The Curious, and Sometimes Unfortunate, Results of Video Technology

Have you ever seen an image on TV that made you cringe, jump, recoil, gag, or grimace?

I certainly have! The first incident that comes to mind is from a Packers/Vikings game last year. On a kickoff return, Charles Gordon of the Vikings suffered a horrific ankle injury that left his foot pointed 90 degrees in the wrong direction as he lay motionless on the field. Typically, this would not be replayed due to the severity of the injury. But, the producers didn’t see the injury so they ran the replay to see whether he had fumbled before his knee was down for all of America to see. The unintentional replay made it possible for me to see something that left me with goose bumps.

Ten years ago, this would have been a shudder-worthy replay. Today, it was far worse thanks to high-definition TV. I’m sure any sports fan can recount an incident where they saw an injury in high definition and yelled out in pain for the player.

Between the high-def cameras, the increase in the number of cameras, and the amazing quality of new slow motion cameras, video technology has changed the way we watch sports. For example, the NFL has those amazing cameras that run remotely along wires above its fields. If you’ve been to any major sporting event lately, or event watched one on TV, the number of cameras present, and the variety of angles they can show you, is pretty unreal.

In our homes, on the right TV, blades of grass or individual floorboards are easily detectable. The parquet floor of TD Arena never looked so nice as on a 1080p, 120hz LCD TV. And, the giant screen at the Cowboy’s new digs look just as clear in my home as it does for the fans pondering its gigantic glory. It makes watching sports at home a joy, because we are now seeing the game pretty close to as if we’re literally there.

Sometimes, though, especially lately, this has been a curse too. As I mentioned, there are the injuries. Another thing I’ve noticed lately is with the high-powered zoom and high quality, we are seeing more and more players, coaches, and even fans mouthing obscenities. I saw two on Sunday alone during the NFL games. I’m sure there are parents not too happy about their kids seeing sports figures and coaches mouthing these words and phrases.

In addition, this new video age has given us a much better look into the darker side of sports. Take, for example, Legarrette Blount’s KO of a Boise State player. Ten, even five, years ago we would have never seen that footage as clear as we did this year. Without the close up, high definition view of the punch, the public reaction would have been much less. If I told you a college football player punched an opponent, you would probably dismiss it soon after. But, seeing the actual punch crystal clear is a whole different ballgame. Or, how about the now-infamous Brandon Spikes eye gouge? Again, that footage would not have been possible not too long ago.

Video technology has a definite bright side, but a bit of a dark side too. But, if you ask me whether I want the high-def, 40” living room TV on Sunday afternoon, or the 19”, tube TV in the office, I’ll fight you for the remote.

It's That Season

Jeremy Grey: John? I need to see you right away. It's important.
John Beckwith: [Walking into Jeremy's office] What's going on?
Jeremy Grey: [sighs] We got three big weeks ahead of us. It's wedding season, kid!
John Beckwith: You sandbaggin' son of a b----!
Jeremy Grey: I've got us down for 17 of them already.

You may recognize that exchange from the comedy “Wedding Crashers.” While my name is John or Jeremy, I haven’t been crashing weddings this summer, and it hasn't quite been 17 weddings, I have felt like my summer is a whole lot like the montage of the two friends crashing a slew of different weddings.

This summer has been, indeed, “wedding season, kid!” Between Laura’s friends and mine, our official count of weddings attended over the past four months may very well have topped double digits. While weddings are, certainly, joyous occasions, and the receptions are typically a lot of fun, that’s just a whole lot weddings to attend, a lot of gifts to buy, and a lot of awkward conversations with people you know, but not really, but just well enough to feel obligated into that awkward semi-conversation. I know you know what I’m talking about.

The positives have been great, though. I’ve seen a bunch of my friends marry really great girls they are very in love with. I know the statistics about lasting marriages aren’t great, but I’d be truly surprised if any of them boosted that statistic. One of my favorite things to do at my male friends’ weddings is to buck tradition and keep my eyes trained on the groom when the bride is revealed. I love to see that look in his eye when he sees her for the first time. Without fail, it’s the happiest I’ve seen him in all the years I’ve known him.

