Grace....

I don't consider myself a particularly religious man. I was raised Catholic, and raised my children in that tradition. As a scientist, it is a particularly thorny issue to struggle with the apparent dichotomy between the natural sciences and religion. Personally, I find the beauty imposed by the natural order of things to be divine. For example, the evolution of brightly colored flowers which serve to attract the birds and bees that dutifully spread their pollen. Those species of flowers which were differentiated from others thrived in a competitive universe.

I realize that life is an imperfect endeavor. Looking upon my life, I have many things to be thankful for, including a loving family, friends that care deeply about my well-being, a job that I find stimulating and wonderful, among other things. This reflection leads me to ask about what is "god's grace" and is there such a thing? I've come to the conclusion that god's grace provides me with what I need. God's mercy spares me from what I deserve. Perhaps as I get older I am beginning to reconcile the not-so-distant relationship between science and religion.

Too much love?

Is it possible to love something too much? I love my children and would do anything for them. But, sometimes it is the simplest things in life that bring us happiness. My son Parker, for example, loves his stuffed animals. Well, to be fair, he plays favorites. His favorite toy is his stuffed Woodstock -- you know the flittering little yellow bird that keeps Snoopy company.

Woodstock has been Parker's consummate friend for the past three years. As a result, Woodstock is suffering from signs of being doted upon day after day. Much of his feathers (yarn) have fallen out as if he has just been through extensive radiation therapy.

The moral of the story: sometimes when you love someone with such intensity, we must remember to show them the love and care they need -- or it is quite possible that all their hair (or feathers) will fall out!

Bearly surviving.

For Christmas last year I received a book, The Extreme Survival Guide, which was a very thoughtful gift. It was, however, in some sense a commentary on my life -- more or less as she viewed things -- essentially saying, "here read this, you're gonna need it!" The book is intended to be a practical guide covering a breadth of topics ranging from, how to survive a shipwreck, or what to do if you are stranded on the side of the road in Alabama (not sure which is worse), to more practical things as how to deal with a bad hair day, or endure a really bad cup of coffee.

To be honest, I never thought I would have much need for such a tome. My life is relatively uneventful for the most part. My only death-defying act I am capable of is driving my scooter at dusk, when the mosquito density is so thick that I am bound to get one in my eye resulting in a bloody crash into the neighbors back yard at 12 mph. Thus, I feel no compelling reason to commit The Extreme Survival Guide to memory.

However, this past Memorial Day, I had just the opportunity to crack open this book. I was sitting on the deck in the back of my house enjoying a glass of red wine. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed what appeared to be a large dog, I thought perhaps a German Shepherd because of its large brown snout - which is the only thing I saw at first glance. I took another sip of wine and peered over for another look. This time it was very clear what I was seeing --- b-b-b-b-e-a-r..... bear! Holy shit, a HUGE black bear, about 20 feet from me turns and looks directly at me. It scared me, so much so that I damn near spilled my wine!

He (or she... I really didn't bother to lift its tail to confirm this...) ambled through my back yard until I stood up to make my daring escape. Then, it left out a startled "grunt" and ran into the woods at an alarming rate. I had no idea these creatures were so fast! I was so addled from the encounter I ran into the door -- literally, ran into the door, not through it -- after gaining my composure and turning the door knob I managed to run through the door and tell the kids. B-b-b-b-e-a-r!! Look! And they did, confirming my sighting was not some wine induced hallucination.

I immediately called my oldest brother, to explain what just went down. He suggested that I immediately call the Department of Natural Resources to report it.... which I thought was a really stupid idea. Once the DNR sees all the garbage I've been throwing in woods behind my house I will have some explaining to do. No wonder there is a bear infestation in my back yard.

Needless to say, I am no longer taking midnight strolls through the woods.... at least not without my bear spray. Thanks Extreme Survival Guide I never thought I would need to know how to deal with a bear encounter -- even one at 20 feet away was close enough for me.

Random thoughts from a random guy

I keep a diary of random, and often remarkably stupid, thoughts and ideas that amble about my synapses. I titled it the "Annals of Random Thoughts, by Dennis" a hefty tome worthy of its namesake. Allow me to regale you with some excerpts.

On exercise.
No doubt, I need to exercise more frequently. Unfortunately, I have a prosthetic hip which makes running even more burdensome. From time to time I get what is commonly known as "restless leg syndrome" (RLS) which is a compelling and equally irritating urge to move my legs in bed. Being the eternal optimist, I decided to start wearing sweat pants to bed, because RLS is the closest thing I get to exercise... I may as well dress the part.

