Friday is trash day in my neighborhood. One day a week, every week, that big green truck rumbles down the 7-mile gravel road to collect the things we no longer need. The hydraulic arm whistles and the engine rumbles as a weeks worth of trash, excess debris, abandoned and disregarded items are transferred from the dumpster to the truck and then on down the road to the county landfill. Just like that, the oddments of our lives are gone.
I have been a packrat most of my life. There are things I have that once served a very valuable purpose, but they no longer really do. Yet I hold onto them anyway. There may be a day when I need that one particular thing even though I have not even thought of it for years. I just know, the day I throw it out, the next day I will need it.
I am working on changing that. I don’t need to hold onto those things anymore. Except for those with the highest sentimental value and of course some of those clothes that if you wait long enough, they will be back in style.
I have even been cleaning off my desk on a regular basis. Prompted by Kevin’s urging, but also in my own effort to keep a clutter free work space. Clutter in the physical environment can create clutter in the emotional well being of a person, too. So say the experts, which of course I am not.
Life is too short, my friend Lurechi posted on this blog. And I agree. Life is too short to be worried about the clutter, excess debris and disregarded items of our lives. And with recent developments in my life, one of them was learning about my melanoma, I am constantly reminded to live in the moment, and don’t sweat the small stuff, don't look back and keep looking forward. Even the stuff that stinks today will dissipate and be just a memory tomorrow.
It is Friday. I have taken out the trash. The sun is shining and as JavaQueen says, I plan to go out and enjoy.
Laugh insanely, love truly and forgive quickly.
Have a great weekend.
Peace.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Fight or flight
When I was in my 20s I went to a wedding reception held at Ice Cracking Lodge near Perham. Along with me were some of my best friends, my cousins and my sister. Our group had basically grown up together spending summers at the cabin on Round Lake. We were all very good friends.
During the dance, I was approached by a guy with whom I had little interest. He wanted to dance. I did not. I asked him to leave. He was relentless and continued to annoy me and started really talking trash until I had had enough. I threw my beer in his face. It was fight or flight.
His buddies jumped over the table to come to his rescue. My friends and family jumped in the mix as well, including my sister. We chose to fight.
It was a hot summer night. These were wrestlers and hockey players combined with a couple of gymnasts. Use your imagination. It wasn’t very long before chairs started flying. We all knew the owner of the little resort lodge and he politely asked us to knock it off before he called the sheriff. He may have blasted a couple rounds from his rifle into the air as an exclamation point.
We got the message. While tempers were still hot and many of the guys were wiping up bloody noses and ears the bartender poured more beer. No charges were ever filed.
So what started that fight? Was it the guy who was bugging me? Or me who threw the beer? Or the guy who threw the first punch? Does it really matter? What we did, what I did, wasn’t right. But I am not going to say I would never do it again, either. If provoked, I just might. And if my sister or any of my cousins or friends need me to toss a beer for them, I can’t say I wouldn’t do it. Was that dude right to harass me? Absolutely not. But do two wrongs make a right?
Still, it is human nature. Fight or flight. We all reacted to a situation with instincts — gut reactions. Not unlike coming to the aid of a spouse with the intent to protect.
We are all born with this instinct. The autonomic nervous system is divided into two parts: the sympathetic system, referred to as the fight-or-flight response, and the parasympathetic, referred to as the relaxation response. Fight or flight has been engraved into our souls since the beginning of time. It was essential for survival at one point in world history and sometimes, it still is.
The Tramms were not on trial last week. Who started the fight and how, was irrelevant to the charges of assaulting a peace officer. I apologized to Denna when she called me and I printed a correction. Should she and her sister have filed charges for sexual harassment against the dude from the dance floor? Only those girls have the answer to that. But the reality is they didn’t file charges. Like the 1,000s of incidents of sexual harasment and sexual assault that go unreported every day.