I’ve had the opportunity to see friends that have moved to other parts of the country, get out and dance a little bit, even though not too many people would qualify what I do as “dancing,” and spend some really fun evenings with my fiancé. Each wedding we go to brings us closer to our own, and each one hits a little closer to home as our date rapidly approaches.

I can’t wait until all my friends have to return the favor and buy me a gift!!

Celebrating My Day of Birth

The last 3 hours of my birthday this weekend were some of the worst hours of any birthday.

Let’s rewind 24 hours, though. That’s way too negative of a statement for me to make. Every moment of my birthday up to that point was fantastic. I had the best 26th birthday I could have asked for.

The day started at midnight (obviously), inside a really unique bar in downtown Chicago. I was surrounded by friends, one (Megan) I’d known for 12 years, and two (my brother and Chris) all my life.

After some sleep, we were on the Megabus to Milwaukee by lunchtime, where we met up Chris’s family. It was great to see them, great to see his brother Alex’s new house, and good to be back in Wisconsin – even if I was only there 7 hours. We went up to see a Brewers game, and it was a fun game that ended in a Brewers victory. It was so nice to have the Stelsel and Vant Hoff brothers together and we shared many laughs, mostly at the stark differences between the people Chris and I have become. We still remain best friends though.

By 9:00 p.m., Chris, David and I were back on the Megabus, headed back to Chicago. That’s when it started. It was a double decker bus, and we headed to the back. Little did we know, it was the perfect storm at the back of what became my jail cell on wheels for the next three hours.

The trip started off fine, with me dozing off. But when I woke up, to the sound of a screaming child, I never made it back to dream land. Two seats back, two very young parents had a child who was absolutely screaming at the top of her lungs, on and off, for the entire trip. They did nothing to stop it, other than yelling at her to shut up a few times. They used awful language, said naïve things, and spoke like they were the only ones around.

I could not believe nobody said anything to them, until people on all sides of me started to join in on the idiot party. To my left, a girl got on her cell phone and let loose like she was in private, and behind me a woman got on her phone and started using motherf*#@er approximately every 10 words, like it was the only qualifier she knew. At one point, she said “if that B*#$ch doesn’t show up, I’m going to punch her in her motherf*#@ing throat.” IN THE THROAT?!?! That’s pretty violent.

By the time we got off the bus from our trip down the River Styx, I had 10 minutes left of my birthday. I lamented for 5 of those, and took the last 5 to soak in the beauty of the Chicago skyline on our walk back to Chris’s apartment.

You know what, though? On second thought, I bet my actual birth day was way worse than those three hours. I was removed from my home for the past 8 1/2 months, slapped on the butt, cut away from my food source, and exposed to lights for the first time ever. That had to be pretty rough!

Family Matters

I did a lot of thinking about family this past weekend. A no, not about the Winslows... sorry for the misleading title.

For starters, I spent the weekend in the great state of Wisconsin with my family. I traveled up there with my brother, sister-in-law and fiancé for a high school friend’s wedding. Spending time with my parents in Wisconsin is always different than when they come to visit us in Indianapolis. I think this is mostly because my brother and I always have eight million things we want them to help us with once they are here. My dad is Mr. Handyman, and has the drive of the Energize bunny, so we have him working on house projects with us all weekend.

Besides that, though, it’s just different being home – being in the place where you grew up. There is a greater sense of family there. No matter how many years I’m removed from my life in Waupun, there will always be a certain feeling I find there that can’t be found anywhere else. I don’t wish I was still there, but I do like going back and being there from time to time.

Along with the trip came the challenge of seeing my grandmother, the matriarch of the family, ailing from severe back pain. To see a family member in state of pain is a hard pill to swallow. I know, and fully accept, that with age comes health issues but it’s not easy being face-to-face with it.

On Saturday morning I had breakfast with a different friend from high school. He was a close friend, but at least two years had elapsed since we had last seen each other. At breakfast I learned, from the size of his wife’s belly, that there was a bun in the oven. To think of anyone you were friends with in high school, unless they were unusually paternal in their high school years, is a funny thought. I, of course, remember all of the crazy and fun things we did together, but it also opened my eyes to the way life is changing in a hurry.

