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This Day in My History


Constitutions should consist only of general provisions; the reason is that they must necessarily be permanent, and that they cannot calculate for the possible change of things.

~ Alexander Hamilton
(the guy they want to bump off the money)

Yesterday's Entries

2000: Gay Pride #1
 Get Rich Quick
2002:  Nothing's Too Good for Dear Old Dad
2003:  Time on my Hand(s)


Breakfast:  Special K
Lunch:  Toasted Cheese sandwich
Dinner:  Chicken


The Elegant Gathering
of White Snows

by Kris Radish


The Italian Job

Buy my stuff at Lulu!



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I don't just "run" around--I prance around and I strike these poses all the time.  It's very rewarding for people who have cameras and want to take good pictures of me.




12 June 2004

I smiled when I got the idea of "H.R. Buff’n’Stuff" this afternoon. For those who never watched (or whose children never watched) H.R. Puff’n’Stuff, the humor will go way over their heads, but it made me smile anyway.

No pain, no gain, they say, and today I began to figure out where the pain is.

Now that Walt and I have open admitted to being "senior citizens" in order to take advantage of the senior couple rate at Physical Edge, we had yet to visit the place. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I had to get back to the gym to work off some of the peanutbutter, and Walt has never joined a gym before and could use the workout too (even if he does get plenty of cardio by biking everywhere. Sigh. I remember when I biked everywhere.... But I digress).

Anyway, we’ve been members for a week and haven’t set foot in the place. Joan has been taking care of her husband, who is recuperating from surgery, so hasn’t been ready to go to the gym and I just never went on my own.

Used to be that I would get up at 6 a.m. and be at the old gym when it first opened, but now, of course, there is this four-footed ball of energy that isn’t going to let me leave the house alone and they have no doggie treadmills, so by the time I get home from walking Sheila, I’m not in a mood to turn around and go out to the gym.

But Walt suggested that we do just that. When I got home from my walk with Sheila, maybe we could go to the gym, since he has the day off today (it being a national day of mourning, and all).

Sounded fine to me.

Sheila and I got up at 6 and headed out to our now-favorite drainage channel. The channel, I’ve decided, is just perfect for her. At least until the creek dries up and she may figure out that she really can climb the hill up to the high road. She’s more or less enclosed for a road that extends nearly a mile yet she can see dogs on either side of her and she gets a really good run trying to chase them, though they can never get to each other. There is really only one place (now) that is a concern and she’s learned where it is. One place where you can easily get to the bike path--but it’s a steep climb for fat old ladies, so once she gets out onto the bike path, it’s a problem for me, but today we started a program to keep her from doing that, and I’ll see how successful it is.

Anyway, Sheila and I walked for about 40 minutes, which I guesstimate is slightly under 2 miles, based on rough car distances going home.

As I got home, the funeral services were starting and, even though I am not one of those in sackcloth and ashes, or out campaigning to put Reagan’s face on every possible surface across the country, still it is history being made and so we decided to stay home and watch the funeral and go to the gym later (which was just fine with me!).

We do do pomp and circumstance well in this country, and it was a nice funeral. I thought Margaret Thatcher’s comments were very touching and I almost kinda sorta had good thoughts about some of Reagan’s accomplishments, though his failings will always overshadow, in my mind, any other accomplishments he may have achieved during his terms in office (and especially, during his presidency, his contribution to the spread of AIDS by refusing to acknowledge it until thousands had already died, and what he did to the mentally ill here in California during his time as Governor.  Read Joan's entry about that--also her entry today, about current government policies).

I watched the ceremonies as long as I could take. Bush the younger does such terrible things to my stomach. I can’t stand his constant smirk, even in times of sadness, and it was obvious that he used the opportunity, without mentioning the situation in Iraq specifically, to underscore his own political agenda. I’m afraid that was when the whole funeral thing lost me and since it was time for West Wing anyway, I turned it off.  Better a noble fictitious president than the idiot we have now.

By the time noon rolled around, Walt was ready to go to the gym, and so we headed off. We worked out for about an hour and Dr. G will be so pleased to hear that I was dripping sweat by the time we left. I’m definitely out of shape and out of practice.

I did 20 minutes on the treadmill, and realized that now that there are all these fancy new machines, I need a teacher to show me how to work all the buttons. I managed to do 10 minutes on the exercise bike, where I could raise the seat high enough that I didn’t have to fully bend my knee and that worked.

Then I did some upper body stuff. My physical therapist told me to start at the lowest weight on everything, even though it would feel ridiculously light on my good arm. I followed her instructions and though I’ve been so pleased lately at the improvement in my shoulder, almost to where I don’t think about it much any more, even the lowest weight on the upper body machines made the pain noticeable. Oh, it was nothing bad at all. But there were some machines I couldn’t do at all, because of the angle. One machine I’ve always worked sitting down and pulling down the overhead bar. But that angle was painful, so I discovered that I had to stand up to do it--but if I stood up, it was OK.

These are all brand new machines, so several are machines I don’t know how to work and relied on the photos that show you how. A couple of them risk jerking your shoulder back if you don’t do it just right and I decided that probably wasn’t a good idea.

I eventually ran out of machines that I felt I could use and we’d been there for an hour anyway, so we left. I have to admit that it felt good to be back working out again. I’ve signed up for an introduction to the place on Monday, so I can find out how to work all the buttons and perhaps get some sort of guidance on an effective program for my shoulder. Then I’ll just have to figure out how I can incorporate a walk with Sheila and an hour or so at the gym into my day!

Get the hook.  The burial services for Reagan were surprisingly touching and yes, I got tears in my eyes.  I thought his children were articulate, genuine, and loving.  I felt sorry for Nancy, who has been so stoic all week long and you know that the picture that is going to be on the front of every publication tomorrow is her breakdown at the casket. (Proving my point, after I posted this, I checked MNSBC and CNN's web sites and guess what is the photo being shown.)

However, the one guy who should have been placed in front of all those canons before they were loaded was the minister (Rev. Michael Wenning) who chose the grave site to make his own personal statement, talk about himself, and even do a Margaret Thatcher impersonation.  It was inappropriate and in very poor taste, especially at the end of what was a very long, otherwise very dignified send-off.


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