First, Fox News needs to be ashamed of itself.  For that matter, the people who watch it should be ashamed of themselves for supporting such inane fear-mongering.  I lost a portion of my 4th hour yesterday because one student had heard that there was an ebola patient in Detroit and another student heard that ebola was now airborne.  Both got their information from a Fox news station, the airborne scare came from its national news desk.  Both stories were simply not true (although they tried to stretch the truth to make themselves not culpable for the fear that they were spreading).

Second, anyone who thinks that we need to close our borders due to ebola needs to realize that their "logical" suggestion would cause an awful lot more harm than good.  Forgetting that this would be a violation of many people's rights, severely hamper our economy, and cost a great deal of money, people need to recognize that this kind of overreaction actually increases the chances of a serious disease (like ebola) spreading.  Why?  If people are afraid of ostracism, they will hide their symptoms.  They certainly won't self-report them, let alone seek help.  Out of fear of persecution (and often a misplaced sense of invulnerability to disease) these people would not be appropriately treated until after they had been contagious for a while.  Besides, how long will we have our borders closed?  We've known about Ebola for over a decade.

Third, people need to remember the AIDS scares of the eighties.  News agencies were making money hand-over-fist by misreporting to a gullible nation.  It took over a decade for most of the misinformation to finally get cleared up.  Ebola's symptoms DO NOT include coughing or sneezing.  Ebola IS NOT airborne; it can only be passed through contact with bodily fluids (much like HIV and AIDS).  Proper precautions will keep the disease from spreading.

We have more to worry about when it comes to the flu, car accidents, and bathtub falls than we do Ebola.  We must not let fear force us into rash, and even devastating decisions.

My shoulders are sore.

Growing up, I loved spending time hanging from trees, running obstacle courses in my yard, and jumping around playground equipment.  I climbed up the outside of spiral (actually helical, but what's in a name?) slides, dangled from the outside railings around my grandparents' deck, and used any narrow flat surface as a balance beam.  By the time I was in middle school, I felt that there wasn't anything that I couldn't do.  

Today, the closest that I get to the same feeling is when playing Assassin's Creed.  There is a middle-school portion of my brain that believes the actions of Altair, Ezio, Connor, and Edward are realistic, and that (with mild practice) I would be capable of doing the same things.

On Tuesday, I watched as my youngest child had similar thoughts while playing on various playground equipment at both Ella Sharp Park and the St. Mary's school parking lot.  Watching him play with enthusiasm (and still some caution in higher locations), filled me with nostalgia.  One set of monkey bars was built sturdily enough to hold my weight, so I dangled from them for a few moments, quickly coming to the realization that I could not even pull myself up half way to a chin up, let alone swing from one bar to the other.  In my mind, I remembered being able to pull myself up and flip over to the top of the bars.

It seemed so tantalizingly close, but instead I think I might have pulled something.

I have gotten spoiled ... well, more spoiled.  Earlier this year the toilet seat which we had used since soon after buying our house finally cracked and had to be replaced.  As long as I was replacing one, I decided to replace the one in the kids' bathroom since they were complaining about the current one anyway.  For them, since Rowen was in potty-training, I got a more expensive seat that included a built-in potty chair (which he hardly ever used since he insisted on using the "big" seat) and a "no-slam" lid.  Considering the abuse my children put their toilet through, I felt the no-slam feature was a good investment.

A few months later, the cheaper seat which we purchased for our own toilet cracked (please, don't comment).  While some might make jokes about my weight, the culprits included the seat itself, which was not the most sturdy to begin with, and a young child or two who were slamming the lid.  Despite my wife's concern about the cost, I again went with a no-slam lid and a higher quality seat.  Now, I haven't had the chance to use it during cold months, but thus far it is the best toilet seat that I've used.

There is, however, one small problem.  I am in the habit of shutting the lid before I flush, a habit I developed after watching demonstrations of how much fecal material ends up on bathroom ceilings if the lid is up.  Because the lid is "no-slam" (and because I am a bit impatient), I have to use a little more force to get the seat to a spot where I am comfortable flushing.  This does not cause any real difficulty while I use the toilets in my house.  Unfortunately, few other places have no-slam lids, and I now find myself using more force than necessary (or at least not being as cautious) when closing other toilet lids.  I have become a toilet-lid-slammer.

I am guessing that this is why my cheap toilet seat took so much abuse in such a short period of time; the boys were used to the no-slam lid on their toilet and had forgotten that we didn't have one on ours.  I now have to give myself a mental reminder when I go to other people's bathrooms that I need to be careful when closing their toilet seats.  I think that I'm getting better about it, but I still have lapses.  I now find myself wishing that everyone got the no-slam lids.

Ah, first world problems ...

For the first time in over eight years, I will not be teaching a class at Baker College of Jackson in a fall semester.  With my wife's broadening schedule and some changes in my school schedule this year, it was not practical to teach an evening class, and due to lower student enrollment, they are not offering the Saturday classes that I used to teach.