On Saturday evening the wedding was the seventh of eight weddings Laura and I will attend this summer. This was, again, a constant reminder of how much life is changing for us and all of our friends. With my own wedding only nine months away, the mid-20’s wedding train is moving full speed ahead. This wedding was unique though, and brought about some new thoughts. The bride has gone/will undergo some major life changes all in a short period of time. She met a guy from Germany at a work event in late 2007. Since then she has fallen in love, become engaged, lost her job, gotten married and will soon move to Germany and start a new job. Mind you, she does not even speak fluent German yet, although that will come in a hurry when she is immersed. She will leave all she knows, all her friends and family, behind to start a new family, a new life, in a new country. I cannot imagine dealing with all of that at once, but she seems genuinely happy and I’m happy for her.

I also read a book, “There Are No Children Here,” that follows a family growing up in a Chicago project in the late 80’s. The mother faces an impossible task, and the family is so very different that anything I can relate to. I guess that’s what kept my eyes glued to the pages. That book threw a range of emotions my way.

The underlying factor in all of this, family, is so critical to everyone’s lives. Even in the absence of it, family plays a huge role in people’s lives. I’m thankful for the family I’ve been blessed with, and hope to look at the branches of the family tree that have sprouted below me some day with a feeling of pride, and the knowledge that I have left a positive mark on the world.

I Think I’ll Give This a Tri

Anyone who knows me, knows I love to try new adventures.

On Saturday, I’ll take on my latest and greatest adventure when I set out to complete my first Triathlon. I’ve been training for about four months, particularly on the biking and swimming as they are new to me, and in that time I’ve realized some things.

The first is that Triathlons are somewhat of a subculture in America. Everyone has heard of them, but not many people know much else other than you swim, bike and run. To be honest, I knew nothing about them before I suddenly decided to try one out.

The number one reaction I have gotten from people after telling them what I’m training for is amazement. The feelings after I tell them the distances, however, are mixed. I’m only doing the shortest of the four races you can take on. My distance, called a Sprint Tri, can vary a little based on the race organizer’s preference and mine consists of a 500 meter swim, 10 mile bike, and three mile run. My more fit friends become a little less impressed once they hear that, and others are still amazed.

While training for three different events is no joke, and the race does take more than an hour to complete, it certainly is not an unattainable goal or a major feat. It’s more of a primer, and actually quite a great marketing tool for USA Triathlon. By offering up a distance any beginner can train for, and feel comfortable with, is like handing out free samples at the grocery store. They’re trying to get you hooked on their product so you come back for more.

If the only distances were the top three, Olympic, Half Iron and Iron, I doubt they would generate near the interest. I, for one, would have thought twice about taking on an Olympic-length tri for my first attempt, whereas the Sprint distance was a no brainer. On a side note, anyone who completes an Iron Man Tri is a true champ in my book. Imagine running a full marathon after swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112. That makes me hurt just thinking about it!

The sport is also much younger than I thought. The first sanctioned swim/bike/run tri was held a mere 35 years ago in 1974 in California. That’s quite a bit younger than any other sport that comes to my mind. It’s certainly gaining traction quick, though. An internet search is evidence of how popular the sport has become.

While I certainly can’t vouch for other people’s reasons for giving Tri's a shot, I know what inspired me. I’ve become somewhat of an avid runner the past couple of years, and frequently compete in 5k’s, my favorite distance. I plan on doing at least one 10k this summer, but I was often feeling lazy or unimpressive when my friends would talk about completing mini’s or marathons. The problem is that distance of running has no appeal to me. My knees aren’t up for that kind of stress, and I just get bored after about mile five. Tri’s, on the other hand, offer me the opportunity to complete a more challenging race, but spread the time out on different events. I’m exciting about getting out of the water and getting on a bike, and then trying to get my tired legs to pump for the run portion. It’s a whole new challenge, and if I enjoy it I plan on going for an Olympic-distance race in August.