As for the comments on why I didn’t mention allegations of police misconduct? Simple again. The officers were not on trial. The fact that complaints against the officers have been reported has been mentioned in previous articles published in the Messenger. Also mentioned in the Messenger was that several agencies turned down the request to investigate those allegations and that the taxpayers of the city of Isle are now paying thousands of dollars to an outside investigation firm to do the investigation. All of this is irrelevant to the trial on the charges of assaulting a peace officer.
There were nearly four days of testimony during that trial from nearly 20 different people. I heard a lovely romance story of two people who met and fell in love, have been married for 30 years, both seem to be good people and care about the town where they live. I heard hours of testimony from the other witnesses as well. There is no way I could write even one blurb from every witness.
As to the question of the involvement of alcohol there was only one person who testified they drank only Diet Pepsi that day. Those who admitted they were drinking said phrases like, "I had a couple," “5 beers, maybe,” “Maybe 7 or 8,” “I don’t count,” “I’m a beer drinker.” The incident happened in the beer garden after selling 29 kegs of beer. So was alcohol involved? Hmmm ... Let me think.
My intent was to summarize a very lengthy trial to the best of my ability. I have re-read my notes several times since then. I stand by my notes. The mayor was found not guilty. There was celebration at the local pub with champagne after the trial. The story should be over. Why is the fight or flight mechanism still activated? Maybe we should engage the other half of our instincts — the parasympathetic system, and relax.
During the dance, I was approached by a guy with whom I had little interest. He wanted to dance. I did not. I asked him to leave. He was relentless and continued to annoy me and started really talking trash until I had had enough. I threw my beer in his face. It was fight or flight.
His buddies jumped over the table to come to his rescue. My friends and family jumped in the mix as well, including my sister. We chose to fight.
It was a hot summer night. These were wrestlers and hockey players combined with a couple of gymnasts. Use your imagination. It wasn’t very long before chairs started flying. We all knew the owner of the little resort lodge and he politely asked us to knock it off before he called the sheriff. He may have blasted a couple rounds from his rifle into the air as an exclamation point.
We got the message. While tempers were still hot and many of the guys were wiping up bloody noses and ears the bartender poured more beer. No charges were ever filed.
So what started that fight? Was it the guy who was bugging me? Or me who threw the beer? Or the guy who threw the first punch? Does it really matter? What we did, what I did, wasn’t right. But I am not going to say I would never do it again, either. If provoked, I just might. And if my sister or any of my cousins or friends need me to toss a beer for them, I can’t say I wouldn’t do it. Was that dude right to harass me? Absolutely not. But do two wrongs make a right?
Still, it is human nature. Fight or flight. We all reacted to a situation with instincts — gut reactions. Not unlike coming to the aid of a spouse with the intent to protect.
We are all born with this instinct. The autonomic nervous system is divided into two parts: the sympathetic system, referred to as the fight-or-flight response, and the parasympathetic, referred to as the relaxation response. Fight or flight has been engraved into our souls since the beginning of time. It was essential for survival at one point in world history and sometimes, it still is.
The Tramms were not on trial last week. Who started the fight and how, was irrelevant to the charges of assaulting a peace officer. I apologized to Denna when she called me and I printed a correction. Should she and her sister have filed charges for sexual harassment against the dude from the dance floor? Only those girls have the answer to that. But the reality is they didn’t file charges. Like the 1,000s of incidents of sexual harasment and sexual assault that go unreported every day.
As for the comments on why I didn’t mention allegations of police misconduct? Simple again. The officers were not on trial. The fact that complaints against the officers have been reported has been mentioned in previous articles published in the Messenger. Also mentioned in the Messenger was that several agencies turned down the request to investigate those allegations and that the taxpayers of the city of Isle are now paying thousands of dollars to an outside investigation firm to do the investigation. All of this is irrelevant to the trial on the charges of assaulting a peace officer.
There were nearly four days of testimony during that trial from nearly 20 different people. I heard a lovely romance story of two people who met and fell in love, have been married for 30 years, both seem to be good people and care about the town where they live. I heard hours of testimony from the other witnesses as well. There is no way I could write even one blurb from every witness.
