My father in law is a 92 year old WW II veteran and was my surrogate father when it mattered. To look at him you would never know. He has his hair and it is still mostly naturally brown. He has lost much of his belly, but his cheeks are full and he could be an ARRP poster boy. However, as it must for all of us, his body and mind are failing him. Anyone of a certain age has experienced it with their parents as they seemingly reverse roles with their children.
A few days ago, after a morning workout at the gym, I went to the snack bar for my "regular". The woman behind the counter greeted me with a smile and asked "The Regular?" A nod. Another nod and the breakfast smoothie with pineapple, mango, in orange juice, with a vanilla protein shot was under way.
My 11 year-old son recently got accepted into the SOAR program at school, which is an after school group that focuses on engineering, flight and space. We were both thrilled.
Anyone who knows me knows I am not a sports fan. I do, however, look forward to the Super Bowl. I enjoy having friends and family over and sharing the evening with them. Mostly, though, I enjoy the hype of the commercials.
That phrase is forever linked to Ed Koch, the former mayor of New York, who passed away yesterday. He was a fiesty guy who never shied away from a camera or a question from the media.
As many who know me have experienced, I am addicted to photography (it is amazing how fine the "in the moment" Blackberry snap shots can be). Most of all, I am hooked on shots of sunrise and sunsets. No doubt, the celebration and lamentation of the sun's eternal rise and fall is embedded in our primeval DNA. We are wired to worship the sun, the source of life and nature.
I don't remember many telephone numbers anymore. I don't think it is a result of not being able to remember them (although others may question that) but I simply don't have to remember the numbers. For the numbers I call most frequently, I have to remember the speed dials -- what character I assigned to which person. Otherwise, the number is right in my “Contacts”. I tell myself that these conveniences free my brain matter for consideration of more worthwhile matters. I hope that’s true.