I wont even get into the insane rule book, or incredible amount of money you can spend on Tri gear in this post. I visited a store aptly called T3 (the transitions between events are called T1 and T2) and left having spent $0 and my with my head spinning. For this race I’m forgoing expensive, sport-specific gear until I’m sure I like it. On Saturday I’ll be wearing a knee-length Speedo, not Tri shorts, swim goggles from TJ Maxx, and riding a 1970’s road bike inherited from my dad.

For anyone who loves competition, challenging themselves, cardio workouts and the outdoors, I highly recommend giving Triathlons a look. As my friend who is an avid Triathlete told me, though, be prepared to have a 60-year-old man whiz past you on the bike or a young kid breeze by you on the run. You may feel like you’re in great shape, but there are always people better, sometimes in unexpected forms.

America Temporarily Lowers Its Freak Flag

I have a guilty pleasure.

Well…to be perfectly honest I, like most others, have many guilty pleasures.

My personal laundry list includes watching romantic comedies, plucking my eyebrows (I blame the fiancé for that addiction), eating the salt at the bottom of pretzel bags, attempting to rap and/or sing along with songs in my car, crappy 90’s hip hop, Kelly Clarkson, eating a spoonful of peanut butter right from the jar, drinking milk and/or juice from the carton or bottle, chili cheese burritos, and the list goes on.

The guilty pleasure I am reference on this instance, however, is watching, and actually getting wrapped up in, “American Idol.” The human interest side of me is so weak, and I just can’t help becoming emotionally invested in the contestants as I get to know them.

Last night the contrast between the final contestants was night and day. Adam is a “dude” that wears glitter eye liner, tighter pants than my fiancé would ever dream of wearing, shoes with heels, etc… all while giving the camera a stare that gives me the heebie jeebies. Kris is a wholesome college kid that gently strums his guitar or tinkles the ivories with a grin of content on his face. Adam likes to scream at the top of his lungs, and is uncomfortable without the flamboyant. Kris has a smooth, soulful tone and seems uncomfortable in the limelight. The differences go on.

So, I was very curious which side of America would make the greatest showing last night? Was it going to be the internet/social media side of America, where freak flags are flown without hesitation, and people feel free to express wishes/desires/views they would never have the guts to share face to face? Or, would it be wholesome America that likes puppies, white picket fences, and apple pies cooling on the window sill?

It seems the 100 million votes were skewed in the favor of apple pies last night, and I was thankful. I found Adam’s voice to be slightly grating at times, and his dramatic performances and creepy stares to be too much. It sure was interesting to see how America felt though.

Now that Idol is over, it’s right on to yet another guilty pleasure, this one far more embarrassing that American Idol. Last year, I’m sorry to admit, my fiancé got me hooked on another Nigel Lythgoe creation, “So You Think You Can Dance.” I never really had much appreciation for dance, but something about that show caught me. It got so bad last year that on the way in to work one morning after an episode I started visualizing what moves would go with a song I heard on the radio. Man, I really hope none of my male friends read this… my man card will surely be revoked!

Beware of Your Seventh Amendment

According to the Marion County Juror Pool website, I got to experience one of the “privileges of citizenship” yesterday. On the surface, I couldn’t agree more. Our forefathers shed blood and tears to set forth the seventh amendment.

But, privilege is not the overriding feeling I walked away with.

I’m not going to rail on the process of jury duty. I actually thought the city did a fine job. Instructions were clear, we were kept informed throughout the day, and the process was explicitly explained to us. I even had the luck of being called on “juror appreciation week.” As such, they had muffins, fruit, and juice boxes for us – a luxury not normally afforded to potential jurors

What troubles me, however, is some of the people I shared the room with. What I witnessed during my four and-a-half hours of waiting shocked me.

For starters, at least a quarter of the people showed up late – some, as many as 20 minutes late.

Then came the blooper reel. I could tell the woman who was in charge of keeping us updated had done her job for quite some time. She simplified every instruction to the most basic level humanly possible, addressed mistakes and misunderstanding others had made, and politely repeated the most important parts. It reminded me of the saying, “tell them what you’re going to tell them, tell them, and then tell them what you just told them.” This woman had it down to a science.

