre of science-fiction and fantasy. One reason for that is, in the world of science fiction and fantasy, unlike other more "realistic" genres, coming up with a way to have a character die and come back to life is easier. It simply takes a bit of magic or whatever.
But not all Messiah figures are created equal. Take The Matrix. Neo is, undeniably, a Messiah figure. He was "prophesied" as being "the one" (and even his name is a anagram of this). And, at a key moment in the movie, he dies. Only after his death and subsequent resurrection does he have the power to defeat the agents that led to his death.
And despite later symbolism, such as Neo's "ascension into heaven" at the very end of the movie, and his ability to raise Trinity from the dead in the second movie, Neo, as a true Messiah figure, kind of falls flat. Nothing leading up to his death and resurrection really can make him like Jesus Christ.
In Lord of the Rings, we have Gandalf, and his death and eventually resurrection as well, after dueling the "demon". But, again, his role as "Messiah figure" is limited. He, ultimately, isn't the salvation of all...but merely salvation of some of his friends. Of course, Tolkien didn't set out to write allegorically.
Harry Potter is different. While he, too, was prophesied as the one who would save the wizarding and muggle worlds, and while he eventually dies and comes back to life (in a sense), he is a stronger representation of the true Messiah, Jesus Christ. Why?
First, the true Messiah was a model of perfection. He lived a perfect life. This was key, because in order for him to be the final sacrifice for all, he had to be the "spotless lamb" that God had required of the Jews for generations. And while Harry wasn't exactly perfect, what is clear is that he, unlike even Dumbledore before him, approached his role as "savior" with a pure heart. He was never seeking anything for himself. He was seeking truth. Repeatedly, Dumbledore admired Harry for his pure heart, his ability to love, and the love that was shown to him through his parents. He was able to secure the Deathly Hallows because he wasn't, as was the case of Dumbledore, seeking to raise himself up as powerful. He wasn't proud.
And it was this very quality that made it possible for Harry to defeat death, and ultimately, Voldemort.
Harry also had his "disciples" prior to his death, including friends Ron and Hermione, as well as others. But he also had his "pharisees". The kids (and grown-ups) who despised who he was. The Malfoys, for example.
As the Messiah figure, Harry ultimately defeated death, "Satan" (in the form of Voldemort) and brought about a "heavenly kingdom"...that is, a wizarding world that no longer had to live in fear.
Now, the figure I find more complex in is Dumbledore, so I'll attack that another time.
Friday, August 03, 2007
A Harry Potter Analysis
I'd like to warn anyone who hasn't read through the final Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, to stop reading now. This entry contains spoilers. You have been warned.
Back in college, I took a science fiction literature class. Despite my love of sci-fi, it was probably the hardest class I had ever taken in my four years at U of M. See, I never was one who took much stock in finding symbolism in books and movies. Mostly, that's because I didn't see. But in order to pass this class, I had to learn to see it. It wasn't until several weeks in that I noticed a strong pattern of Christian imagery showing up in science fiction. The Messiah figure, for example. So, it hit me. I know about Christianity, being a Christian myself. Christian imagery was something I could do. So, I skated by (barely) through the rest of the class finding Christian imagery in everything we had to read (even if it wasn't there).
So, you might not be surprised for me to note the strong Christian imagery found in the Harry Potter series. How much was intentional on J.K. Rowling's part, I don't know.
It starts before the beginning, with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and a prophecy. Throughout the series, Voldemort is portrayed as being snake-like, speaking in the language of snakes, and even having a "pet" snake, Nagini. You can't help but compare this to the Genesis account of the serpent, representing Satan, in the Garden of Eden.
In Genesis, the serpent is cursed after leading Eve astray: "And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heal."
Voldemort attacked Harry's mother, killing her. But her love protected him, and ultimately Voldemort merely "struck Harry's heal", leaving the scar. But this scar wasn't enough, and ultimately, in the end, it would be Harry who would "crush Voldemort's head".
Like Satan, Voldemort sought absolute power. And like Satan, Voldemort managed to lead many astray (Death Eaters compared to the fallen angels or demons). Incidentally, I think Death Eaters, as a symbol, represents multiple things, this only being one of them.
Another comparison to the demons or fallen angels are Dementors, soul-sucking creatures who come to serve Voldemort. If viewed as spiritual beings, the only defense against Dementors are another "spiritual" being, the Patronus. Our word "patron" is derived from the Latin word patronus, which means protector. The Patronus, in Harry Potter's world, is represented by light, compared to the Dementor's darkness.
Once Harry has been "marked" by Voldemort, he became "the chosen one", the one expected to be the salvation of the magical (and muggle) world. As a side, I can't help but see the magical and muggle comparison similar to the Jews and Gentiles. Anyhow, as we finally learn in Deathly Hallows, Harry must die in order to defeat Voldemort. But death, alone, is not enough. And with the help of the Deathly Hallows, Harry ultimately overcomes death. While he spends time (3 days in the tomb?) in the King's Cross station, he ultimately "raises back to life". Harry was, with no attempts to hide it, the Messiah figure. And once Harry defeated death, Voldemort had no power over him.
The Hallows, themselves, seem to be a symbol of the trinity, at least in my view. It is only through this trinity that power over death comes. We have the Invisibility Cloak, which I would equate to the Holy Spirit. Then there is the Resurrection Stone, symbolizing Christ. Finally, there is the "Elder" wand. God the Father (ultimately elder). I don't know that the symbolism goes beyond that. For example, I'm not sure that the Elder Wand's actions/power is supposed to be compared to God the Father.