It did not fully hit me until I sent the email declining a class this fall, but I have been at Baker for quite a while now.  I have been teaching classes there nearly every term since only two months after we moved to Jackson.  I have been teaching there since almost a year before Connor was born, let alone Rowen.  When I first started working there, George W. Bush was still President, Jennifer Granholm was in her first term as Governor of Michigan, we had not hit the "great recession," and the first iPhone had not yet been introduced.

I am concerned about how this will affect our overall finances, but I hope that I will see an improvement in my health during this reprieve.  Last year at this time, I was teaching two classes (although one was independent study).  The issue with teaching extra classes during the school year isn't just the class time, but the number of hours that I spend every week preparing for class and grading assignments.  During weeks when papers are due, I often lose the entire weekend.

One way or another, this fall is going to be different than any other fall semester than I've had at Lincoln.  I hope that it works out for the best.

I've been fighting a cold (or perhaps a flu since there are occasional spikes of fever) since Monday afternoon.  Today is the first day that I went without taking decongestant during the day--I still plan on taking some before I go to sleep.  I was able to keep my energy up during the days, as well as the evening open house on Wednesday, only by sleeping through most of the evening on both Tuesday and Thursday.  Finally, I am at a point where I can feel that the cold is nearing its end.

It's at this point in an illness where I usually get a sensation that I call a "cold euphoria."  Basically, despite the fact that I do not feel well, I feel great at the same time.  It usually is the strongest when I am not taking any kind of medication, so I know that medical side-effects are not the cause; however, I will not rule out the idea that it is a symptom of exhaustion.

I have never quite been able to explain the sensations I experience in a cold euphoria.  I feel tired, but the good kind of tired, like after having spent the day applying physical labor to a just cause.  My mind feels unburdened in that hazy way it feels when coming out of a pleasant day dream.  My body, though tired, notes changes in the air, both in temperature and tactile sensitivity.  Basically, I feel like I have come through some sort of trial in triumph and my mind and body are looking forward to a well-deserved rest.

This euphoria can last a few hours or a few days.  I never clearly remember when it starts or when it ends; I only notice it when I am in it.  When in one, I want little more than to wear comfortable clothes and just lay back either sleeping, reading, or playing a low-stress video game.

When I explain this to most people, I get the impression that they have not experienced anything similar.  I figure that they probably chalk it up to another one of my eccentricities.  Still, I wish more people could experience this feeling (without the use of drugs, I should add).

I'm writing this while coughing occasionally due to the stench that has permeated our house thanks to one of our polluting neighbors.  I really don't like it when people burn leaves, and in this case something else as well, in our neighborhood especially.  It's a disgusting practice that is both an annoyance and a health risk.

Even burning only leaves put carcinogens in the air.  Depending on the plants burned, these smoldering fires can even spread toxins that can cause allergic (and even seriously harmful) reactions.  Living plants also pull pollutants out of the air.  When these plants are then burned, those pollutants are released into the air once again.

Unfortunately, our house is in the low spot of our neighborhood.  The smoke from our neighbors often flows towards and then settles in our yard.  On a day like today, where the weather was nice and we could finally open our windows to let in the fresh air, having the house fill with acrid smoke is even more infuriating.  

I'm tempted to go out and hose down the ashes they have left smoking.

I follow a pendulum swing when it comes to my health.  Thankfully, I have been overall blessed with good health.  Most of my health issues come down to elements that are within my control, especially in the realms of diet and exercise.  Unfortunately, that often makes me complacent about my overall well-being.  It takes some sort of outside intervention to push me into trying adopt a healthy lifestyle, and even then my motivation is often short-lived.

Case in point: I was not allowed to give blood yesterday.  This has been the second time in a row that I have been at a blood drive and turned away due to my blood pressure being too high.  When I looked up the numbers online after having been turned away, I discovered that the bottom number was extremely close to an "emergency" situation ... which is probably why the nurse looked so uncomfortable.

I felt terrible.  I was sitting there with the sticker saying "I made a difference" on my shirt knowing that I had to walk out despite all of the information about how much they currently need blood donations, especially O- (my blood type).  Granted, it was the end of the first week of school and I did eat sausages for lunch.  Also, I was worried (as I will be the next time) that I would be turned away again, thus creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.  

I also had to walk by Mr. Ferry, my ninth grade biology teacher and one of the leaders of my junior year hiking group.  I made a bit of a joke to him as I left, but my spirits were definitely at a low point.  I like my life-style.  Sure, I could eat better and exercise more regularly, but I don't want to give up the foods and drinks that I love.  And unless someone decides to pay me more, the stress in my life isn't going to change anytime soon.

For a little while, the pendulum had me thinking about going cold-turkey on many of the foods and drinks that I like.  I tend to be extreme about things like this.  Thankfully, my better angels talked me down and reminded me that the key is moderation, not deprivation.

I had my six-month dental cleaning today.  Everything is fine.  No cavities, no new caps needed, no complaints about my level of flossing or brushing.  My hygienist and dentist are both friendly and gentle.  All in all, I don't dread going to the dentist like I used to as a child.  Granted, it turns out that my childhood dentist believed in a practice known as "preventive fillings."  I think he just wanted to buy a yacht.  I even enjoyed a new flavor of polish: strawberry margarita.  Usually, I just go with cinnamon.