Despite her skill, multiple people in the room failed to pay attention, comprehend, and/or heed her instructions. Throughout the day, she had to deal with an insane level of what appeared to be either extreme stupidity, or just a complete lack of care.

She called half of the names in the room and asked those people to hand their surveys to the bailiff, and asked the other half to hold on to their forms until the next bailiff came. Simple, first-grade level instructions, right? Wrong. Within seconds, somebody walked up to the podium to ask her what to do because his name hadn’t been called. This forced her to get back on the microphone to make sure people whose names hadn’t been called had not given the first bailiff their form.

After the second group was called, another guy had an issue. He apparently showed up, went to the wrong room, which was empty, and sat there for 20 minutes. The fact that nobody was checking him in, and there were no other potential jurors showing up, must not have been a strong enough clue to him that something was wrong. After his name wasn’t called, he approached the lady in charge to find out why. When the lady found out he had sat in the wrong room, come in late, had not checked in, didn’t tell anyone, and expected everything to proceed smoothly, she was dumbfounded. So was I.

Throughout the day, she had to call off names at three separate times. She asked that we loudly and clearly say “here” when our name was called. Again, that’s something we learned back in grade school, so surely nobody could mess up that instruction. Boy was I wrong again. Some people said here so quiet nobody could possibly hear them, and she was forced to asked people to speak loudly at least 10 times. Others, despite sitting right there, didn’t respond to their own name! It took two or three repetitions for some people to get out the word “here.”

That’s not all of what I witnessed during my fateful day of jury summons, but I think it’s enough to paint a clear picture of the humor that kept me from boredom yesterday. If only our forefathers could have been flies on the wall yesterday. I’m not sure if they would laugh, cry, or both, but I’m pretty sure that was not what they imagined when they wrote the seventh amendment.

I had a dream... but why?

On Sunday morning I woke up in a strange mood. I don’t know how to explain it, other than strange. It wasn’t necessarily a bad mood, and it wasn’t a good mood, either. The mood wasn’t a result of what had happened before I fell asleep, nor what happened in the moments after waking up, but rather the time between.

I’m pretty sure everyone experiences this from time to time, but it still amazes me how much of an effect dreams can have on my mood after I wake up. Even after I’m fully awake and come to grips with the fact whatever I had dreamt was not real, the resulting mood can stick with me for as long as a day sometimes. But, why does this happen?

Through my research of Oneirology, the study of dreams, I learned that dreams spur negative emotions more commonly than positive ones, with anxiety topping the list. That was definitely the overriding emotion I felt Sunday morning, so I was on the right track. I already knew that dreams were associated with Rapid Eye Movement (REM), and that sleep-deprived individuals often fall into REM very quickly and have very lucid dreams. I learned the average human spends six years dream, and that was pretty interesting, but still didn’t answer my question of why I couldn’t shake the emotions after I was conscious.

I also learned quite a bit about all the different kind of dreaming, such as reoccurring dreams, which I’m sure everyone experiences, dreams where we seem to have control and can change the outcome, dreams where we think we are awake, dreams that wake us up at a critical point, dreams that incorporate noises we are actually hearing, etc… The overriding lesson I took away from my research, however, is that nobody really knows that much about dreams. Some believe them to be spiritual or prophetic – I hope not since I’ve dreamt my own death, – others feel they are a subconscious manifestation of our true desires and fears. There are a lot of theories on how we dream, why we dream, what shapes content, why they can be so weird, and how to interpret them, but no one answer has be collectively agreed upon.

There is, almost literally, endless information about dreams on the web, including everything from people asking or tell about their dreams, to “experts” stating their theories. I didn’t find an answer to my question, but at least I can rest assured – no pun intended – that I won’t ever find myself in a situation like the episode of “The Simpsons” where Groundskeeper Willie is killing students during their dreams, resulting in their real-life death…right?

It ain't easy being green... except today!

