Test For Echo

Today has been kind of a lost day, mainly because I slept through most of it. That's what happens when you're running on three hours of sleep. The story is as follows- I've been running a fever all week, but haven't had a chance to get to sick call and get checked out. Typical me, I thought if I ignore it, eventually it'll go away. No such luck, at least not yet. So I got a ride down to the emergency room, and got checked out. Congratulations, they said. You have a viral infection. Take two of these and get lost. So I did. Why, you may be asking, did I not go to sick call? Well, I'll be honest. There's always been kind of a negative connotation, perhaps only in my own mind, that sick call is just for people who want to get out of work. Me personally, I could care less. But that's only one of the reasons. The other is I simply didn't have time. Sure, I could complain about that to higher-ups, but what's the point? I was out on supply missions Monday through Wednesday, meaning I had to be up before dawn and be rolling out before daybreak. The missions would generally keep me out long enough to miss the hours sick call is assigned to. Thursday I was at PT, feeling like hot buttered roadkill, but alive and kicking nonetheless. This PT session ran long- again, no sick call for me. So Thursday night rolls around- I'm sitting on the couch, kind of tipped over against one arm, wrapped up like an Eskimo, except for the buckets of sweat pouring off of me part. Now this is strange, as despite sweating, I was cold as a New England winter. My roommate walks into the room, takes one look at me, and says, "Get in the car. We're going to the hospital". So knowing it was useless (and probably not in my best interest) to protest, I went. The diagnosis took a little while, but they said take Friday, stay home, drink lots of liquids and take some Tylenol to slow the fever. Which brings us up to the current point. I think it probably was a good idea, just the whole lack of time was a real pain in the tail. But I'm on the mend now, and actually got to wondering, could some of it be caused by stress, and/or lack of sleep? I had been trying to squeeze in a nap in the afternoon, before dinner and before my nightly call to Tabatha. But the week has been a stressful one, much as I hate to admit defeat in that. Well, knowing is a good deal of the battle, I think. Now I have two days to sleep late, take things slowly, and generally let my body get back in balance.

The title of this post is a line from a song by Rush, which some of you may be familiar with. The same roommate has been on kind of a Rush kick lately, not that I mind, as I'm a big fan too. I find there's that good balance between technical proficiency and imagination that marks a great band. Geddy Lee actually is a talented player, for a skinny gangly guy. Hey, it worked for Steve Perry (of Journey, you unhip people you). But I find that he has the ability to strike that balance between proficiency and showing off. In this same category I'd go with my dad's observation and put B.B. King, as well as Eric Johnson. Both could cram notes into a song until it creaks- but they don't. Nor do they play 'minimalist'- a frequently misused term in the modern music world. My own thoughts are this- when you can do something and choose not to, that's minimalist. When you don't have the skill to do something and don't, that's a limitation. Recognizing limitations means you can go beyond them- after all, who picks up an instrument and can play it perfectly the first time? Or who can sing perfectly the first time? Like any skill, these things take time, dedication and study to master. Not all limitations are bad, in fact they can tell us how to improve. But when you let your ego get in the way, that limitation will all too often go unrecognized.

Back in my home state of Connecticut, it looks like the big news is the opening of what I'm pretty sure is a second Sonic, in Manchester. For some incredible reason, people lined up for miles! Sonic makes good food, though perhaps not the most healthy choice, but still. I wish I had that much time, to wait in line for an hour or so for a burger. People were complaining that the location will create a major traffic snarl, and they're probably right. Well, I doubt the traffic snafus there could hold a candle to the epic forehead-slapping mind-boggling incompetence of the Fort Sill traffic control division. They have a knack, however, for taking a bad situation and making it a hundred times worse. Now that's talent, though given, talent in the wrong direction. I also heard that McDonald's was protesting the Sonic opening? I'm guessing that was more along the lines of a formal complaint than say, picketing the place, but then again, stranger things have happened. I wonder, on what grounds? Because the opening of a new McDonald's doesn't garner that kind of crowd? Are there people in paper hats carrying signs saying 'Stop Making Better Food Than Us'? I'd put Sonic pretty high on the list of good burger joints in our country, second only to Wayne's Drive In, though Wayne's is privately owned, and not a franchise. The reason I say this is because the food is good, and generally of the comfort-food variety. Certainly not something you'd want every night, but not bad. Also, you can avoid the gargantuan sizes that Burger King made themselves famous for. Of course, if you're really that hungry, go for it- Burger King has a decent menu. I've always wondered- can you get a Texas Whopper up north? Or is that limited to Texas, and us border towns?

But actually, I have the odd habit of considering Hartford my point of origin- simply because I was brought onto this blue and green ball of mirth in that venerable city. I was born during a snowstorm (or so I'm told) in St. Francis Hospital. This was later to become something of an interesting coincidence, as I always considered Francis to be one of the historical figures I always admired. Learning of his life and times interested me- not that I saw any great parallel between his own life and mine, but rather because his story seems such a strange one. Born in Italy to a merchant, Francis went through a similar kind of catharsis as Buddha did, and as time went on, I found to my surprise that their stories paralleled each other. Francis rejected the material world, and became what would be called an ascetic- this is a widespread practice, to varying degrees, throughout the world. Buddha himself did this too, first leaving his home after witnessing a sick person, a dead person, and an old person. He realized that the physical world is subject to change, and as a result, a source of suffering. So did Francis, except in this saint's case the suffering of others ultimately prompted him to come to regard his body, and his material existence, as inferior to a life of spirit, a life devoted to God. Buddha too followed a similar path, but ultimately realized a way that accepts rather than rejects our physical life, later to be known as the Middle Path. I would surmise that Francis himself would have come to a similar understanding, as these two had such similar paths- I'd like to think that these two men have stumbled onto the same thing, and perhaps would ultimately have reached the same end- this actually gives me a dose of hope for the future, as if this is the case, wouldn't it seem to be that ultimately, there is one universality of human experience? It's pretty commonly known that we humans tend to filter what we experience through the medium of perception and culture, but ultimately there are more common factors than there are cultural differences.

So have a good weekend, don't drink the Tenafly Viper- but if you're around Manchester, do try the Chicago Dog. Good stuff.