As to the question of the involvement of alcohol there was only one person who testified they drank only Diet Pepsi that day. Those who admitted they were drinking said phrases like, "I had a couple," “5 beers, maybe,” “Maybe 7 or 8,” “I don’t count,” “I’m a beer drinker.” The incident happened in the beer garden after selling 29 kegs of beer. So was alcohol involved? Hmmm ... Let me think.
My intent was to summarize a very lengthy trial to the best of my ability. I have re-read my notes several times since then. I stand by my notes. The mayor was found not guilty. There was celebration at the local pub with champagne after the trial. The story should be over. Why is the fight or flight mechanism still activated? Maybe we should engage the other half of our instincts — the parasympathetic system, and relax.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I believe I can fly
On my 25th birthday I jumped out of an airplane for the first time. It was amazing. Although it was a long time ago, I can still remember exactly what it felt like.
Simply put, it was a mixed bag of emotions. First was fear. But not the fear like you know there is a monster under the bed. It was the fear of the unknown.
Then there were the what if's? What if the chute doesn’t open? What if I scream like a girl or sweat like a boy? The words from the attorney early that day rang in my ears. He made me sign a waiver as he was saying, “Do you realize by the end of the day today, you could die?”
Anxiety was huge. My heart was pounding in my chest like a tympani drum echoing through my head. Adrenaline was flowing through my veins and I could feel every vessel pumped.
Half-dozen of the Minnesota Gopher football team was on that plane. I felt so small tucked in a hole next to the pilot, who said with a strange grin, “We throw the big guys out first to see where they will land.”
They hooted all the way out and not one of them chickened out. Nor would I.
I climbed out onto the wind, saying a prayer.
I closed my eyes. I let go.
There was a small technical problem, (its called a bundle of crap) but I fixed it and the chute opened.
And then ... (pause) it was me ... and God. And together I felt like I could do anything.
As I was resting in the palm of His hand floating effortlessly in the sky with an almost fully inflated parachute, I had a feeling of overwhelming peace. I did not ever want to land.
But, land I did, which brought overwhelming feelings of confidence. I was empowered. I could do anything. I was laughing and screaming and I wanted to do it again. That was a natural high I will never forget. I held onto that feeling for several weeks actually. With nearly every step, I felt again and again that it is just me and God. And I can do anything.
I saw my surgeon today. I felt very positive energy going into the office. My blood pressure was good and nurse Jan was smiling.
The doc. said, the biopsy came back and all the margins were clear. There is nothing there. The bad cancer cells have been removed.
I still have to see the oncologist and have an all over body scan and mapping of my moles, but the lab results are clear and that is good.
What a day I had left behind.
Driving from Brainerd to Isle on this 40-degree sunshiny day, I had the windows in my Jeep open. My hair was blowing in my face. The Corrs celtic beat blasting my favorite summertime tunes on my stereo.
And again, it was just me and God. And I can do anything.
Simply put, it was a mixed bag of emotions. First was fear. But not the fear like you know there is a monster under the bed. It was the fear of the unknown.
Then there were the what if's? What if the chute doesn’t open? What if I scream like a girl or sweat like a boy? The words from the attorney early that day rang in my ears. He made me sign a waiver as he was saying, “Do you realize by the end of the day today, you could die?”
Anxiety was huge. My heart was pounding in my chest like a tympani drum echoing through my head. Adrenaline was flowing through my veins and I could feel every vessel pumped.
Half-dozen of the Minnesota Gopher football team was on that plane. I felt so small tucked in a hole next to the pilot, who said with a strange grin, “We throw the big guys out first to see where they will land.”
They hooted all the way out and not one of them chickened out. Nor would I.
I climbed out onto the wind, saying a prayer.
I closed my eyes. I let go.
There was a small technical problem, (its called a bundle of crap) but I fixed it and the chute opened.
And then ... (pause) it was me ... and God. And together I felt like I could do anything.
As I was resting in the palm of His hand floating effortlessly in the sky with an almost fully inflated parachute, I had a feeling of overwhelming peace. I did not ever want to land.
