I put on a pot of coffee, fired up my laptop, logged into work, and sent an e-mail to my manager, copying my officemate, that I'd plan on coming in after lunch, in time for our 2:00 meeting.
After lunch, I caught the Wolfline bus into work in order to have more options home at the end of the day. I actually parked at the Avent Ferry Food Lion Park & Ride, nabbing the last available spot on the "outer wall"—the only place you're allowed to park without getting towed. The sun was shining and any remnants of snow totally gone by then.
Our weekly 1.5-hour working team was productive. Food on the table included a choice of Golden Oreo Fun Sticks, Caramel Delights Girl Scout Cookies, and almonds.
I caught the #1 Avent Ferry Wolfline bus home, and after putting my laptop bag and my briefcase in my car, I stopped in the Food Lion for a couple of things. "Welcome to Food Lion," initiated my first "Josh sighting," since he started working there.
Josh is my good (Mostly Social Book Club, and former IBM colleague) friend Sharon's son. I went through his checkout line as much because I wanted to as because there was no line for it. He was both polite and efficient. Two qualities I like in a checkout person.
After a killer salad for dinner, consisting of cucumbers, carrots, onions, celery, mushrooms, shredded Parmesan cheese, and Durn Good-marinated ground turkey, I went to the gym.
I arrived at about 8:15, and although it was still fairly busy for that time of night, it wasn't nearly as bad as Tuesday at 8:00. I did 60 minutes on the cross-trainer, with a total calorie burn of 1077 calories. I listened to the Parent Trap episode of This American Life, whose first of two acts was absolutely fascinating.
It was about a woman, who knew she was dying, who had a young daughter and in the final month of her life decided to write 13 years worth of letters to her, to be given to her every year on her birthday, with one special one just for her wedding day. "At first the letters were comforting, but as time went on, they had much more complicated effects." Very, very interesting.
The prologue was quite good, too, about a boy whose mother set nice traps for him. The act two story, was okay, but didn't engage me as much as the prologue and act one did.
|Parent Trap [Click to listen to the episode.]|
Stories about parents setting accidental traps for their children, and sometimes for themselves, including a story from WNYC's Radiolab about a chimp raised twice—once as a human child, and again as a chimp.
When Dave Hill was in his late 20s and still basically living at home, he hung out with his mom a lot. But once she used particularly sneaky tactics to get him to attend a church fundraiser. (9 1/2 minutes.)
Act One. Letter Day Saint.
Rebecca was 16 years old when her mother Elizabeth died of cancer. But before she died, she wrote letters to Rebecca, to be given to her on her birthday each year for thirteen years. At first the letters were comforting, but as time went on, they had much more complicated effects. David Segal tells the story. David is a reporter for The New York Times. (14 minutes.)
Act Two. The Opposite of Tarzan.
Lucy was a chimpanzee raised in captivity, who adopted a surprising number of human traits. But this proved problematic—in quite unexpected ways—when her adoptive human parents decided that Lucy should be released in the wild. This story comes from WNYC's Radiolab, which is distributed by NPR. Radiolab hosts Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich tell the story. (29 minutes.)
I checked out Trailer Park Prize Night tonight, which was extra to get in due to some "out of town trade"; did I say trade, I meant entertainment. One Sherry Vine out of NYFC.
The lines for drinks at the bar were unacceptably long, and evidently some people thought that the notion of first come, first served, and what a line is actually all about, didn't apply to them.
I got there at about 11:15 and left just as the show started, pretty much wishing I hadn't wasted the five bucks to get in, but glad I only had two drinks worth of calories. That, and seeing Henry, were the saving grace of the evening.