That's enough for today. I'll follow up with more in a later post!
Back in college, I took a science fiction literature class. Despite my love of sci-fi, it was probably the hardest class I had ever taken in my four years at U of M. See, I never was one who took much stock in finding symbolism in books and movies. Mostly, that's because I didn't see. But in order to pass this class, I had to learn to see it. It wasn't until several weeks in that I noticed a strong pattern of Christian imagery showing up in science fiction. The Messiah figure, for example. So, it hit me. I know about Christianity, being a Christian myself. Christian imagery was something I could do. So, I skated by (barely) through the rest of the class finding Christian imagery in everything we had to read (even if it wasn't there).
So, you might not be surprised for me to note the strong Christian imagery found in the Harry Potter series. How much was intentional on J.K. Rowling's part, I don't know.
It starts before the beginning, with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and a prophecy. Throughout the series, Voldemort is portrayed as being snake-like, speaking in the language of snakes, and even having a "pet" snake, Nagini. You can't help but compare this to the Genesis account of the serpent, representing Satan, in the Garden of Eden.
In Genesis, the serpent is cursed after leading Eve astray: "And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heal."
Voldemort attacked Harry's mother, killing her. But her love protected him, and ultimately Voldemort merely "struck Harry's heal", leaving the scar. But this scar wasn't enough, and ultimately, in the end, it would be Harry who would "crush Voldemort's head".
Like Satan, Voldemort sought absolute power. And like Satan, Voldemort managed to lead many astray (Death Eaters compared to the fallen angels or demons). Incidentally, I think Death Eaters, as a symbol, represents multiple things, this only being one of them.
Another comparison to the demons or fallen angels are Dementors, soul-sucking creatures who come to serve Voldemort. If viewed as spiritual beings, the only defense against Dementors are another "spiritual" being, the Patronus. Our word "patron" is derived from the Latin word patronus, which means protector. The Patronus, in Harry Potter's world, is represented by light, compared to the Dementor's darkness.
Once Harry has been "marked" by Voldemort, he became "the chosen one", the one expected to be the salvation of the magical (and muggle) world. As a side, I can't help but see the magical and muggle comparison similar to the Jews and Gentiles. Anyhow, as we finally learn in Deathly Hallows, Harry must die in order to defeat Voldemort. But death, alone, is not enough. And with the help of the Deathly Hallows, Harry ultimately overcomes death. While he spends time (3 days in the tomb?) in the King's Cross station, he ultimately "raises back to life". Harry was, with no attempts to hide it, the Messiah figure. And once Harry defeated death, Voldemort had no power over him.
The Hallows, themselves, seem to be a symbol of the trinity, at least in my view. It is only through this trinity that power over death comes. We have the Invisibility Cloak, which I would equate to the Holy Spirit. Then there is the Resurrection Stone, symbolizing Christ. Finally, there is the "Elder" wand. God the Father (ultimately elder). I don't know that the symbolism goes beyond that. For example, I'm not sure that the Elder Wand's actions/power is supposed to be compared to God the Father.
That's enough for today. I'll follow up with more in a later post!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
My Feet Are Enjoying It
When I was a boy, we would roam the neighborhood and neighboring woods quite frequently barefoot. Our dusty, dirty street...or road, as we preferred to call it, since a street would somehow imply the presence of pavement...was part of our playground, and despite the razor-sharp stones strewn about, we would run along without shoes or socks without issue.
That all changed for me when I was diagnosed with diabetes. Going barefoot became somewhat taboo, considering diabetics can have foot problems such as neuropathy. And diabetics have trouble healing (apparently, though, 25 years later, I've been healing just fine).
So, I was forced to wear socks. Okay, forced is a strong word. Frankly, I preferred wearing socks. I had dry skin, and slathering my feet with cream and putting on socks at night was the norm for me. But now, the option of going barefoot was stolen away...forced to wear socks.
It didn't take long for my feet to grow accustomed to being clothed 24/7. With rare exception, I actually preferred to wear socks as much as possible. To this day, the hair on my legs starting below the sock line has been worn away and just won't grow back. To this day, my feet, when bare feel worse than naked, cold, vulnerable, sensitive.
So, I wear socks. Always.
Which brings me to the issue of sandals. I've never been much of a sandal person, primarily due to said socks. Thing is, during the summer months, keeping stocking feet inside leather shoes is rather sweat-inducing. But to wear sandals without socks? Are you crazy? My feet hate it. The soles of my feet get sweaty and stick to the bottom of the sandal. When you walk, there is this sort of sucking feeling as the sandal peels away from your sweaty feet with each step.
Just, ick!
So, I wear socks with my sandals. And you know what? I think it looks just fine. Really, I do. I've seen others wear socks with sandals, and they look fine, too.
Now, my wife disagrees. But I've reached an age where I, frankly, don't care about the fashion sense of sandals. I'm wearing socks with sandals because I like it that way. It feels good, and my feet don't sweat. So what if Stacy and Clinton from TLC's "What Not To Wear" might pounce on me any minute for it. It is something I'm not willing to budge on. Those fashion gurus are going to have to wait for style to catch up to me. Perhaps I'm a trend setter. Perhaps I'm a nerd.
Either way, my feet are enjoying it.
That all changed for me when I was diagnosed with diabetes. Going barefoot became somewhat taboo, considering diabetics can have foot problems such as neuropathy. And diabetics have trouble healing (apparently, though, 25 years later, I've been healing just fine).