Makes my blood boil...
I have many blessings in my life, unfortunately, hypertension is not one of them. A recent visit to the doctor revealed that I have seriously high blood pressure. So, my doctor prescribed a diuretic to help lower my blood pressure. I found it amusingly ironic that the instructions on my pill bottle say "take one tablet with a full glass of water." On my next visit to my physician, I explained the apparent folly to my doctor which was met with a blank look, five second pause, and then a guffaw that brought tears to his eyes. Really, it wasn't that funny... just a casual observation. I told him he should try it some time.

Never stop looking for rainbows!

The upper midwest has suffered severe flooding, thunderstorms, and generally shitty weather the past two weeks. I know that "shitty" is not an accurate meteorological term, but it is the best adjective to describe the abject weather conditions. Amidst the chaos of fallen trees, hail, and horizontal rain, I experienced an odd perspective that can only be seen through the eyes of a child.

Driving through the pouring rain with a wall of ominous clouds looming on the horizon, my eight your old son, Parker, says from the back seat "look for rainbows daddy" --- to which I replied "What!?" He repeated -- "raining, look for rainbows daddy!" -- you see Parker has Down Syndrome and often has a different perspective on the current circumstances. His eternal optimism was encouraging me to look for the rainbows among the looming storm clouds... they have to be here somewhere, so lets find them.

Seeing life through the eyes of a child is a wonderful thing sometimes. Parker reminds me of that from time to time to keep me grounded in what is important in my life.

Keep looking for rainbows!

How to get your 8 year-old to eat veggies

Getting kids to do things that the inherently don't want to do is always a challenge. It is a battle of the wits... unfortunately I lost more often than not. I have, however, discovered a way to get my eight-year-old to eat his vegetables.... which is no small task! Here is the procedure. First, you must buy reasonably healthy tortilla chips, baked is be preferred. Then, find some taco dip with onions, olives, tomatoes, cilantro, lettuce, etc. Then, join in the fun!



Okay, so that totally works ... with lots of "Mmmmmmm" and "Yaaaaa" sounds its the best! Now, how can I disquise liver?!

A Father's Day gift to me...

I have three sons... all of which are healthy, creative, and inquisitive. Since tomorrow is Father's Day, and I am a very proud Dad, I thought I would share a picture of my little like-minded curmudgeons, whose ages are 12, 10, and 8. My youngest son, Parker, has Down Syndrome - as you may have noticed from the photo - but he is a source of happiness, and immeasurable love in our family. He has brought many more smiles than heartache. My older two sons, are the best big brothers he could wish for and I am deeply grateful for their loving, tolerant, and compassionate attitude that they show Parker - all of which has overflowed into their normal social interactions with other kids and made them better persons for it. And, of course, their mother is the most patient, caring, and loving mom they could ask for, and to whom I am eternally grateful.


Thank you boys, for being the source of strength, love, and meaning in my life.

All my love,
Dad

Whistle a new tune.

After a brutal winter, I am relieved to see people wearing shorts, tube-tops, and two-piece swim suits... well, not guys anyway. But riddle me this Batman, when is it ever okay to wear a black g-string with a white mini-skirt. Don't get me wrong, this girl is cute, but seriously? I think you have to be Latina to pull off that combo... others, don't even try. Of course, if she was trying to draw attention to yourself, it was working. Every card-carrying male in the office was trying to avert their eyes from this foul temptress, but it was like a car accident that we were drawn to out of morbid curiosity.

Which brings me to the next question, and this is just a dumb guy observation. When a girl who's wearing a g-string rips a big fart, does it make a whistling noise? Like holding a blade of grass between your thumbs and blowing real hard!? I think there is a great business plan for The Whistling g-string. Imagine the marketing campaign that could revolutionize women's underwear.

Girls, are you tired of the socially awkwardness of your flatulence? The uncomfortable feeling that comes from the need to grin and bear it? You never have to be embarrassed again, with the new Ronco Whistling G-string. Just whistle a happy tune as you pass wind, and your g-string will be your duet! Available in D-minor, middle-C, F-sharp, and G. It's great fun at the office -- get a few friends and form a quartet! Never have to suffer that uncomfortable bloating and pressure again with your new Whistling G-string. Your order comes with tuning fork, a bottle of skids-be-gone cleaner, and a training CD for practice. All for only $19.69!!