Bearless

No bears. No rain either. Just a bit of sunburn and sixty five thousand blackfly bites. Mom was less than amused. Captain Oreo and I had a ball. We've decided it's an annual event.

Wet bonding

I'm going to bear country tomorrow with my 4 year old son. Just him and me. The forecasters are calling for buckets of rain, but we've got a good supply of hot dogs and Oreos. I'm sure all will be fine.

Delusions of mortality

There's nothing to focus the mind quite like lying on a table at a medical lab being scanned in various ways by a technician who expresses mild surprise at all the places where I say I'm not experiencing any pain or discomfort. Do things really look that bad on the other side of my skin?

Driving home, imagining all the horrible, quick, slow, and painful deaths that might be just in front of me, I realized the great dilemma: I've had more fun, learned more, been loved more, seen more, and done more in my 50 years than most people do in twice that long. So, if I should draw a bad card now, I should be ok with that, right? But the problem is, if the first 50 were this good, what could the next 50 have in store for me?

Leaving Las Vegas

I have returned with 1. more money in my wallet than when I left, 2. an unbelievable gut pain that is making it impossible to sleep and, for a couple of hours over the weekend, I thought might land me in a very expensive hospital (I wonder if there are slots in the waiting room?). I don't know what's wrong with me yet, but it's a great weight loss plan so far and 3. fodder for a nice article on space, psychology and casino design, if I only live long enough to write it. I really ought to be able to write off this whole trip, but doubt I'll have the gall. If I say any more about the trip, it'll be in the book blog.

Oh, and 4. a nice picture of me with Elvis. Of course.