Two Hundred and Eighteen

 Today I was going through Dada's things with Savi in India and we came across two shirts hung up by Dada from almost 7 years ago. He hung them up in the typical rush of preparing to leave for the United States. The expectation being that there would be plenty of time to take care of all material needs and closing-up-of-the-apartment prior to departing and the truth of being Rushed Rushed Rushed to get the bags packed and get to the airport for that 4 AM flight. 

Those two shirts, hung up by my grandfather 7 years ago had gathered age themselves as their owner aged further and proceeded to outlive his son and subsequently pass himself at the age of 98 a little over a year ago, in a land far from his homeland and people. yellow spots of some odd cabinet discoloration had appeared on the shirt. Puffs of dust arose as I removed them from the hangers. Then, I noted a heft to one of the shirts. 

Taking a closer look, I noted the front left pocket, the pocket which my grandfather forever kept full of tissues and paper towels, to be full of coin. A fistful of 1 and 2 rupee coins filled that pocket. I solemnly showed my grandmother and we proceeded to suddenly sob over the loss of this man who was our quiet patriarch. Our collector of items whether coins, rubber bands, paper towels, and other bric-a-brac. My grandmother's life-partner for 77 years. My first playmate and a solid pillar of my life for almost 40 years. 

We cried. We cried in the way all grieving family members do. In the way all spouses do at the loss of their person. in the way of all grandsons at the loss of their grandfather. The type of crying that can make rough-and-tumble uncles put on a brash front and tell us to stop crying, as he has his own way of grieving. In the way of my grandfather's niece-in-law providing support from the side as she herself admits her own method of grieving over the past few years. 

We cried at the loss of someone who had knowledge of us in different periods in our lives. Those who knew us when we were in our prime. when the youngsters were but spitting up milk and toddling around. The loss of a man who travelled the breadth of India on the rail lines. Who travelled to another country to help his son. Who played Aggravation with an 8yo despite not knowing the rules. Who kept change in his front pocket. 

Two Hundred and Seventeen, Two Thousand & Twelve!

It's the new year! And I'm not inebriated! Really, I'm not--likely I'm helping friends who might be inebriated!

Two Hundred and Sixteen, Carburetors

     Puttering along. No, that would imply I work in a factory or office setting. Unfortunately the profession I'm in is increasingly being run like a factory improving efficiency however the acceptable losses is still considered to be zero. Unlike carburetors–of which the worst case scenario is a flawed shipment costing $$$–people are not expendable. When a carburetor isn't functioning properly the usual treatment is to replace it.  Not so with human beings. There is no reason for a mechanic to be on call to fix a car emergently in a night.
     It is enjoyable though and satisfying. That little part that glorifies in fixing problems while interacting with people burns brightly every day for me. Although every now and then I fix a problem or two and then my patient happens to pass away from something else despite the improvement he or she had shown.
     But those thoughts are for another day.

Two Hundred and Fifteen, Match!

March 17th, 12:00 PM is when I find out where I'll be for the next three years of my life!

Two Hundred and Fourteen, The Spark!

Often I'm reminded by a few friends why I need to stay in my college town. Why? They love me. And I do love them. So what pushes me to go away--far far away? My father went around the world for his education, then career, and brought me into the world here as well. Talking to him teaches me that none of it was preplanned. It just happened that way. With the sole exception of that first foray over here. What spurred him to it? That is what I wonder because I'm searching hard for that part of me that will send me off into the corners of the country. I need to know who I am and cut my own path through this world. I love my friends. At times I feel stifled by that love because I worry about meeting enough people to find some who think like me while hanging out in the same places. I need to get out and away--someplace where I can meet others in a similar boat and we can explore our new boundaries, such as we choose to set.

Another sun-soaked season fades away...

Two Hundred and Thirteen, Departures

I watch as some of my friends in the past month have proceeded to pack up their belongings and either move or prepare to move as their residencies begin, husbands return to jobs in other cities, and simple need to get outta Dodge sets in. Some of our crew here would fight this, the general erosion of our people out of the cracks of the city to other places. I say Go, Go Boldly and announce yourselves. Whether you go simply to the suburbs, to states a goodly drive away, or to the other side of the nation, Go! Chase your dreams and your education and your spouses. If you must return, come home with the knowledge that you lived while you were where you went. And always remember that we all love each other lots and we can draw strength from that wherever we are.

Two Hundred and Twelve, Wildfire

It's amazing how fast news can spread in today's day and age. If we go back simply two generations, news traveled as fast as the post did and even then not necessarily to everyone. First the immediate family would get notice and then they would inform close friends in their locations. Dire news such as deaths often had a travelling family member who would go around telling other family members of the death before everyone went to the town where the person used to live for the funeral and such. Friends of those folks would be brought in to take care of the farms/shops/plants while the family was gone.

Now, less then twenty-four hours after the fact, folks connected online have knowledge of deaths of people they might not have seen in years. Those folks tell their friends who are not online about it and then they end up calling others and so on and so forth. It amazes me the speed with which the news spreads, good or bad. Wildfire.