This morning my fiancée proudly announced to me that she had remembered to wear her green in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, and therefore would not have to endure pinching as a result of not dressing appropriately for the occasion. This came as shock to me. I had never heard of being pinched on St. Patrick’s Day for not wearing green. If someone had pinched me without this prior knowledge, I likely would have had some choice words for them – she saves me yet again. I don’t know whether I’ve been living in a pinch-free bubble my entire life or she just has strange friends, but it inspired me to dig a bit deeper into the Irish-inspired, green-beer-soaked holiday.

We celebrate a lot of holidays throughout the year, many of which have taken on a whole new meaning than originally intended (i.e. Santa-centric Christmas), but we often know little about the origins. St. Patrick’s Day isn’t even an official holiday here, but we celebrate like it is! When I think of St. Patrick’s day I think of the color green, beer, shamrocks, and funny little Leprechauns doing a merry jig to Irish flute music. Don’t let those happy little Leprechauns fool you, though, some are evil, as evidenced by the Leprechaun films of the 90s! But I digress...

Similar to Christmas, St. Paddy’s Day, or Lá ’le Pádraig, started as a religious holiday in Ireland, and has transformed into so much more. Over the years it’s gone from a holy day of obligation for Roman Catholics in Ireland, to a reason to get drunk on a weekday. What was once the humble celebration of the patron-saint of Ireland has now become a suitable excuse to wear a t-shirt proclaiming to be Irish for a day or asking strangers to plant one on you. The original use of the shamrock was to explain the Holy Trinity, now the word shamrock inspires in me a Pavlov-like mouth watering zest for those delicious limited-time mint shakes at McDonalds. I don’t care what anyone says, adding mint flavor to a regular McDonalds shake is just not the same!

I must say though, despite our complete misconstruing of what the holiday actually meant when it was originated, I sure do enjoy the opportunity to put back a green beer with friends while wearing a green shirt and planning my next trip to get one last Shamrock Shake before they are gone for another long year. But what the heck, McDonalds is kind of an Irish name, right?

A Means to a Beginning

Wedding planning is a funny thing. Some people choose to go big, some small, some elope, others welcome the opportunity to gather family and friends.

No matter how you choose to enter matrimony, though, the one constant is money. I knew going in that weddings cost, but until you’ve worked on planning one, you can’t appreciate just how much.

The big costs are easy to indentify, dress, flowers, music, food, drink, etc... But there are so many more small costs you forget to take into consideration. I’m lucky enough to have fantastic support family and future family, but I can’t imagine not having that. For me, the most important aspect of the day, besides getting to say I do to the best person I’ve ever met, is getting to share it with my family and friends and that requires money.

As I pondered that thought, I began to wonder whether there are people actually postponing their weddings due to the economy. What if the future bride or groom, or brides parents lost their jobs? Or, what if there wasn’t a lot of money to start with and now there’s just not enough to pay for even the basics of a wedding.

The economy is starting to affect aspects of life I never would have imagined in a million years, and the longer it goes on, the more parts of our lives it will affect. I saw an idea a journalist was working on that revolved around finding couples who were planning to have a baby but holding back due to the economy. I can’t imagine planning to start a family and then deciding to hold off. That has to be a major downer, because that’s just an exciting time in life.

I know there are too many effects of what’s happening right now to even begin to explore, and I’m way off topic from where I started, but I sure do hope we start to see some positive economic signals by the end of the year.

I have questions, but rarely answers

My brother has a knack for finding bizarre, and sometimes alarming, news articles that run the gamut of topics. He loves to send them on via e-mail and I’ve often considered blogging about them. I’m sure I’ll write about one again, but the first one I’ve decided to write about concerns lifespan extension. Basically the issue boils down to this, if you had the option, would you choose to live longer?

There are really two topics here, extending this life or being cloned into a new life as the same person. Who really knows if either is possible, I’m sure one, if not both, will be at some point, but this particular article focused in on extending this life. To avoid writing too much, I’ll stick to that one.