So, I was forced to wear socks. Okay, forced is a strong word. Frankly, I preferred wearing socks. I had dry skin, and slathering my feet with cream and putting on socks at night was the norm for me. But now, the option of going barefoot was stolen away...forced to wear socks.
It didn't take long for my feet to grow accustomed to being clothed 24/7. With rare exception, I actually preferred to wear socks as much as possible. To this day, the hair on my legs starting below the sock line has been worn away and just won't grow back. To this day, my feet, when bare feel worse than naked, cold, vulnerable, sensitive.
So, I wear socks. Always.
Which brings me to the issue of sandals. I've never been much of a sandal person, primarily due to said socks. Thing is, during the summer months, keeping stocking feet inside leather shoes is rather sweat-inducing. But to wear sandals without socks? Are you crazy? My feet hate it. The soles of my feet get sweaty and stick to the bottom of the sandal. When you walk, there is this sort of sucking feeling as the sandal peels away from your sweaty feet with each step.
Just, ick!
So, I wear socks with my sandals. And you know what? I think it looks just fine. Really, I do. I've seen others wear socks with sandals, and they look fine, too.
Now, my wife disagrees. But I've reached an age where I, frankly, don't care about the fashion sense of sandals. I'm wearing socks with sandals because I like it that way. It feels good, and my feet don't sweat. So what if Stacy and Clinton from TLC's "What Not To Wear" might pounce on me any minute for it. It is something I'm not willing to budge on. Those fashion gurus are going to have to wait for style to catch up to me. Perhaps I'm a trend setter. Perhaps I'm a nerd.
Either way, my feet are enjoying it.
Monday, July 09, 2007
I Don't Need No Stinkin' Statins!
I had my latest endo visit last week.
For the last couple of visits, my endo has been concerned about my LDL levels (the "bad" cholesterol). It was at 111 last time, and he said it should be under 100. Anything over 100 and they start pushing statins. And so, he started pushing statins.
Statins are, it seems, the latest wonder drug in the arsenal against heart disease, and since diabetics are, in general, at high risk for heart disease, it only seems natural to push the drug. And while I'm not really against the use of drugs such as statins, I'm concerned when doctors start turning to drugs before really analyzing dietary and activity-related causes. Elevated LDL levels may simply be a result of genetics. But it can also be a symptom. Turning to statins so quickly really only treats the symptoms and ignores the cause.
I knew the cause, in my case. My diet had gone downhill. While a generally healthy guy, I had allowed too many slices of pizza and breakfast burritos to slip into my diet. This, in addition to my rather sedentary lifestyle led to a rather sudden rise in LDL levels. I'd never had problems with LDLs before.
Ultimately, I declined the statins. I couldn't see going on a drug for something when I knew the cause. And, many months later of going back to healthier eating (eliminating saturated and trans fats from my diet as much as possible, increasing my intake of fiber-rich foods), and an exercise regimen, I wanted to tackle the problem the old-fashioned way.
Results are in. My 111 has dropped to 66. My HDLs have risen. I felt a bit like gloating. I wanted to say to my endo, "I don't need no stinkin' statins!"
That isn't to say statins aren't necessary at times. If someone truly can't get LDL levels down by improving diet and exercise, then it makes sense. My concern is that there really is little attempt at educating a patient in what that proper diet and exercise entails. Adding a bowl of oatmeal a day isn't going to do a whole lot if you're still eating that daily slice of pizza for lunch, for example.
Fortunately, I'm a self-motivated kind of guy when it comes to my health, and so I saw the problem and took back the reigns. Others may simply take the statin, but continue eating an unhealthy diet.
I've got one life to live, and I don't need to live it tied for the rest of my life to yet another drug. Insulin is quite enough, thank you very much.
For the last couple of visits, my endo has been concerned about my LDL levels (the "bad" cholesterol). It was at 111 last time, and he said it should be under 100. Anything over 100 and they start pushing statins. And so, he started pushing statins.
Statins are, it seems, the latest wonder drug in the arsenal against heart disease, and since diabetics are, in general, at high risk for heart disease, it only seems natural to push the drug. And while I'm not really against the use of drugs such as statins, I'm concerned when doctors start turning to drugs before really analyzing dietary and activity-related causes. Elevated LDL levels may simply be a result of genetics. But it can also be a symptom. Turning to statins so quickly really only treats the symptoms and ignores the cause.
I knew the cause, in my case. My diet had gone downhill. While a generally healthy guy, I had allowed too many slices of pizza and breakfast burritos to slip into my diet. This, in addition to my rather sedentary lifestyle led to a rather sudden rise in LDL levels. I'd never had problems with LDLs before.
Ultimately, I declined the statins. I couldn't see going on a drug for something when I knew the cause. And, many months later of going back to healthier eating (eliminating saturated and trans fats from my diet as much as possible, increasing my intake of fiber-rich foods), and an exercise regimen, I wanted to tackle the problem the old-fashioned way.
Results are in. My 111 has dropped to 66. My HDLs have risen. I felt a bit like gloating. I wanted to say to my endo, "I don't need no stinkin' statins!"
That isn't to say statins aren't necessary at times. If someone truly can't get LDL levels down by improving diet and exercise, then it makes sense. My concern is that there really is little attempt at educating a patient in what that proper diet and exercise entails. Adding a bowl of oatmeal a day isn't going to do a whole lot if you're still eating that daily slice of pizza for lunch, for example.
Fortunately, I'm a self-motivated kind of guy when it comes to my health, and so I saw the problem and took back the reigns. Others may simply take the statin, but continue eating an unhealthy diet.