Two Hundred and Eleven, The Blind Side

WARNING! SPOILER ALERT!

"Michael Oher, you listen to me, all right? I want you to enjoy yourself, but if you get a girl pregnant out of wedlock I will crawl in the car, drive up here to Oxford, and I will cut off your penis."

I thoroughly enjoyed it. Of the whole movie, the part that caught me most unawares was the ending credits.

Two Hundred and Ten, Stagnation

It's not that life is stopping all around, it's just that my personal development has slowed down to a crawl. I see myself as the same person who entered medical school four long years ago. Have these years meant nothing to the personable side of me? Can that side really have remained unchanged as my professional side underwent immense challenges? I look around at people moving forward with their lives--their real ones that matter! and see that I will have to work just as hard at my life as I do for my future career. While I rarely assume things will fall in my lap in most things, I see that in this area I have remained quite naive. Things will work out as they usually do but I will have to help it along a lot. And that means I have to learn, and learn quick.

But what is it I need to learn?

Two Hundred and Nine, Reactivate

[cough] [splutter]

Life happens. More on that at a later date!

Off to Canada for a week and who knows, I might be better at posting up there where the weather is nice....and hot as well!

Two Hundred and Eight, Progress

I know I'm a geek. My time goes into studying for school and Warcraft! On that note, I did want to say what a difference I see in myself ingame from when I used to play to the past few months. As part of a guild working together to beat all the challenges the game throws at us, I have really come to appreciate the bonds you form with your fellow players. Tonight I stayed up 2 hours past my bedtime because were were slowly making progress. We had reached a point our guild members had never reached before by downing the next to last boss in the current end-game content AND began working on our strategy for the final boss. Included below are before and after pictures of General Vezax! I realize you can't really see anything but dangit, I got the pictures on here! I'll see if I can't get on to expand later on.

Before

After

Two Hundred and Seven, Defeat...for Now!

So I admit, I do not have the patience or time right now to tinker on my cpu to figure out why the motherboard's built-in wireless card is on the fritz. So I went out and purchased a new Wireless USB device. I have now returned to the Interwebs not beaten down, but not holding my head high with knowledge of what's going on.

Two Hundred and Six, Scariness

So my computer sometimes decides to not see the wireless card. It's a little scary. The two computers that I have made have both been very special and worrisome. This is interesting only because all my friends' homemade machines work fairly well. Why both of mine would be messed up as they get, I have no idea. The worst part is that I'll just pray and keep using the machine as it throws up signs of machine dementia. No one really has any idea where to go or what to do. All of my friends--even the tech savvy ones--eventually throw in the towel on my machines. Makes me wonder if I should even mess with creating my own computers. It's sad because I get some joy out of creating my personal Frankensteins and that joy is being pulled away from me. As in baseball, the third strike you're out so I'll understand what it means if on my next machine (still some years in the future) I run into the same problem. Only time will tell.

Until then, I'll be bumming the Internet from the Roomie and school as I can. On the plus side, no reason to worry about Warcraft progress!

Two Hundred and Five, The Alaskan is in a Movie

Go watch Up. City of Ember wasn't too bad either. I swear the girl in City of Ember looks a lot like the Alaskan, even if she disagrees! Speaking of, it's her birthday tomorrow, so even if I forget to call her and wish her a happy birthday, I get credit for this entry!...Because I say it is so!...Ok, so maybe not...but at least I put forth this little effort compared to my measly contact with others throughout the year.

Two Hundred and Four, The Pit

I have interesting family dynamics which I might get into more detail down the road but suffice it to say, tomorrow I will enter The Pit and I don't know if I'll ever see the light again.  But as a member of this family, it's my place to try to change people's outlooks and reasonings.  We'll see how the progresses over the next couple years.

Two Hundred and Three, Three Friends

"The three boys, one dark, on e light, and one--for lack of a better word--fiery, do not notice the night.  Perhaps some part of them does, but they are young, and drunk, and busy knowing deep in their hearts that they will never grow old or die.  They also know that they are friends, and they share a certain love that will never leave them.  The boys know many other things, but none of them seem as important as this.  Perhaps they are right."

page 395, Chapter Fifty-nine from The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

Two Hundred and Two, Girls and their Fathers

Reading a facebook post put up by a girl that says she misses her Daddy breaks my heart when I remember her Dad died almost a year ago.

Two Hundred and One, Time's Endless Progression

My world is static to me.  I wake up, go to school, come home, hang out with the same peeps, sleep.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Ever since high school, my life has consisted of this same pattern.  There were some derangements such as weddings or the birth of some new kids or the passing away of some folks but my immediate life has had no change.  At home people still argue a lot and do things the way they want instead of compromising.  At my friend's place, we still get together and play games.  In my college town, I still go out to dinner with people to have a good evening.  I still play computer games like crazy.  I still make mini road trips to see other friends in nearby towns.  