So, if you had the option of undergoing a medical procedure that could help you live, and this is important, a HEALTHY life for longer, would you want to? The article described doctors who think they have found a way to dramatically slow the effects of aging so that we not only live longer, but do so in a healthy state. A number of thoughts came to mind, so here are the top few in the order they came

One, our population is already growing at an alarming rate, particularly in certain countries like China where measures have been put into place to slow it due to overpopulation. We are currently at 6.8 billion and continuing to grow. Consider this, in 1900, which is not that long ago considering how long humans have been around, the world population was 1.65 billion, and in 1800 it was under a billion! By the way, women who have 14 babies aren’t helping anything – that’s just nonsense if you ask me.

Sometimes I feel like we are a virus to Earth. We have spread at incredible rates, cut down the forests, depleted natural resources, polluted the water and air, extinct other species, and generally ruined the beautiful state of the planet. If we lived longer our cities would continue to grown in size, we would use up more and more resources, and we would surely continue to see all of the problems I listed above continue to become more dire. According to physicists such as John Bernal, Erwin Schrödinger, Eugene Wigner, and John Avery, life is a member of the class of phenomena which are open or continuous systems able to decrease their internal entropy at the expense of substances or free energy taken in from the environment and subsequently rejected in a degraded form. But we seem to take part in that process in a much more harmful and invasive way than any other organism. By the way, thanks to Wikipedia for that definition.

Ok, the obvious thought was that we are already helping ourselves live way longer than ever before though pharmaceutical drugs and modernization. The average lifespan today is 66.12 and in early 20th century it was 30-40. Obviously that’s an average range, and it’s way higher in some areas of the world, and much lower in others. So, is this any different that what we’ve already done?

The biggest mind boggler I came across was whether we are preconditioned to expect to live to a certain age. I, to be 100% honest, would be absolutely content to life a full, healthy life that extended into my late 70’s or 80’s. My grandparents are 85 and 86 and still very active and healthy, and I would love to do the same. But, do I accept that only because that’s what I think is supposed to happen? If it was normal for people to live to be 150, or on the other side of the coin, 30, would I be perfectly content to do the same? The answer is of course I would because that would be the accept norm of everyone I knew.

This leads perfectly into my next thought, whether we are messing with things we need not mess with. Is science going to places it shouldn’t go? The answer is nobody can really know. When it comes to cloning, the human genome project, life extension, stem-cell research, and so many other topics that prod the ever-present beehive of how far is too far, there is no real answer of what will be good for us, and what will be bad. The only way we will know is to actually move forward with it and see, which is what we always end up doing.

I guess the real question is are we like the cat in the old adage – will curiosity some day kill us? I’ll likely not live to see the answer, but I’m curious to know!

A penny for your thoughts

For years I have subscribed to a select number of magazines that I choose to read for a mix of entertainment, knowledge, and self improvement. Every month I peruse the various articles looking for those that most interest me, and the ones I think can have the greatest impact on my life.

The most recent addition to my repertoire of knowledge-dropping glossies is Men’s Health. Each year, I think back about which magazines I liked best and which ones I can shed, and then determine what new publication I should try. I chose Men’s Health this year primarily for its advice on, well, health tips for men. It also offers a variety of other tips for men, and is a well-rounded publication.

After reading only one issue, however, I finally had a light bulb that had been dim for many years go on. I love reading my magazines, but they always leave me feeling a bit lacking. After reading about 100 different ways I can strengthen my core, “shred” my abs, etc… I realized why it is I always get that feeling. It’s simple, change really is hard.

It’s easy to read about ways to improve your life, but so very hard to actually do it. Heck, there are literally millions of self-help books out there about how to make money, forge good relationships, be a better person, get in shape, and the list goes on. If you analyzed how much money is spent on them every year, I’m sure the figure would be astounding.

So, why aren't we all pulling down six or seven figure salaries in our dream jobs that allow us to vacation to our beachfront properties often, while not thinking twice about what we look like in our bathing suits with our flawless mates?

Well, part of it is we are human, and, as a result, we are not perfect. But, part of it is also finding the strength, courage and, most importantly, time to change is not easy. Once we get into a pattern, rhythm, groove, habit, whatever you want to call it, it takes that much more effort to change – even if we know it’s for the better. An object in motion tends to stay in motion, right?

All of this, of course, is just conjecture on my part. I don’t hold a degree that would help me speak intelligently on this topic, but I've been speaking my mind for 9 blog posts so why change now?

