Watching illness steadily encroach

Sometimes you get sick and you're all, "Whoa! Where'd that come from?" That's how I felt two weeks ago when I came down with some weird stomach virus. Fortunately, the whole thing was over within 48 hours.

Other times you start to sniffle, ache and sneeze and you're all, "Yep. I pretty much knew that was coming." In fact, on some of these occasions you can remember the exact moment in space-time when the disease was transmitted to you. Those times most frequently involve kids.

I love my children with a white-hot intensity equal to that of the Sun's core. However, dammit if they aren't the most effective disease vectors known to man. Ticks? Psht. Mosquitoes. Please.

Take tonight, for instance. I can feel the early stages of the flu coming on. My eyes burn, I'm coughing and I'm getting more and more weary every passing hour. I know how this happened. I was sitting in the living room Friday when Owen, who had been sneezing all day, started to tell me something while sitting next to me on the couch. He said, "Daddy?" and I turned to look at his cute little face. And before he could get the next words out, he sneezed. In my face. Just full-on: yep, that's where those fluids go. In your facial region, Dad.

First it was Marcus, then Owen, then Erin (poor thing is still down for the count). Now it's my turn.
So I imagine I'll be down for a while (I sure hope I'm wrong!). Fortunately for you, dear reader, I have a full slate of blog posts queued up and ready to auto-publish throughout the week.

Ugh.

Comments

A view from your shut down

The Daily Dish has been posting reader emails reporting on their " view from the shutdown ." If you think this doesn't affect you, or if you know all too well how bad this is, take a look at the growing collection of poignant stories. No one is in this alone except for the nutjobs in the House. I decided to email Andrew with my own view. I plan to send a similar letter to my congressperson. Dear Andrew, I am a professor of astronomy at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics (CfA). The CfA houses one of the largest, if not the largest collection of PhD astronomers in the United States, with over 300 professional astronomers and roughly 100 doctoral and predoctoral students on a small campus a few blocks west of Harvard Yard. Under the umbrella of the CfA are about 20 Harvard astronomy professors, and 50 tenure-track Smithsonian researchers. A large fraction of the latter are civil servants currently on furlough and unable to come to work. In total, 147 FTEs

back-talk begins

me: "owen, come here. it's time to get a new diaper" him, sprinting down the hall with no pants on: "forget about it!" he's quoting benny the rabbit, a short-lived sesame street character who happens to be in his favorite "count with me" video. i'm turning my head, trying not to let him see me laugh, because his use and tone with the phrase are so spot-on.

The Long Con

Hiding in Plain Sight ESPN has a series of sports documentaries called 30 For 30. One of my favorites is called Broke which is about how professional athletes often make tens of millions of dollars in their careers yet retire with nothing. One of the major "leaks" turns out to be con artists, who lure athletes into elaborate real estate schemes or business ventures. This naturally raises the question: In a tightly-knit social structure that is a sports team, how can con artists operate so effectively and extensively? The answer is quite simple: very few people taken in by con artists ever tell anyone what happened. Thus, con artists can operate out in the open with little fear of consequences because they are shielded by the collective silence of their victims. I can empathize with this. I've lost money in two different con schemes. One was when I was in college, and I received a phone call that I had won an all-expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas. All I needed to d

Mahalo.ne.Trash

Search This Blog