Content-type: text/html Ray Manning

Tuesday, April 10, 2000 7:30 AM

Guess What

I play an ice hockey game on Wednesday night and come away with a very sore calf after the puck hits me beside the padding. This impact should not be as severe as last summer's (when I had the internal bleeding and infection) because the puck hits me in the calf muscle and doesn't pinch against the bone. Time will tell. After the game I start driving home, but don't make it home because it is the last game of the season and the team has invited me to the Caravan (the longshoremen/longshorewomen bar) for burgers and beer. I accept the invitation, but only have 7-Ups. There are no women in high heels or black dresses playing pool this time. When Shirley, the bartender, lines up 20 Kamikaze's for the team (to celebrate their win), I know that it is time to leave. I make it home by 1:00am. Because I am wound up from the game, I turn on the television to wind down. There is a "women in prison" movie on one of the Encore channels and I have a hard time turning the television off. Besides the obligatory knife fight scene, the movie shows a power struggle between the older, hardened prison mama and the newer challenger. When the challenger makes a derogatory remark about the mama's sexual orientation, the mama replies "That's right, b&*$#. I'm the biggest, baddest bull dyke in this prison. I've put my tongue in places you didn't even know existed. So don't even think about f&^%%#* with me." I wonder why such great movies do not win Oscar's.

Thursday I have a hard time staying awake throughout the day. Only the terror of Sonya's meeting or the visiting GSFC customer's questions keep me awake. I do make it through the day - having a lunch/bookstore browsing session with Donna at midday. I come home, lift weights, and start drinking - knowing that I have a three day weekend to enjoy and that I am jumping back on the wagon starting Friday morning. By 7pm on Thursday I am running into walls when walking between rooms.

Friday, avoiding TRW like the plague, I go for a good bicycle ride and then get a million things done around the house. I get entirely through the list of Friday things and actually start in on the list of Saturday things. I have a lifting weights on Friday. Now I'm trying to juggle the ice pack between the calf (ice hockey puck impact), my left bicept (overuse at the joint), and my left wrist (weight lifting accident). I think I'm running out of ice.

I drive down to the Frat House on Friday night. It is a slow night. And I keep pondering the question "What the f%*# am I doing here?" I ponder the question for about two hours and leave. Getting home near 12:30 am.

Saturday, after more bicycle riding and weight lifting (Yes, the wrist hurts like a &^%#@#, but I do it anyway.) and running some errands, I get bored. And I start getting depressed. I have just heard the news that Arthur C. Ruge, the inventor of the strain gage, has died. At the age of 94 in Lexington, MA. I figure the best way to get over my depression is to join a club. So I do. This is a club that doesn't need to know your name, doesn't care what you do for a living or for fun, there are no meetings, and there are no dues. Well, there are dues of $15 each time. I have joined Canadian Club! By 5 pm, after my initiation with Canadian Club, I can barely walk. And I'll start on the wagon tomorrow. But I feel better. The wrist doesn't hurt, the left bicep has lost feeling (because of the ice pack), the right calf doesn't hurt, and I don't even remember what that one guy - who I've forgotten the name of - has invented.

Sunday, after sleeping late, I go for another good bicycle ride in gusting wind and lift weights. (The wrist doesn't hurt because I'm working shoulders and back today, but the left bicep hurts like a $^@*^$.) I head to a coffeehouse to read the newspaper. And get very depressed over today's elections in Peru, the strike in Bolivia, and the long story about Vietnam as we approach 25 years since the liberation of Saigon. I get really mad at myself because I cannot remember the second largest city in Bolivia. I know that La Paz is the largest and that Cochabamba is the third largest, but I can't remember the second largest. I go home and after seeing that the CART race is snowed out (!), I walk Nopester and watch some motorcycle racing from Japan. And am notified via email that my Egghead auction bid for a Pentium notebook computer won.

Monday I am feeling better after the motorcycle ride to work. Because I am a good EOS host, I ask the still-visiting GSFC customer to a) extend his stay a few more days so that he can attend the Long Beach Grand Prix with us, b) rent a bicycle and ride the LA River and San Gabriel River trails with me (because he is a cycling enthusiast also), and c) come with me to the Wednesday night drag show at the Frat House (because ice hockey season is over for the Wednesday night team and I'm now available for such endeavors). I'll let you know which events he decides to attend.