a funny thing happened on the way to the dojo

i must admit that it took me by surprise. the speed, that is. the speed with which she has mastered the moves, that is. the kicks and the punches and the katas. and even those ear-splitting primal screams. but what surprises me the most is how seemingly effortless it all appears. for just six months ago she had never even set foot inside a martial arts studio. and now, just six months later, here she was trading blows with kids twice her size who've been plugging away for years. and what's more, she did it all without even the slightest hint of assistance from her parental units, as quite frankly, we don't know the first thing there is to know about the martial arts. but perhaps it is precisely that collective ignorance on our part that lies at the root of our daughter's rapid progression within the sport. for it never ceases to amaze me how i am able to repeatedly trip up my daughter with my own selfish and unrealistic expectations of her. and yet i persist in my insolent demands, oblivious to the harm and the negativity that it generates. no, it never ceases to amaze me.

do the math

thirty-one years ago? it's been thirty-one years since the release of this song? impossible. no, it can't be. i demand a recount. because i remember this song like it was yesterday. and yet the math is inescapable.

"I Got You" is a 1980 song by New England rock group Split Enz from their studio album True Colors. Split Enz's most successful single, "I Got You" was written by Neil Finn and released in January 1980. It topped the charts in New Zealand, Australia, and Canada [citation needed], reached #12 in the United Kingdom, [1] and #53 in the United States. [2]

song released in 1980. calendar on my fridge reads 2011. 2011 minus 1980 is... thirty-one years ago. unbelievable. thirty-one years is enough time to sail around the universe. thirty-one years is enough time to apologize to every one you've ever offended over the course of your lifetime. thirty-one years is enough time to shake the hand of every mammal on the planet. thirty-one years is enough time to sample every single item on the pickle barrel menu. thirty-one years ago? impossible.

swollen bunions, fallen arches and the infinite wisdom of the correspondence webdoc

it happened without warning. without even a hint of foreshadowing really. and as far as i can tell, an event entirely lacking in precedent within the annals of modern medical phenomena. spontaneous human combustion has nothing on this little nugget. so where are the editors of the new england journal of medicine when you really need them? got your attention yet? piqued your curiosity by now? alright then... try this one on for size: when i awoke this morning, i discovered that the cuticle at the base of my left thumbnail had somehow managed to retreat all by itself overnight. yes, that's correct: retreat. as in retract. as in recede. like the tide at sunrise. or sunset. or whenever. bad analogy. um... like the hairline of an aging rock star hidden beneath a crimson bandana. anyhow, the point is that i was taken aback. way aback. and so where does a slightly befuddled middle-aged gent turn when left scratching his head as to the biological wonderment that is his own retreating cuticles? why the internet, of course. or more specifically, to the pages and pages of highly dubious quasi-medical sites that currently clutter the world wide web. and yet, after spending the better part of a soon-to-be spring morning testing the local bandwidth, i am no further along then i was when i first entered my present state of digital disorientation. for there was nary a mention of my present predicament. apparently spontaneous cuticle retraction is treated with an almost blithe disregard amongst the online hypochondriacal community. go figure.

"they look like little moons"