But, land I did, which brought overwhelming feelings of confidence. I was empowered. I could do anything. I was laughing and screaming and I wanted to do it again. That was a natural high I will never forget. I held onto that feeling for several weeks actually. With nearly every step, I felt again and again that it is just me and God. And I can do anything.
I saw my surgeon today. I felt very positive energy going into the office. My blood pressure was good and nurse Jan was smiling.
The doc. said, the biopsy came back and all the margins were clear. There is nothing there. The bad cancer cells have been removed.
I still have to see the oncologist and have an all over body scan and mapping of my moles, but the lab results are clear and that is good.
What a day I had left behind.
Driving from Brainerd to Isle on this 40-degree sunshiny day, I had the windows in my Jeep open. My hair was blowing in my face. The Corrs celtic beat blasting my favorite summertime tunes on my stereo.
And again, it was just me and God. And I can do anything.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Justice, law and order
“Law is not justice and a trial is not a scientific inquiry into truth. A trial is the resolution of a dispute.” ~Edison Haines
It was a long week for Isle Mayor Mike DeCoursey last week. He was on trial on felony charges of assaulting a police officer.
The jury said they believed he was defending his wife at the time of the altercation between he and Isanty County Deputy Sean Connolly. They made no mention as to whether or not they believed he actually assaulted Officer Connolly or not. They held firm to the belief it was self defense and a technicality.
Just for fun, let’s compare a similar case.
An incident occurred in Minneapolis outside the Block E Hooters last May. Two men from Cedar Falls, Iowa, Tanner McCormack, 29, and Tyler McCormack, 23, and a couple dozen of their friends were in town for an all-day bachelor party. Tanner McCormack was asked by the Hooters manager to leave because he was drunk, according to the Star Tribune.
That night a Minneapolis police officer, James Lynch, was off duty, but in uniform, working as Block E security. A security video shows Lynch and the McCormack brothers in a fight which ended with Tanner McCormack arrested, the Tribune says.
The defense attorneys said Lynch started the fight because one of the brothers called him fat. So one brother was defending the other brother. Defense attorney argued her client saw an officer out of control and tried to intervene. The defense team also said Lynch was off duty so the brothers could not be guilty of assaulting a police officer. To be a police officer at that moment, Lynch would have had to witness a crime in process and that no crime was committed, according to the defense attorney.
The prosecutors said the McCormack brothers were looking for a fight that evening and any action by Lynch was an attempt to get the brothers away from him. In his closing argument, Assistant Hennepin County Attorney Dan Allard said, “Sometimes things are just what they seem,” asking the jury not to fall for the self-defense claim.
The jurors viewed the video tape over 20 times. They deliberated for over two days and sent many questions back to the court. In the end, they were hung. The jury of six men and six women could not unanimously decide who was right and who was wrong.
Prosecutors intend to retry the case.
The jury for the DeCoursey trial decided within two hours they believed the defense attorney’s closing argument. In that argument he said whether they, the jury, believed DeCoursey punched Connolly or not was not the issue. It was self defense — coming to the aid of his wife and that Connolly was off duty. In the end, that is what the jury believed. DeCoursey was found not guilty of assaulting a police officer or obstructing justice.
The DeCoursey case has many similarities to the McCormack brothers case. There was a lot of drinking going on. Somebody was looking for a fight. Somebody found one. And somebody got hurt. In both cases, it was a police officer.
Both cases involved off duty police officers. Both were wearing uniforms.
This is the kicker for me. Set aside the childish cry of “he hit me first.”
Are we not taught from an early age to respect police officers? Are they not on the streets to protect and to serve? If we cannot trust our police officers — whether on duty or off — to protect us from dudes looking for a fight, who are we going to trust when there is a fight? Who are we going to trust when a child is missing? A parent is in an accident? Our kid’s school is threatened by a maniac?
Would you care if the officers coming to your aid in these situations were on duty or off?
That should be irrelevant. The simple fact is that citizens cannot go around hitting, punching, pushing, spitting or throwing feces at police officers. Period.
