The San Francisco Marathon
August 3rd, 2008- J. Galloway
My nipples were hard. The early San Francisco air was icy. We had a few more hours before the sun would tickle the air and vibrate its electrons. Thus, my nipples were hard.
My nipples were hard. The early San Francisco air was icy. We had a few more hours before the sun would tickle the air and vibrate its electrons. Thus, my nipples were hard.
An intricate filament weaves through the nebulous psyches of Y-chromosome-bearing hominids. A fiber that is as delicate as it is tenacious. I'm talking about, duh, Guy Code.
You know the Wear Sunscreen Speech, right? If not, where have you been? Under a rock buried in the sand behind an outhouse on an island with dark sunglasses at night? Tsk tsk.
The Wear Sunscreen Speech—sometimes simply known as the "Sunscreen Speech", but originally called "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young"—was written by Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich way back on June 1, 1997 as a fictional commencement speech that she'd like to give if she were ever asked to.
For some reason, a mischievous student decided to send the speech around as a MIT commencement speech given by Kurt Vonnegut. Weird, huh? If you've seen that email, now you know who really wrote that speech—Mary Schmich and not Kurt Vonnegut (though Vonnegut could have certainly written something just as witty & profound).
I was moving down to Los Angeles when I got Ray's call. "Hey Mike, want to work for Yahoo?"
I rolled up my window. "What? Did you say Yahoo?" The flat plains of Central California blurred past me as I sped down the I-5.
"Yea. We're looking to hire some developers. Can you come in for an interview?"
"Guess who I saw in the bathroom today?"
"Who?" we asked.
His eyes blazed and he jumped in his seat. We could tell he had something juicy to tell us.
"I just don't get chicks."
With a coffee in hand, I leaned back and regarded my friend. "C'mon man, who really ever gets chicks?"
"Did I tell you about that date I had last weekend? It was with this girl I really liked, but throughout the date, she didn't seem that interested in me?"
"What's that in your hand?" she asked.
"Oh, it's something I got for my girlfriend."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, you are so whipped."
"Dude, you are SO whipped!"
"What? No I'm not. What are you talking about?"
"You just called her for the third time tonight, and now you're going to take off and help her clean her apartment? You didn't even finish your beer yet. Dude, you're whipped!"
Zen is a school of thought, a state of being. A way of thinking. Traditionally, it is a school of Mahayana Buddhism known for emphasizing an acceptance of the present, embracing spontaneous action, and emancipating the self-conscious & judgmental thinking.
For better or worse, its meaning has evolved as other schools of thought have adopted and interpreted it. In the Mike Lee School of Thought, I merely make a contemporary addition to the traditional definition: excising physical belongings and converting them to a non-corporeal form, namely, the digital format. In my geeky way, this is what I call Digital Zen.
"Why are people always trying to brag about how bad their eyesight is?"
Ken adjusted his glasses and shrugged. "People brag about their eyesight?"
My arms flailed about furiously as I nodded. "Hells yea. People are always saying, 'How bad is your eyesight?' 'Well, mine is worse.' 'Oh yea, I can't even see that sign over there. I'm as blind as a bat.' I'm so sick of that."