I've got one life to live, and I don't need to live it tied for the rest of my life to yet another drug. Insulin is quite enough, thank you very much.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
When a Geek Laughs
I'm a geek. And in case you weren't aware, being a geek is "in". Part of pop culture, in fact, with shows like Beauty and the Geek. It wasn't always that way, I know. As a teen, being a geek was okay...but only to other geeks. My geek friends could safely call me a geek, but if a sports jock called me a geek, it was a serious insult.
At one time in my life, I was also a nerd. And in case you are wondering what differentiates the geek from the nerd, I define a nerd to be "a geek who looks the part". That's because there are plenty of geeks out there who you'd never peg as a geek by looks alone. (Okay...so, maybe I am a nerd, by that definition.)
Anyhow, recently, I become aware of seeming common trait among geeks. Geeks seem to amuse themselves easily. Things that aren't even funny will make them laugh out loud. And even moreso for things that aren't funny but are their own sayings.
There is one guy at work, for example, who has a laugh you can hear across the room. It is this laugh that originates not because anyone else said anything funny, but because he said something cleverly unfunny but amusing to himself. Anyone without arms length is obliged to laugh along with him, all the while knowing it really wasn't all that funny.
The sad truth is that I suffer the same malady, much the chagrin of my wife. I'm constantly making jokes that, in hindsight, really aren't funny to anyone else but myself. But I think they're funny. So, I laugh. Usually by myself. With everyone else just staring at me blankly.
I have to believe that when a geek laughs, it is a self-preservation technique. Geeks are so analytical, so self-focused, that they tend to miss a lot of humor around them. Yet, we all need to laugh. So, finding humor within ourselves is the only solution.
I celebrate my geek-hood. I firmly believe that while women like the jock, or perhaps the "bad boy" when dating...the one they really want to settle down with for the rest of their lives is the geek. A geek brings security, and often a big source of income if they are truly geeky enough.
Unfortunately, they don't bring much in the way of a sense of humor.
But that's what having kids is for.
At one time in my life, I was also a nerd. And in case you are wondering what differentiates the geek from the nerd, I define a nerd to be "a geek who looks the part". That's because there are plenty of geeks out there who you'd never peg as a geek by looks alone. (Okay...so, maybe I am a nerd, by that definition.)
Anyhow, recently, I become aware of seeming common trait among geeks. Geeks seem to amuse themselves easily. Things that aren't even funny will make them laugh out loud. And even moreso for things that aren't funny but are their own sayings.
There is one guy at work, for example, who has a laugh you can hear across the room. It is this laugh that originates not because anyone else said anything funny, but because he said something cleverly unfunny but amusing to himself. Anyone without arms length is obliged to laugh along with him, all the while knowing it really wasn't all that funny.
The sad truth is that I suffer the same malady, much the chagrin of my wife. I'm constantly making jokes that, in hindsight, really aren't funny to anyone else but myself. But I think they're funny. So, I laugh. Usually by myself. With everyone else just staring at me blankly.
I have to believe that when a geek laughs, it is a self-preservation technique. Geeks are so analytical, so self-focused, that they tend to miss a lot of humor around them. Yet, we all need to laugh. So, finding humor within ourselves is the only solution.
I celebrate my geek-hood. I firmly believe that while women like the jock, or perhaps the "bad boy" when dating...the one they really want to settle down with for the rest of their lives is the geek. A geek brings security, and often a big source of income if they are truly geeky enough.
Unfortunately, they don't bring much in the way of a sense of humor.
But that's what having kids is for.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
When to Break the Rules
When living with diabetes, there are the "right" things to do regarding treatment. All the things the doctor tells you to do and not do, the techniques the pump companies insist you follow, for example.
Thing is, in real life, times come about when the "right" way isn't going to work, and you're left without a decent backup plan. It is times like these that a MacGyverism can become necessary. (If you're not familiar with a MacGyverism, well, you'd have to be a fan of the TV show MacGyver...but basically, it means thinking up a solution to some problem on the spot with the tools at hand.)
I ran into such a case just yesterday. Mostly because I'm an idiot...but, unfortunately, idiocy can overcome the best of us from time to time. Anyhow, yesterday, I happily headed off to work, ignoring the fact that my insulin pump reservoir said I had all of 4 units left. Of course, when it says I have 4 units, it really means I have 14 units. But 14 units wasn't going to be enough to cover the fact that I had just eaten 40 carbs, and need to last out the day. But, since I only work 20 minutes from my home, I figured I'd see if I could make it.
Well, at 2:30 pm, my BGLs were tending high, and I got the dreaded empty reservoir alarm. But I still had a couple hours of work left in me. I dreaded having to head home, fill my reservoir, and come back again.
So, I broke the rules. I did something that isn't recommended. First, I disconnected my infusion set and rewound the pump. (Always disconnect, because rewinding a pump could actually suck insulin and/or blood out of you if you remained connected.) Second, I removed the reservoir/infusion set line from the pump. Then, using a handy-dandy ink pen (capped, of course), I gently pushed the reservoir plunger down, utilizing the remaining and otherwise unusable ~10 units of insulin left to fill up the tubing. One completely filled, I reconnected and used the pen to inject several units of insulin...being VERY careful to watch when I had run out, and the tubing started filling with air instead of insulin.
Then, I disconnected the infusion set again and retested a bit later. BGL was dropping, and I had enough insulin in me to last me until I got home.