Who is responsible for keeping the peace — for keeping order? If officers become afraid to do their job because they may be threatened with a law suit because of their actions while doing their job, who will keep the order then?
“Justice is incidental to law and order.” ~John Edgar Hoover
Where is the justice when the people hired to keep law and order cannot properly do their jobs?
Also during the trial a comment was made that should bother some people. The defense attorney, who was at one time a prosecutor — an Assistant Mille Lacs County Attorney no less — said “All cops lie.” I will blog about that next, because this one is just getting too long.
Stay tuned for more behind the scenes of the DeCoursey trial.
It was a long week for Isle Mayor Mike DeCoursey last week. He was on trial on felony charges of assaulting a police officer.
The jury said they believed he was defending his wife at the time of the altercation between he and Isanty County Deputy Sean Connolly. They made no mention as to whether or not they believed he actually assaulted Officer Connolly or not. They held firm to the belief it was self defense and a technicality.
Just for fun, let’s compare a similar case.
An incident occurred in Minneapolis outside the Block E Hooters last May. Two men from Cedar Falls, Iowa, Tanner McCormack, 29, and Tyler McCormack, 23, and a couple dozen of their friends were in town for an all-day bachelor party. Tanner McCormack was asked by the Hooters manager to leave because he was drunk, according to the Star Tribune.
That night a Minneapolis police officer, James Lynch, was off duty, but in uniform, working as Block E security. A security video shows Lynch and the McCormack brothers in a fight which ended with Tanner McCormack arrested, the Tribune says.
The defense attorneys said Lynch started the fight because one of the brothers called him fat. So one brother was defending the other brother. Defense attorney argued her client saw an officer out of control and tried to intervene. The defense team also said Lynch was off duty so the brothers could not be guilty of assaulting a police officer. To be a police officer at that moment, Lynch would have had to witness a crime in process and that no crime was committed, according to the defense attorney.
The prosecutors said the McCormack brothers were looking for a fight that evening and any action by Lynch was an attempt to get the brothers away from him. In his closing argument, Assistant Hennepin County Attorney Dan Allard said, “Sometimes things are just what they seem,” asking the jury not to fall for the self-defense claim.
The jurors viewed the video tape over 20 times. They deliberated for over two days and sent many questions back to the court. In the end, they were hung. The jury of six men and six women could not unanimously decide who was right and who was wrong.
Prosecutors intend to retry the case.
The jury for the DeCoursey trial decided within two hours they believed the defense attorney’s closing argument. In that argument he said whether they, the jury, believed DeCoursey punched Connolly or not was not the issue. It was self defense — coming to the aid of his wife and that Connolly was off duty. In the end, that is what the jury believed. DeCoursey was found not guilty of assaulting a police officer or obstructing justice.
The DeCoursey case has many similarities to the McCormack brothers case. There was a lot of drinking going on. Somebody was looking for a fight. Somebody found one. And somebody got hurt. In both cases, it was a police officer.
Both cases involved off duty police officers. Both were wearing uniforms.
This is the kicker for me. Set aside the childish cry of “he hit me first.”
Are we not taught from an early age to respect police officers? Are they not on the streets to protect and to serve? If we cannot trust our police officers — whether on duty or off — to protect us from dudes looking for a fight, who are we going to trust when there is a fight? Who are we going to trust when a child is missing? A parent is in an accident? Our kid’s school is threatened by a maniac?
Would you care if the officers coming to your aid in these situations were on duty or off?
That should be irrelevant. The simple fact is that citizens cannot go around hitting, punching, pushing, spitting or throwing feces at police officers. Period.
Who is responsible for keeping the peace — for keeping order? If officers become afraid to do their job because they may be threatened with a law suit because of their actions while doing their job, who will keep the order then?
“Justice is incidental to law and order.” ~John Edgar Hoover
Where is the justice when the people hired to keep law and order cannot properly do their jobs?
