1. A Tip o' the Hat
A couple of visits ago, I left my Team Ortho baseball cap behind at the M. Giant household. I got it a little less than two years ago, when I shadowed an ortho surgeon friend of mine. Before the scrubbing-in part of the day was the setting-down-my-stuff part of the day, so we started in the doctors' tiny offices. One of my friend's office-mates is the guy who is in charge of recruiting for the "team," which is a combination fundraising and public outreach entity. Every Ironman event and triathlon within a few hundred miles usually has a Team Ortho contingent, in snazzy blue and white bullseye jerseys. The recruiter guy introduced himself, and pretty much right after "hello" was "you look like a Medium." This confused me, until I was thrown a free shirt and the aforementioned ball cap -- all I had to in return do was promise to check my calendar for good times for me to swim, run, or bike a great distance longer than I otherwise would, or realistically could. I checked. I checked twice, in fact. There were none.
Last time I was down at the Giant homestead, I inquired about the hat, and MG said, "oh... that was yours?" It seems M. Small has adopted it into his compendium of random cool stuff. This is a kid who can derive hours of enjoyment from the plastic spindle-thingy that outdoor Xmas lights are strung on, and so it's a pretty good compliment. Besides, maybe he'll be a triathlete someday, and at the very least he can spread the public awareness. People notice stuff on adorable moppets in a way they don't, on surly Nordic ER techs. So, seeing as how my hat is in a better place now, I switched to the ball cap I had stashed in the closet: the NASA one.
This one I got at the Kennedy Space Center, in Florida, when Teslagrl and I went down there later that same year. I am something of a space freak. The rocket garden, with its recreated shells of Atlases and Saturns, command modules, and a LEM you can crawl around in was like holy ground to me. I got a little choked up at the recreation of the Apollo 11 launch. Ron Howard can make crappy movies the rest of his life and Apollo 13 will still be on my top 10 all-time list.
And today, at work, I discovered the NASA hat has ironic hipster cache now, too. A co-worker asked me, "where's your diaper?" Heh heh. Thanks, love-crazy astronaut! You've made space cool again... kind of.
2. Guitar Anti-Hero
I hate this kid. Eight years old, and he pwns a song on Expert I can barely handle on 'Hard.' I got to see the original Star Wars in the theater 13 times, though, so nyaaah. I'd love to say the video is somehow faked, but that would be sour grapes on my part.
3. This is why they invented the Internet
Speaking of YouTube, I guess last year's most fun video is this year's most kickass meme. I guess I really am growing up, if high school kids actually look somewhat cool for even a minute.
4. This week's medical mystery
So, the kid with the five-week case of hiccups finally got relief? Awesome. And although there was no story as such, Friday's Strib had a little blurb that said the 15-year-old was crediting a chiropractor, an acupuncturist, and a hypnotist (more about that, in the link above). Sure, fine, cool. No love for the medical establishment. We're used to it; we don't need outpourings of gratitude. Besides, it's not like the establishment has weird ideas about curing intractable hiccups... like, say... digital rectal massage.
Yessir, nothing balances the q'ui, aligns the shakras, or increases the flow of your positive energymeridians like the old fashioned gloved digit up the ol' pooper. It's peer-reviewed Western medical journals, baby. Read it and weep. Some days, the Q-ray bracelet has nothing on our side. Those are fun days.
And if I ever have hiccups lasting that long, and it turns out the "intern year salute" is what brings them to an end, I'll probably credit something else, my own damn self. That, or just smirk mischeviously at Katie Couric when she asks me about it...