Sure, the whole thing is not recommended. You'll never find a doctor or Minimed representative suggesting this technique. And, in fact, I would never recommend the technique. It was plain silly of me to have forgotten to fill my reservoir before I headed off to work. But, sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.
Thing is, diabetics have to do this kind of thing all the time. You are living your life daily with a disease that is unpredictable, being controlled by humans who are even more unpredictable.
Of course, my insurance company refuses to pay for enough insulin to allow me to keep a spare vial anywhere. They will only cover precisely the amount I need. I guess they fear I'm going to sell any extra on the black market or something. Sigh.
Thing is, in real life, times come about when the "right" way isn't going to work, and you're left without a decent backup plan. It is times like these that a MacGyverism can become necessary. (If you're not familiar with a MacGyverism, well, you'd have to be a fan of the TV show MacGyver...but basically, it means thinking up a solution to some problem on the spot with the tools at hand.)
I ran into such a case just yesterday. Mostly because I'm an idiot...but, unfortunately, idiocy can overcome the best of us from time to time. Anyhow, yesterday, I happily headed off to work, ignoring the fact that my insulin pump reservoir said I had all of 4 units left. Of course, when it says I have 4 units, it really means I have 14 units. But 14 units wasn't going to be enough to cover the fact that I had just eaten 40 carbs, and need to last out the day. But, since I only work 20 minutes from my home, I figured I'd see if I could make it.
Well, at 2:30 pm, my BGLs were tending high, and I got the dreaded empty reservoir alarm. But I still had a couple hours of work left in me. I dreaded having to head home, fill my reservoir, and come back again.
So, I broke the rules. I did something that isn't recommended. First, I disconnected my infusion set and rewound the pump. (Always disconnect, because rewinding a pump could actually suck insulin and/or blood out of you if you remained connected.) Second, I removed the reservoir/infusion set line from the pump. Then, using a handy-dandy ink pen (capped, of course), I gently pushed the reservoir plunger down, utilizing the remaining and otherwise unusable ~10 units of insulin left to fill up the tubing. One completely filled, I reconnected and used the pen to inject several units of insulin...being VERY careful to watch when I had run out, and the tubing started filling with air instead of insulin.
Then, I disconnected the infusion set again and retested a bit later. BGL was dropping, and I had enough insulin in me to last me until I got home.
Sure, the whole thing is not recommended. You'll never find a doctor or Minimed representative suggesting this technique. And, in fact, I would never recommend the technique. It was plain silly of me to have forgotten to fill my reservoir before I headed off to work. But, sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.
Thing is, diabetics have to do this kind of thing all the time. You are living your life daily with a disease that is unpredictable, being controlled by humans who are even more unpredictable.
Of course, my insurance company refuses to pay for enough insulin to allow me to keep a spare vial anywhere. They will only cover precisely the amount I need. I guess they fear I'm going to sell any extra on the black market or something. Sigh.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
It Ain't Easy
I've been dutifully exercising at the fitness center since mid-January, and for the past couple months, actually going five days a week. I've improved my strength tremendously, such as going from being able to leg press 130 lbs (10 reps) to leg pressing 230 lbs (10 reps). I can even do bicep curls of 25 lbs (10 reps), up from 10 lbs when I started.
I'd give myself a pat on the back, except that one of my main areas of weakness hasn't really improved much at all. Flexibility. I still can't touch my toes. (Well, I can...but only if I go really really fast, which, after the ripping sound it made in the back of my leg, I figured isn't such a good idea.) I also found that there comes a point where you plateau.
I should be proud of myself for reaching a plateau. I had read about the elusive concept in the past, but never really knew what it was like. But here I am...on a plateau. Because, try as I might...those strength numbers stopped improving about two months ago.
Worse yet, if I miss a couple days, or have a long weakend...err, I mean weekend...I find that I've actually gone backwards, and the following week is spent making up for what I lost.
I'm not at all sorry about this, however. I'm far more in shape now than 6 months ago. Even my wife can tell the difference. I like being able to move furniture and do various heavy-labor tasks that, before, wore me out. I like the fact that my pants, which in recent years had to be upgraded from a size 32 waist to a size 33, is actually a bit loose-fitting now. I can use the third hole instead of the second hole on my belt. I can even see my...uh, mini-me...when I look down, without having to suck in my stomach.
But despite the positives, what I'm realizing is that I'm not in my twenties any more. Okay, yeah. I knew that. But I didn't realize just how much those ten years can change you. You have to work at keeping in shape, where before, it seemed almost natural. They say that, once a man hits 30, his testosterone levels begin to drop. Testosterone helps build and maintain muscle mass. (Evidently, it also means greater risk for testicular cancer, so loss of testosterone isn't all bad.) So, now, to maintain, or even gain, muscle mass takes serious effort on my part.
When I started out, I had dreams of having arms the size of my thighs, and thighs the size of...well, something bigger than my thighs. I had dreams of seeing very distinct muscular lines covering my abs. But, I'm afraid, I'm no where near that. I still have a gut that sticks out (just not as far as before), and I still get winded climbing up the second flight of stairs at work.
I'm a diabetic. I have been for 25 years now. If there is one thing I'm constantly aware of, its that the disease is silently trying to damage me. I won't give in without a fight, however. Eating my oatmeal is no longer good enough. Gotta work at staying healthy, so that I can live well beyond 55 years old, which was the life expectancy of a Type 1 diabetic when I was diagnosed. I'll hit 80 if it kills me! (And, after a mile on the treadmill, it sometimes feels like it just might!)