Also during the trial a comment was made that should bother some people. The defense attorney, who was at one time a prosecutor — an Assistant Mille Lacs County Attorney no less — said “All cops lie.” I will blog about that next, because this one is just getting too long.
Stay tuned for more behind the scenes of the DeCoursey trial.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
The vantage point
“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception.”
Aldous Huxley
People are unique and curious creatures. Consequently, everyone's perception of any given matter is inevitibly different. Remember the game played at baby showers where a tray of items is brought out for each guest to look at for say 30 seconds each. Then the tray is taken away and everyone is to write down exactly what is on the tray.
Some people will remember only one or two items. Some people remember all items in detail. Some people write down items that were not even on the tray to begin with, but they thought they should be because they would belong there.
The power of perception.
The same goes for witnesses testifying in a court room, while under oath to swear to tell the truth so help them, God. They may be testifying to the memory of what is in their mind to the best of their recollection. Or they may have a perception based on what someone else has told them about a certain situation. but, to the best of their recollection it is the truth so help them, God.
I have been in the court room listening to testimony on a jury trial for the last few days. The full article will appear in next weeks Messenger and posted on-line. No matter how many trials I listen to, and no matter what the charges are, this baby shower game is played out every time.
It is not just the items on the tray that are a variable to a trial. It is also the witnesses vantage point. Depending on what side of the tray one is standing may have an impact on what registers in the mind of a witness.
Even noises are perceived differently. Was the sound a thud or a bang? Was it quiet? Was it loud?
How about numbers. Was there a crowd? How many people make up a crowd anyway? Is it three or more or is it 10 or more?
Was it off to the side or in the middle?
Why is it one person can be struck by lightening and survive and another falls to the ground dead when stuck by lightening? Everybody is different and unique. One person may be left with bruises by bumping shin on a coffee table while another person will not have a mark after being hit by a Louisville Slugger.
Is the glass half full or half empty?
The power of perception is something to think about. I guess it is all in how you look at it.
“Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.”
Hans Margolius
Aldous Huxley
People are unique and curious creatures. Consequently, everyone's perception of any given matter is inevitibly different. Remember the game played at baby showers where a tray of items is brought out for each guest to look at for say 30 seconds each. Then the tray is taken away and everyone is to write down exactly what is on the tray.
Some people will remember only one or two items. Some people remember all items in detail. Some people write down items that were not even on the tray to begin with, but they thought they should be because they would belong there.
The power of perception.
The same goes for witnesses testifying in a court room, while under oath to swear to tell the truth so help them, God. They may be testifying to the memory of what is in their mind to the best of their recollection. Or they may have a perception based on what someone else has told them about a certain situation. but, to the best of their recollection it is the truth so help them, God.
I have been in the court room listening to testimony on a jury trial for the last few days. The full article will appear in next weeks Messenger and posted on-line. No matter how many trials I listen to, and no matter what the charges are, this baby shower game is played out every time.
It is not just the items on the tray that are a variable to a trial. It is also the witnesses vantage point. Depending on what side of the tray one is standing may have an impact on what registers in the mind of a witness.
Even noises are perceived differently. Was the sound a thud or a bang? Was it quiet? Was it loud?
How about numbers. Was there a crowd? How many people make up a crowd anyway? Is it three or more or is it 10 or more?
Was it off to the side or in the middle?
Why is it one person can be struck by lightening and survive and another falls to the ground dead when stuck by lightening? Everybody is different and unique. One person may be left with bruises by bumping shin on a coffee table while another person will not have a mark after being hit by a Louisville Slugger.
Is the glass half full or half empty?
The power of perception is something to think about. I guess it is all in how you look at it.
“Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.”
Hans Margolius
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Patience, speed and pit stops
While patience may be a virtue, it is not one of my personal favorites. I have a tendency to run short of it most of the time.
In this world of super computers, instant messaging, text messaging, emails, Google and everything else super speed, a person shouldn’t have to wait.
I am waiting for the results of the biopsy from last week. It is hard for me to wait, I admit that. But I also admit it is not the only thing I am doing.
