Introduction & Early Stages

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August 2002

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Friday, August 02, 2002

As I was going through the basement junk that has accumulated over the years, looking for some hidden treasures to pack up and bring to school, I came across a pair of my older brother Brian's aviator glasses. What a find! I was holding authentic 1988 Ray-Ban sunglasses, complete with the hoops to affix them firmly to my head and ears. I tried them on and when I glanced in the mirror, I was taken back 14 years to a time when life was "different." Or was it? A time when the stock market was going nuts. But it still is. A time when there was great uncertainty in the world and the well being of our civilization. But that's the case today. An era when dirty politics ruled and a hideous, stupid leader was crowned President of the United States. But so is the case today. Could the only difference between then and now be the bagginess in our jeans?

Could it be that we are all the same people doing all the same things we once did, only wearing smaller sunglasses? Is our pain and our suffering equal today to what it was 12 years ago? It was so hard to believe, but so easy to accept. I could only wish that in 12 or 14 years from now I'm that much happier and well off than I am now. If we can't look forward to growing and climbing the steps, why buy a two-story house?

The next question I asked myself was "how could he have left the house wearing these?" They are so large and so funny looking. But a second glance in the mirror and my call sign was Maverick and I was flying an F-15. Funny how quickly we can change our mind.

Tuesday, August 06, 2002

Just one of those weeks. When your body has no idea what is going on. It doesn't know when it's hungry, it doesn't know when it's tired. It just knows that you're playing games with it. And it doesn't want to play back.

Saturday morning we left New York early, and thanks to the rotation of the earth around the sun, we arrived in Phoenix just moments after we had left New York. Or at least that's what the clock said. So we decided to go to Vegas. Why not? We hopped in the car and drove 350 miles through the desert to Sin City. And if you think we drove 55 mph, think again.

I'm glad we drove; it was quite the "scenic route". Joshua trees, cacti, rocks, dirt and sand was as far as the eye could see. And the occasional coyote, bull or other animal I can't identify. I kept thinking to myself, "quite the difference, considering the last time I was in a car was on was the NJ Turnpike in Newark, New Jersey." Talk about night and day.

After staying up all night partying, drinking and of course gambling, I retired to our honeymoon suite at the Tropicana hotel. Actually we strolled down the strip and were more impressed with the number of families than anything. The lights just don't phase a New Yorker anymore. But it was still cool. Then to bed nice and early, pooped from about 10 hours of traveling.

Yesterday we held the A-Games in Phoenix (where we belonged the whole weekend), at the Glencroft Retirement Community. The group was great and I especially like how they laughed at all my jokes. The whole community was really excited, some people arrived over an hour before we were scheduled to begin. We all agreed that it was a successful event. I couldn't be happier. It's really great to connect with people with arthritis - of any age. Even though the average age was 83, these folks were young at heart. Younger than me on days like this.

So with no idea what time it is, where I am, and what I'm doing in this world, I'm headed to Charlotte for the next A-Games on Thursday. I think.

Monday, August 19, 2002

Lately I have been absolutely burdened with way too much. Five times in three days I've heard (from five people) "You're burning the candle at both ends, Seth." What does that mean, anyway? I'm made of wax? Sometimes it feels like I am. But I'd sooner say I'm made of some old oak woodÖstrong inside but terribly faded and probably not the sturdiest thing in the world. Though wax doesn't sound too bad right about now.

If I want to work long days and then go out with friends, I should be allowed to. If I want to sleep when I want for however long I think I need, I should be allowed to do that too. Granted life at home is a lot more stressful than life at school (home = coal factory, school = Club Med), which means I'm looking forward to heading back to where I can sleep nice long hours worry-free. Ah, the joys of college. It's only as good as you make it!

The other day I told someone that because I was out so late, I was going to hurt the next day. And sure enough I was sore, achy and above all, sorry I didn't get more sleep. Sleep just means more to me than the next guy.