I'd give myself a pat on the back, except that one of my main areas of weakness hasn't really improved much at all. Flexibility. I still can't touch my toes. (Well, I can...but only if I go really really fast, which, after the ripping sound it made in the back of my leg, I figured isn't such a good idea.) I also found that there comes a point where you plateau.
I should be proud of myself for reaching a plateau. I had read about the elusive concept in the past, but never really knew what it was like. But here I am...on a plateau. Because, try as I might...those strength numbers stopped improving about two months ago.
Worse yet, if I miss a couple days, or have a long weakend...err, I mean weekend...I find that I've actually gone backwards, and the following week is spent making up for what I lost.
I'm not at all sorry about this, however. I'm far more in shape now than 6 months ago. Even my wife can tell the difference. I like being able to move furniture and do various heavy-labor tasks that, before, wore me out. I like the fact that my pants, which in recent years had to be upgraded from a size 32 waist to a size 33, is actually a bit loose-fitting now. I can use the third hole instead of the second hole on my belt. I can even see my...uh, mini-me...when I look down, without having to suck in my stomach.
But despite the positives, what I'm realizing is that I'm not in my twenties any more. Okay, yeah. I knew that. But I didn't realize just how much those ten years can change you. You have to work at keeping in shape, where before, it seemed almost natural. They say that, once a man hits 30, his testosterone levels begin to drop. Testosterone helps build and maintain muscle mass. (Evidently, it also means greater risk for testicular cancer, so loss of testosterone isn't all bad.) So, now, to maintain, or even gain, muscle mass takes serious effort on my part.
When I started out, I had dreams of having arms the size of my thighs, and thighs the size of...well, something bigger than my thighs. I had dreams of seeing very distinct muscular lines covering my abs. But, I'm afraid, I'm no where near that. I still have a gut that sticks out (just not as far as before), and I still get winded climbing up the second flight of stairs at work.
I'm a diabetic. I have been for 25 years now. If there is one thing I'm constantly aware of, its that the disease is silently trying to damage me. I won't give in without a fight, however. Eating my oatmeal is no longer good enough. Gotta work at staying healthy, so that I can live well beyond 55 years old, which was the life expectancy of a Type 1 diabetic when I was diagnosed. I'll hit 80 if it kills me! (And, after a mile on the treadmill, it sometimes feels like it just might!)
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Guilt Over Something Silly
I read this article today, which reminded me of an event from my childhood that still triggers a tinge of guilt.
See, like so many kids before me, I had sent off balloons with notes hoping to gain a pen-pal in some far-off locale. Nothing ever came of them.
So, a friend of mine and I decided to up the ante. We wrote a note promising $500 to the person who found this note tied to a balloon and replied. We watched excitedly as the balloon rose higher and higher into the sky and eventually vanished out of sight...and after all of 15 minutes, out of mind.
But, flash forward several weeks later, and I had received a letter in the mail from a man requesting his $500. From Vermont. (We sent off our balloon in Michigan.)
And so this is where the guilt comes in. Because honestly, we never imagined anyone would ever find the note, let alone take it seriously. But this man did, and expected payment. How horribly disappointing it must have been for him when we had to reply back telling him that we were just a couple of kids. In a vain attempt at humor, we included a $500 bill in Monopoly money, but I can't help but wonder how he must have felt, thinking he won some real money, only to find out later it was just a joke.
Funny how we can hold on to something like that and still feel guilty about it years later. I think it is because unlike real life where we may cause damage, but ultimately ask for forgiveness or know it is okay...in this case, there is no such opportunity. No way of knowing if the person was angry about it.
And how much is life like that? Asking for forgiveness is a powerful thing. Receiving it is even more powerful.
See, like so many kids before me, I had sent off balloons with notes hoping to gain a pen-pal in some far-off locale. Nothing ever came of them.
So, a friend of mine and I decided to up the ante. We wrote a note promising $500 to the person who found this note tied to a balloon and replied. We watched excitedly as the balloon rose higher and higher into the sky and eventually vanished out of sight...and after all of 15 minutes, out of mind.
But, flash forward several weeks later, and I had received a letter in the mail from a man requesting his $500. From Vermont. (We sent off our balloon in Michigan.)
And so this is where the guilt comes in. Because honestly, we never imagined anyone would ever find the note, let alone take it seriously. But this man did, and expected payment. How horribly disappointing it must have been for him when we had to reply back telling him that we were just a couple of kids. In a vain attempt at humor, we included a $500 bill in Monopoly money, but I can't help but wonder how he must have felt, thinking he won some real money, only to find out later it was just a joke.
Funny how we can hold on to something like that and still feel guilty about it years later. I think it is because unlike real life where we may cause damage, but ultimately ask for forgiveness or know it is okay...in this case, there is no such opportunity. No way of knowing if the person was angry about it.
And how much is life like that? Asking for forgiveness is a powerful thing. Receiving it is even more powerful.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Obsession to Win
I'm not much of a sport fan. Okay. "Not much" really means not at all. But I haven't been able to help but follow some of the Tour de France doping scandal with Floyd Landis. The whole situation is just one sadness upon another. And in the end, I can't help but realize that it all comes down to an obsession to win.
I don't know if Landis is guilty or not. Probably only Landis knows that with any certainty. But if Landis is telling the truth, and there was no doping involved, you have to feel sorry for the amount of turmoil he has gone through to defend his name and championship.
If Landis is lying, it is amazing to see what lengths someone will go to in order to avoid ruining their reputation, even if that ruined reputation is the result of their own misbehavior.