25, going on irrelevant?

I was sitting at a recent Butler Basketball game and I happened to look over at the young girl sitting next to me. She was texting on her slide-out keyboard cell phone, and my friend also took notice of this and made a comment about youth. It was then that I realized something… I think I might be falling out of touch with today’s youth.

I’m not saying I don’t text, I do quite often, but it was just the catalyst that spurred this thought. When I was young, I just assumed I would always be young, or at least in touch with the young crowd. I still remember how cool I felt when I set up my first e-mail account on Hotmail! Now, I’m not so sure I’m 100% in touch. Instead of moving with the times, I sometimes feel like I'm just trying to keep up.

I’m on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, I write comments about news stories, post to online discussions, I obviously have a blog, etc… but these are supplements to my every day life, bonuses if you will. For today’s youth, it’s a necessity. It’s an extension of their everyday interactions and it flows seamlessly into their day-to-day life.

As many thoughts do, this got me thinking down another path. Isn’t it amazing what the internet has done to our society? When the first computers – the ones that filled an entire room – were invented they were going to change the world as we knew it, and they did! They kept getting smaller, and smaller, and soon every home and office had one. I remember our first Compaq Presario, it was the bomb! Pre-Pentium, it rocked a 486 processor, blazed through Doom with 16 mb of RAM, and had endless hard drive space with a whole 500 mbs!

But, the true impact of computers – albeit big at the time – was nothing until one single phone line cable was plugged into the back. The internet has changed the way we think, the way we interact, our knowledge base, heck, it’s changed everything. The world is truly a different place than it was pre-internet.

Whether it’s for the good or for the bad will be determined in time, but anything that can bring me a hilarious video of a little girl screaming obscenities at Will Ferrell can’t be all that bad, right??

Rorschach, Smorschcach: A much-needed update to psychological evaluation.

Every year, my mom makes somewhere in the ballpark of 20 different kinds of cookies and candies at Christmas. So, what does this have to do with psychological evaluation you ask? Great question! You see, each cookie and/or candy varies greatly from the other. And, as you might expect, each person has his or her favorite kind. It’s my theory that you can learn a lot about a person, simply based on their favorite Connie Christmas Cookie, or CCC.

For anyone who didn’t recognize the name Rorschach in the title, it refers to Hermann Rorschach, the Swiss Freudian psychiatrist best known for developing the Rorschach inkblot test. By looking at the inkblots and describing what they see and why, patients supposedly reveal characteristics about themselves.

By analyzing people’s choices in CCCs, I’ve been able to extrapolate my own data with which to asses my unsuspecting patients, muhahaha. We’ll start with me – my favorites are my mom’s spritz cookies, and her gingerbread people (this is a PC blog)! One has a very strong almond extract flavor to it, the other has overriding notes of ginger and cinnamon. As such, I’m a person who likes bold things and to take chances. The typical is very boring for me and I often seek new adventures or take risks.

My grandfather, on the other hand, specifically avoids the spritz cookies because they are colored green with food dye. This is the same man who, at 86 years old, had never eaten an M&M until recently because he thought they were flavored to match the colors, like Skittles. My grandfather is a skeptical man, who does not take an uncalculated step. For example, he’s a very good handyman but before he undertakes a project he has thought every aspect of it through. I, on the other hand, love to attack projects head on. Thus, the difference in cookies!

My fiance loves the seven-layer bars. They have a wide array of ingredients and a diverse flavor. She loves to have a lot of different things going on, and to take on a ton of responsibility such as working two jobs, planning a wedding, going to the gym on a regular basis, taking up knitting, relearning Spanish, making time for me etc… Just thinking of all the things she does makes me tired.

One of my coworkers just commented to me that the sugar cookies are her favorite. As you might expect, she is a very even-keel type person. You typically won’t find her doing something outrageous or risky. She likes to be on the safe side of things.

As you can see from my study of humans and their favorite CCCs, it’s really quite easy to develop a better understanding of those around you based on cookie preferance. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a gingerbread person that has been taunting me all day long and I have to go threaten to take its gumdrop buttons.