I worked at the Triple Crown Hayward 300 snowmobile races on Saturday and Sunday. I have to say, I had a blast. I wasn’t expecting anything different. I have been to all three race weekends in the series, now, and it has been quite intriguing. Keep an eye on and upcoming issue of the Messenger for a story on the Triple Crown.
Being able to meet a lot of the racers and their crews, the event organizers and their crews (there are a lot of them!) has been an adventure. Everyone from the vendors to the course crew are great to work with. Not to forget the film crew and the other photographers. It has been an enthralling and rewarding experience.
Watching the races themselves are exhilarating, almost intoxicating at times. These riders are true athletes exhibiting strength and endurance while under the pressure of competition. Adrenaline rushes through every cell in their bodies, seeps out through their pores wafting through the air arousing the crowd with enthusiasm.
The racers are edgy and intense exhibiting confidence nearly touching the point of arrogance. But they have to be. They are serious competitors and show no fear. Not to say they don’t have fun when the racing is done.
I have always been a bit on the adventurous side. White water kayaking, mountain biking, rock climbing, black diamond skiing and sky diving have been more my personal style. But, the speed and skill of racing has captivated my attention. I am not saying I am going to become a snowmobile racer. But as a spectator sport for me, it has been very eye-opening.
Maybe because patience is not my best virtue. I like things to happen fast. I go through life with high expectations and want to see the checkered flag at the finish line of every project. I like blitzing the whoops but will accept a yellow caution flag once in a while. But as soon as the green flag comes back, I will go for it.
Of course, there are two sides to every coin. I don’t always run full-throttle. Everyone needs some time to refuel the spirit — a pit stop so to speak. I can get lost in a book in front of a cozy fire or lay on my back in the grass on a warm summer day and just watch the clouds drift by. It’s all good.
So, I am practicing patience and waiting for the biopsy report. I am confident I will get a green flag soon.
Keep the positive energy flowing.
In this world of super computers, instant messaging, text messaging, emails, Google and everything else super speed, a person shouldn’t have to wait.
I am waiting for the results of the biopsy from last week. It is hard for me to wait, I admit that. But I also admit it is not the only thing I am doing.
I worked at the Triple Crown Hayward 300 snowmobile races on Saturday and Sunday. I have to say, I had a blast. I wasn’t expecting anything different. I have been to all three race weekends in the series, now, and it has been quite intriguing. Keep an eye on and upcoming issue of the Messenger for a story on the Triple Crown.
Being able to meet a lot of the racers and their crews, the event organizers and their crews (there are a lot of them!) has been an adventure. Everyone from the vendors to the course crew are great to work with. Not to forget the film crew and the other photographers. It has been an enthralling and rewarding experience.
Watching the races themselves are exhilarating, almost intoxicating at times. These riders are true athletes exhibiting strength and endurance while under the pressure of competition. Adrenaline rushes through every cell in their bodies, seeps out through their pores wafting through the air arousing the crowd with enthusiasm.
The racers are edgy and intense exhibiting confidence nearly touching the point of arrogance. But they have to be. They are serious competitors and show no fear. Not to say they don’t have fun when the racing is done.
I have always been a bit on the adventurous side. White water kayaking, mountain biking, rock climbing, black diamond skiing and sky diving have been more my personal style. But, the speed and skill of racing has captivated my attention. I am not saying I am going to become a snowmobile racer. But as a spectator sport for me, it has been very eye-opening.
Maybe because patience is not my best virtue. I like things to happen fast. I go through life with high expectations and want to see the checkered flag at the finish line of every project. I like blitzing the whoops but will accept a yellow caution flag once in a while. But as soon as the green flag comes back, I will go for it.
Of course, there are two sides to every coin. I don’t always run full-throttle. Everyone needs some time to refuel the spirit — a pit stop so to speak. I can get lost in a book in front of a cozy fire or lay on my back in the grass on a warm summer day and just watch the clouds drift by. It’s all good.
So, I am practicing patience and waiting for the biopsy report. I am confident I will get a green flag soon.
Keep the positive energy flowing.
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