The doc I worked with on my away rotation went through medical school not expecting children since his wife had had extensive radiation for an early cancer and was deemed infertile.  To his surprise, a few years into his established family practice, he had a couple little girls.  He told me how before the girls, time for him was at a standstill.  Now with the little ones, he sees old mannerisms disappearing while new ones begin all the time.  To him time is running rampant and he cannot get it under control again.  He loves his daughters very much but still admits he misses things they used to do when they were younger.  

I don't cuddle up with my dad anymore.  I also don't fall asleep on my grandmother's lap while we watch an evening movie.  I also don't cutely offer to help with cleanup after dinner and instead make sure I do the heavier cleanup so no one else must.  I do still run over to my friends' home but stay much later than I used to.

Tomorrow I go to take another test in a multitude of tests I have taken and that I have yet to take.  After it is over, I will celebrate by either running around outside a bit, paying bills, or playing Warcraft.  Then Saturday I'll drive home for a night.  All of it has happened before and will happen again.

But one day it won't!

Two Hundred, Another List of Memories

• First season of Cylons with a friend
  
• Hearing the tuba again
  
• Spontaneous late-night table discussions with new people and old people
  
• Couch-crashing
  
• Baseball games
  
• Guacamole and taco salad
  
• Brownies
  
• Baking a cake
• Jesus loves this guy!
• A cave
  
• A museum and a shut-down factory
  
• Local eats
  
• Southern drawls
  
• A splinter in a little girl's hand
  
• Extremely thankful patients
  
• Gangrene
  
• Exploration of an old but new town
  
• One skittish dog
  
• One wonderful vegetarian restaurant
  
• Being reminded that time doesn't stop
• Writing that reminds me of my friend
  

One Hundred and Ninety-nine, 1812 Overture

I had a really bad weekend a long time ago.  September 7th - September 9th, 2001: I first got caught for going 30 over the speed limit in a residential zone--a mandatory court date--and then I proceeded to twist my ankle on a putt putt green.  Of course, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that big a deal with the following Tuesday to come but at that point in my life, it sucked.  My ankle healed well enough.  I learned that I really did NOT have the upper body strength to walk all the way across campus on crutches without stopping for a break every hundred feet.  But as the week wore on, I began building up some strength and I managed to go two hundred feet without stopping by the time I finished with them the following week.  The anxiety from the speeding ticket, however, did not cease.  The court date was set for Oct 22nd or 23rd--somewhere around there.  Court was in my hometown, school was over an hour away, I had no car.  Oh, and I never told my dad who pays my car insurance.  Yeah, I was freaking out.  I turned then to those who I go to when I'm in trouble--the Beatnik, Lord Chaos, and the Engineer.  They helped me crack a plan where Beatnik and Lord Chaos' older brother came down Sunday night, took Monday off to drive me to my hometown and court, and then return me to my schooltown later that day.  

The elder brother--Politico for short--and I really grew close that day.  He helped coach me on dress as well as making sure to show the proper respect to the judge.  On the way up north he had classical music playing to help relax me.  It didn't really work.  I was a nervous wreck all the way up.  Getting to the courthouse, we went in and sat down--us in our suits, everone else in their everyday clothing.  I might have been self-conscious about it except again, I was a nervous wreck.  Then he called me up...incorrectly saying my name.  My brain went into auto-pilot as I stood up and walked to the front; I corrected the judge on the pronunciation.  Part of me cringed as did Politico back in the benches (I learned that later).  He spoke the offenses then reduced them on the basis of it being my first one.  I believe I said guilty when he was done talking and he then told me I had the choice of points on my license or driving school to rescind them.  The rest is a blur in the courthouse except for the stop at the payment desk where I shelled out court costs of around $76 from my carefully collected rainy day fund.  Then Politico and I began our trip back to schooltown.

The Beatnik is the English major, but storytelling runs in their entire family.  For some reason, Politico began the story during the start of a Tchaikovsky piece.  Both the story and the music began softly enough up to the point of the cop pulling me over.  There a major musical announcement came forth.  Again the music quieted down and proceeded along with the story in much the same fashion that I simultaneously ignored the situation with moments of utter terror for the next month.  Then the planning stages of the court date were upon me.  Slowly all the pieces began fitting into place as odd as they might have seemed and the situation promised to move forward as smoothly as we could manage.  The drive up to the courthouse was a tense, advice-filled time and proceeded up to the entry into the courtroom.  Then the great battle (ok, this part was slightly off between the story and the music) during which the decisions for my mistakes were made.  Then, as we left, great relief!  Wave after Wave, Bombardment after Bombardment, everything was finishing up and the pounding noise massaged my relaxed self having survived the ordeal.  That song is now forever associated with that event and with the Politico in my mind.  In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal, but to me at the time, it was my world crashing down.

I realized then that if I ever got a chance to do something similar for someone else, I wouldn't hesitate.  The world gave me the company of people I needed at the time and I wouldn't hold myself back for my friends if such a time came for them.

Thank you my friends.