If Landis is lying, though, I can't judge him. Neither can you. Because every one of us is guilty of something. In the words of Gregory House, from TV's House, M.D., "everyone lies." Perhaps that's true. But what is even more true is the fact that not a single one of us goes through life without making mistakes, without messing up, without committing sins against ourselves and those around us.
If Landis is lying, what right do I have to condemn him? For that matter, what right do I have to condemn anyone who has made mistakes and tried to cover them up?
Anyhow, there is an obsession to win. To be on top at all costs. And despite the platitude that winning isn't everything, when it comes down to professional sports...winning is everything. Athletes risk their careers to dope just so that they have a chance to make it to the top. Athletes who are on top are found having to defend that position for their rest of their lives. Lance Armstrong still faces allegations of doping, for example.
What it seems is the issue isn't so much about the doping itself, but the need to dope to begin with. Something has instilled this obsession to win to the point that doping seems a necessary evil, yet at the same time, kept under the covers.
Then I look, again, to myself. What do I have under the covers in my life? What is it that makes me feel the need to be on top of my game? Or, rather (and more importantly), to give the appearance I'm on top of my game? What makes it seem impossible for me to be honest and up front and say, "Wow, I messed up big time," or, "You know what? I'm not nearly as good as I thought I was." This is honesty--something far more admirable than winning in a person. Only, honesty doesn't win you medals, or higher pay, or fame and fortune. At least, not directly. But at the end of the day, do I want to look like a winner, and then spend the rest of my life defending that title? Or do I want to live a life of honesty, where the need to defend myself is moot?
There is only one standard of perfection. I'm not it.
I don't know if Landis is guilty or not. Probably only Landis knows that with any certainty. But if Landis is telling the truth, and there was no doping involved, you have to feel sorry for the amount of turmoil he has gone through to defend his name and championship.
If Landis is lying, it is amazing to see what lengths someone will go to in order to avoid ruining their reputation, even if that ruined reputation is the result of their own misbehavior.
If Landis is lying, though, I can't judge him. Neither can you. Because every one of us is guilty of something. In the words of Gregory House, from TV's House, M.D., "everyone lies." Perhaps that's true. But what is even more true is the fact that not a single one of us goes through life without making mistakes, without messing up, without committing sins against ourselves and those around us.
If Landis is lying, what right do I have to condemn him? For that matter, what right do I have to condemn anyone who has made mistakes and tried to cover them up?
Anyhow, there is an obsession to win. To be on top at all costs. And despite the platitude that winning isn't everything, when it comes down to professional sports...winning is everything. Athletes risk their careers to dope just so that they have a chance to make it to the top. Athletes who are on top are found having to defend that position for their rest of their lives. Lance Armstrong still faces allegations of doping, for example.
What it seems is the issue isn't so much about the doping itself, but the need to dope to begin with. Something has instilled this obsession to win to the point that doping seems a necessary evil, yet at the same time, kept under the covers.
Then I look, again, to myself. What do I have under the covers in my life? What is it that makes me feel the need to be on top of my game? Or, rather (and more importantly), to give the appearance I'm on top of my game? What makes it seem impossible for me to be honest and up front and say, "Wow, I messed up big time," or, "You know what? I'm not nearly as good as I thought I was." This is honesty--something far more admirable than winning in a person. Only, honesty doesn't win you medals, or higher pay, or fame and fortune. At least, not directly. But at the end of the day, do I want to look like a winner, and then spend the rest of my life defending that title? Or do I want to live a life of honesty, where the need to defend myself is moot?
There is only one standard of perfection. I'm not it.
Monday, May 14, 2007
The Way They Used To Be
Ah, the good old days. Do you remember them? When you would load a web page, and it was a mish-mash of text and images, and that's it. Okay, maybe a cute little animated icon every once in a while. But the web was safe and comfortable back then. Leisurely.
As of late, I'm becoming more and more disgruntled with websites, no thanks to Podcasts and YouTube and Flash-based sites.
See, what was so great about the web is that you could click on a link and browse a site at your own pace. You could skim articles if you were in a hurry, or take your time and read over the course of a few visits. You were in control, and that was what set it apart from television. Sure, you have been able to record shows off the television for years, but ultimately, the pace was dictated by the format. The web offered freedom!
But today, that is becoming less and less the case. Take the Podcast. Somebody had this great idea of making an audio recording of something that you could download and play on your PC or iPod or whatever. Great. Except that in the time that it takes to download and listen to the file, I could have easily read through the article in text format twice. It turns what is simply my ability to read at my own pace to forcing me to listen at their pace...and ultimately listen by way of speakers or headphones, limiting the times and places I can take advantage of the information.
There is a particularly interesting sounding Podcast on a website that I'm really interested it. But the format has kept me from listening to a single episode, and they don't bother ever posting a transcript, which is all I really care about.
On-line videos are another annoyance of mine, for similar reasons. I just don't have the patience (or time) to sit and watch something to learn something I could get in another format. Okay, I don't have a problem with downloadable video in general...just not when I have no option for information another way. YouTube is primarily about entertainment. I get that. But why must I only be allowed to view certain news items on news sites such as MSNBC if I'm willing to watch a video? Kind of defeats the whole advantage of the web.
And don't even get me started on Flash-based sites. Those annoying websites with cleverly-laid-out graphics and animations that ultimately keep me from getting to the information I want at the pace I want it. Instead, I have to hold my mouse over a little picture, have it whirl around, doing acrobatics on my screen, eventually landing me to another graphic with limited information that forces me to repeat the process.
