Vacation '09...Part II

Sunday:
Jenne and I slept in for a while before gearing up for her grandma's annual church picnic. We ate some delicious middle-eastern food; roasted lamb, chicken, flat bread, tabbouleh, Diet Coke... As they do with every meal at St. George's, everything was amazing, and I left with a full belly. (Jenne decided not to eat seconds, so I loaded up on my second round, as not to offend the parishioners).
After our meal, we came home and relaxed before preparing our dinner. I can't say exactly what we did between lunch and dinner...which must mean that I was very relaxed.

After grilling another wonderful meal, Jenne and I took Gandhi for a walk by the northern shore of White Bear Lake. Gandhi is getting very good on a leash and doesn't pull nearly as much as she did even a week ago. Gandhi stays on the path now, and tries to refrain from sniffing every tree, plant and weed off to her right. She also contains her excitement of other people to two hurried steps to the left, rather than her former act of jumping and pulling on the leash. Her mommy and daddy are so proud.
Of course, she still gets nervous when cars whip by her at a devastating 25 miles/hour.

Nothing more was done on Sunday. After all, it is a day of rest.

Monday:
Today I went to the doctor for my first physical exam in eighteen years. It was an odd experience for me to begin with, but I was a bit thrown off with the office, the more I looked around. I first noticed a large water color of Mother Theresa and thought, "Hmm...it is a family practice, and I guess she was a very important to the children." After filling out a few forms, I looked for a clock above where I was sitting, and saw a charcoal sketch of Pope John Paul II. A pattern was emerging. Next were a couple of crosses on the wall, then the oil painting-print of Jesus, some Christian-based magazines... I didn't mind, really. After all, I suppose any good doctor should realize that he isn't really in control of his patients' lives. What almost sent me packing though, was the Christian soft-rock that was playing throughout the office. Not just the lobby, but the examination room as well. It was almost unbearable.
After the the doctor and I talked about my potential asthma, my wonderfully normal blood pressure and my predilection toward fainting at the sight (or even thought) of internal organs and blood; the nurse tested my lung capacity, stuck me with a tetnous shot I was out of there quicker than you can cough twice.

Soon after I got home from Dr. Paul Spencer D.O. (what does D.O. stand for?) it was Gandhi's turn for the doctor's visit.
Once again, Gandhi impressed Dr. Arlo Frost and his staff with how adorable, soft, cuddly and cute she is. Gandhi is up to 17.2 lbs., totally healthy, mostly well-behaved and needs only one more round of shots this year. And, she needs to be spayed. On her way out, Gandhi met a ten-year-old Golden Retriever who was at least four times her size. Of course, Gandhi kept jumping, sniffing and pawing, wanting to play with old "Cody." We kept waiting for Cody to give her, what Dr. Frost calls, "The Big Woof!" and make her realize that not every dog wants to be her playmate, but unfortunately, Cody was too compassionate to, and understanding of, our little Gandhi.



Looking for something to kill some time, I made some homemade salsa, but I wasn't hungry enough to eat any. I'll try it tomorrow and see if it's any good. Then, despite many efforts to fall asleep in my La-Z-Boy, I watched an entire HBO documentary on Ted Williams. I don't know what it is about Williams, but there's just something about him that makes me love him. It might be that he is from an era of baseball that I admire so greatly, or that he played his entire career with one team. It may be that he volunteered to fly planes in two wars, while he would've rather played baseball. It might be that he turned down $125,000 in his final year, insisting that he only receive $90,000 (Williams said his performance the year before didn't deserve more than that). It's likely that I am so fascinated by him being the last player to hit over .400 or that he was such a natural, yet aggressive hitter.

But, in reality, what draws me to love Ted Williams, and the story of his life, was how flawed he was. Like so many players of his time period, he was a failure in marriage, a failure as a father, rude to the fans, and all around not very pleasant to be around. It showed that even though so many people loved him as a player, he was still an incomplete man. And he never hid from it, nor apologized for it. He simply did the best he knew how to do, while constantly striving to be the best hitter who ever lived. He did his job, every day, to the best of his ability and never settled for less than his best. When he knew he didn't perform his job to the best of his ability, he refused more pay than he thought he was worth. I admire the human-ness of that. I wish more of our modern sports heroes were admirable in that way.

The documentary shined some light on Ted Williams' later years, when he got old and softened a bit (he was still harder than most men ever are). They showed some small redeeming qualities of Ted Williams-The Man, rather than Ted Williams-Baseball Hero, but never apologized for who he was for most of his life. Williams never apologized for it either, It seems. I suppose people might say that heroes should act like heroes, and never let kids see the negative side of them. I think heroes should also be allowed to be human. I have the utmost admiration for the man's life on the field, and empathy for his life off. Because even though Ted Williams was a troubled human for most of his life, he was still human. And I think he deserves, at the very least, my empathy.