Yes, but...

Hello again, good people of the Internets!

Outside a light crust of snow coats the grass. But the robins are out.
An arctic blast found the bare skin between my shirt and waistband. But there's daylight at 6:15 p.m.
My favorite car wash, surprisingly, seems to be closed for the season. But I got an email from a CSA announcing shares for sale.
Apparently it's okay to wear Uggs with sweatpants in public. But folks are starting to talk about the Derby.
February Malaise has become an epidemic among the people I know. But I smelled the beginnings of the thaw.

Pull the comforter up over your head and get some sleep. Eat an orange. Mull a pan of spices (and that orange peel) on the stovetop. Pile your friends into a booth on Wine Night. Wear scarves and hats in retina-searing bright colors that don't quite match. Sit in the sauna for as long as you can stand it. Don't feel guilty for staying home instead of going out. Write letters and mail them.

Hang in there. And if you need help hanging in there, have a Selleck Waterfall Sandwich.

The wisdom of dogs

Somehow, this photo captures how I feel right now.

Yet, so does this one.

The name sounds vaguely racist

For those days when the recumbent bicycle or Segway just won't cut the mustard, behold:

The Yike Bike!

Because holding up a sign that says "I rarely set foot outside my campus laboratory" is way too obvious.

Those nutty Norwegians

Stick this in your pipe and smoke it, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt! Good god, if this guy ever gets married, I hope his wife doesn't opt for a hyphenated last name.

Another Roadside Attraction

I took the long way to and from my most recent out-of-state work destination. The Bert T. Combs Mountain Parkway will take you from Lexington into the heart of Appalachian Kentucky. This time of year is particularly beautiful, and thanks to higher-than-average rainfall, it's very lush right now.

Over lunch one day last week, when I commented on how breathtaking Eastern Kentucky was on my drive down, my dining companion responded with a pretty profound reminder. It would’ve been a much different journey if I’d gone in December. Because under that verdant blanket of trees is a network of tiny villages populated by families who live under the heavy black thumb of coal companies. My friends from Eastern Kentucky are quick to tell me that it’s not all as impoverished and backwards as the media makes it out to be. But there is some truth to the stereotype (the impoverished part, anyway…there are plenty of backwards people right here in the “civilized” Bluegrass region…and everywhere else, for that matter). The coal companies perpetually exploit coal miners and their families, and it’s not going to change until the coal runs out. To say the living conditions are difficult – and miserable – for these people is a massive understatement.

If you’re interested in learning more about the vast divide between the classes in Coal Country, I recommend renting the Barbara Kopple-directed documentary “Harlan County, USA.” It was released sometime in the mid-seventies to major acclaim. A word of warning, though: it will haunt you.

Another thing I learned on my back-roads road trip was that advertising is far more persuasive than that crap along the Interstate. Take the following sign, for example. If I hadn’t already eaten, I might’ve stopped at this place.

I want to see the movie adaptation of THIS one.

I love to curl up with a good book, and my to-read list could keep me curled up for a long, long time. Here's the latest addition to my list (thanks, Jenn!):

This post was made possible by the Brain of Hayseed

Memory is one of those things that healthy people tend to take for granted. People deprecate themselves all the time for being horrible with names or forgetting where they left their keys. But for the most part, most people tend to remember. Especially when something significant happens.

I remember how excited I was when I got my new bike in Louisville on Saturday, having it set up for me, bringing it back to Lexington, strapping on my helmet, and pushing off on my maiden voyage. I only went out for about 10 to 15 miles…around the downtown side streets, then up and over to campus, around the UK Arboretum. Shortly after I left the Arboretum and started for home, I got caught in a scattered shower. I remember thinking that I’d better get my ass home before it started to pour. I certainly didn’t want my new bike to rust!

Then, somewhere close to home, as I was transitioning from sidewalk back to road, I hit a slick driveway. I remember thinking, “oh, this isn’t going to be good.”

The next thing I recall is the squeeze of a blood pressure sleeve on my left arm and the soothing voice of a nurse in the emergency room at the UK Hospital. She asked me what my address was. I could give her the street name but the house number just wasn’t coming to me. Yikes.

That time between hitting the pavement and waking up in the ER is a blank. I had assumed it was because I was knocked unconscious. So I got the ambulance and ER reports, partly because I wanted to know what happened and partly because I wanted to be able to thank the individuals responsible for delivering me to proper care. According to the reports, the EMTs found me supine on the sidewalk with my bike next to me. I was a block away from home. And I was awake. Apparently, I was alert and talking to the EMTs and ER staff. My responses are in those reports.

But for the life of me, I cannot remember laying next to my bike or anyone rushing up to me and calling 911, putting me on a stretcher, inserting an IV, etc. Not that I really want to linger in those moments, but that I can’t recollect them is very unsettling.

The brain is complicated; it can give you a false sense of being in control. For me, it took a sharp knock on the noggin to realize that control is an illusion. Luckily it was a small short-circuit. Small but mighty.

Folks, here’s a proverbial string for you to tie on your fingers: be careful out there. We’re actually quite fragile. And that mental card catalog of yours could easily get knocked over.

Oh, and please remember to wear your bike helmet!

Can you tell I’m getting a little stir-crazy?