There is a tendency to use technology for the sake of using it, rather than using it because it is ultimately the best way to accomplish something. The web is ripe with sites that abuse that. Just because we are able to download videos now at blazingly-fast speeds doesn't mean we want to. Maybe we just want to be able to read the news. The 21st century version of the newspaper...a format that has worked for a couple centuries, actually.
I preferred the good old days of web surfing. I think I'm becoming an old-fogy. But more and more, I like things the way they used to be.
As of late, I'm becoming more and more disgruntled with websites, no thanks to Podcasts and YouTube and Flash-based sites.
See, what was so great about the web is that you could click on a link and browse a site at your own pace. You could skim articles if you were in a hurry, or take your time and read over the course of a few visits. You were in control, and that was what set it apart from television. Sure, you have been able to record shows off the television for years, but ultimately, the pace was dictated by the format. The web offered freedom!
But today, that is becoming less and less the case. Take the Podcast. Somebody had this great idea of making an audio recording of something that you could download and play on your PC or iPod or whatever. Great. Except that in the time that it takes to download and listen to the file, I could have easily read through the article in text format twice. It turns what is simply my ability to read at my own pace to forcing me to listen at their pace...and ultimately listen by way of speakers or headphones, limiting the times and places I can take advantage of the information.
There is a particularly interesting sounding Podcast on a website that I'm really interested it. But the format has kept me from listening to a single episode, and they don't bother ever posting a transcript, which is all I really care about.
On-line videos are another annoyance of mine, for similar reasons. I just don't have the patience (or time) to sit and watch something to learn something I could get in another format. Okay, I don't have a problem with downloadable video in general...just not when I have no option for information another way. YouTube is primarily about entertainment. I get that. But why must I only be allowed to view certain news items on news sites such as MSNBC if I'm willing to watch a video? Kind of defeats the whole advantage of the web.
And don't even get me started on Flash-based sites. Those annoying websites with cleverly-laid-out graphics and animations that ultimately keep me from getting to the information I want at the pace I want it. Instead, I have to hold my mouse over a little picture, have it whirl around, doing acrobatics on my screen, eventually landing me to another graphic with limited information that forces me to repeat the process.
There is a tendency to use technology for the sake of using it, rather than using it because it is ultimately the best way to accomplish something. The web is ripe with sites that abuse that. Just because we are able to download videos now at blazingly-fast speeds doesn't mean we want to. Maybe we just want to be able to read the news. The 21st century version of the newspaper...a format that has worked for a couple centuries, actually.
I preferred the good old days of web surfing. I think I'm becoming an old-fogy. But more and more, I like things the way they used to be.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Peanut Butter, Parenting, and Pumping Up
Well, my three-day weekend with the kids went really well, and I even managed to have a good time and keep the house in decent shape. Admittedly, by Sunday afternoon, I was exhausted. I'm not used to doing so many activities. Let's see. We went to the playground on Friday. A huge wooden play structure where I had to stand up on this tower perch to see all my kids easily. I just couldn't keep up! We also ran a bunch of errands that I figured would take the whole weekend...but didn't.
Saturday, we went to a different playground...this one smaller, where I could actually follow them around. Later, we took a bike ride, with me toting my youngest two in the bike trailer. At the end of the day we tried to do some kite flying, but the wind had died down too much.
Sunday, after church, we headed to the park to fly the kite. Did that for about an hour.
All in all, though, an enjoyable weekend with my kids.
On to other things...two of my kids are allergic to peanuts. From the time my oldest boy was one, we've pretty much been a peanut-butter free household. That is sad for me, because I lived on peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. So, yesterday, I did something new. I bought myself some peanut butter, jelly, and bread and brought it in to work with me. Wow! Have I missed PB&J! (And for the record, it has to be Simply Jif. Not regular Jif, not off-brand, not Peter Pan brand. Simply Jif is simply the best!)
An exercise update. Since I started in January, I have to say I haven't really had much problem with exercise affecting my Blood Glucose Levels. In fact, in the past four months, I think I've only had two exercise-induced lows. And in the meantime, my strength has improved dramatically. I've even started doing some Cardio about 4 days a week. I kind of look forward to the exercise now. (No, no. Really, I do. I'm not just saying that.)
And in final news, over the weekend my blog just crossed over to 20,000 views since I started it. Pretty cool.
Saturday, we went to a different playground...this one smaller, where I could actually follow them around. Later, we took a bike ride, with me toting my youngest two in the bike trailer. At the end of the day we tried to do some kite flying, but the wind had died down too much.
Sunday, after church, we headed to the park to fly the kite. Did that for about an hour.
All in all, though, an enjoyable weekend with my kids.
On to other things...two of my kids are allergic to peanuts. From the time my oldest boy was one, we've pretty much been a peanut-butter free household. That is sad for me, because I lived on peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. So, yesterday, I did something new. I bought myself some peanut butter, jelly, and bread and brought it in to work with me. Wow! Have I missed PB&J! (And for the record, it has to be Simply Jif. Not regular Jif, not off-brand, not Peter Pan brand. Simply Jif is simply the best!)
An exercise update. Since I started in January, I have to say I haven't really had much problem with exercise affecting my Blood Glucose Levels. In fact, in the past four months, I think I've only had two exercise-induced lows. And in the meantime, my strength has improved dramatically. I've even started doing some Cardio about 4 days a week. I kind of look forward to the exercise now. (No, no. Really, I do. I'm not just saying that.)
And in final news, over the weekend my blog just crossed over to 20,000 views since I started it. Pretty cool.
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