One element that still causes me a bit of concern is that I never can seem to accurately pinpoint where pain is located within my mouth.  When asked to identify a problem tooth, I usually get it wrong.  It's up to my dentist to use compressed air to actually locate the problem area.  Today, he had to sand down a bit of one of my teeth that was knocking against its neighbor.  It turns out that was why I was getting so sensitive to cold liquids on that side of my mouth.

My hygienist always seems surprised, and maybe a bit disappointed, when I turn down her offers to give me toothpicks, dental floss, fluoride mouthwash, travel tubes of toothpaste, etc.  I usually only pick up a new toothbrush.  She doesn't have the type of floss that I use, and I'm not a mouthwash fan.

Still, it was a straightforward and relatively painless trip that was probably duller than reading this post.  Probably ... 

Union-bashing has become much more rampant in the past few years.  Legislation with innocuous names such as "Right to Work" has been passed to actually undermine the rights of the workers.  Even today, a national holiday that is supposed to show the importance of the working class in America, finds many of the workers its supposed to be celebrating still hard at work with little cause for celebration.

Somehow, corporate politicians have led people to believe that safer working conditions, a living wage, and decent work schedules are un-American.  People have voted away their rights to fair pay, affordable education, and healthcare due to fear-mongering and downright misinformation.  Instead, they keep voting for tax-cuts to corporations and the highest paid citizens, the ability for jobs to be more easily moved overseas, and the legalization of environmentally damaging practices.   Ironically, they do so, usually believing that they are voting in their own best interests, even though the only real benefactors have been the richest 1% (not even 10%) of Americans.

I have stated before that there needs to be a Worker's Bill of Rights.  Without this sort of protection, corporations can buy legislation that tears away the rights of most Americans.  Perhaps this Labor Day, people will remember that simple standards such as the 40 hour work week and breaks in shifts longer than four hours were hard fought rights, but they were not meant to be the end (let alone be whittled away).  Maybe we can even remind those naysayers that America's economy improved under these changes to become the dominant economy in the world.

There are parts of myself that I don't particularly like.  This is a familiar statement to anyone who has looked in a mirror.  There are parts of my face, my physique, even my movements that I would like to change or improve.  This idea is not, however, merely limited to my physical person, but to certain aspects of my personality and sometimes even the way that I think.

These, for lack of a better term, faults sometimes repulse me, even though they are a part of me.  Some of them last only for a short period of time, like pimples on my personality.  Others, I have not been able to rid despite decades of trying, like the belly fat of my behavior.  

We are often told that we need to learn to better accept our imperfections, that our individual traits are what make us unique and special among the vast numbers of humans on Earth.  We are told that to hate a piece of ourselves is to hate ourselves.  Yet we are also told to work towards improving ourselves.

It is such a delicate balance.  I need to recognize the importance of accepting myself, warts and all, while still striving to rid myself of said warts.  Can I better myself without loathing the parts I am trying to fix?  I certainly want to try.

A month or so ago, the tiny screw that holds my left lens fell out of my glasses as I followed my father into Best Buy while killing time waiting for Qdoba to finish making our order.  I only noticed when the left lens suddenly popped out of my frames and into my hands that had reacted with a speed I didn't think I still had.  For several minutes, we searched in vain for the missing screw in the massive rubber mats that lay in between the two sets of entrance doors.  I spent the rest of the trip with my frame, still holding the right lens, and my left lens both resting in my shirt pocket.

I often forget how bad my vision truly is.  I don't notice a problem when I wake up and walk around the house before I put my glasses on.  I don't suddenly feel as though I have gone from blind to full-sighted the moment I don my glasses.  Yet, in this situation where my sight was suddenly taken from me away from the comfort of my home, I felt strange and helpless.

I think my eyesight is slipping a bit once again.  However, the last time I thought this, the eye doctor told me that the difference was minimal to the point that I wouldn't notice a difference with new glasses.  Granted, that was a few years ago.  I know I should go to the eye doctor a bit more frequently, but I hate having drops put in my eye (although less than I hate the puff of air that they used to use).

All in all, I am grateful for my glasses and often take them for granted.  I usually only feel inconvenienced by them when I want to put on sunglasses.  However, I recently found a nice set of Cocoon sunglasses that can go over the top of my prescription frames.  They seem to have nice reviews, but we don't have the $50 right now to shell out for something that I wouldn't use that often.

I do wish that the big lens fashion would come back.  I generally like how my frames look, but they do give a more limited field of vision than I would like, especially when reading music while trying to watch the choir director.  Ah well, the sacrifices we make in the name of fashion ... 

A few weeks ago, I managed to smash the big toe on my left foot under our rocking chair.  My foot must have been under the chair when I was using the chair as a support to move around it.  I slipped and put a good deal of my weight on the chair, and thus on the toe.  It throbbed and hurt quite a bit at the time, but I've stubbed my toe before and I didn't think much of it.

About half an hour later, I noticed that my sock had a blood spot forming above the toe.  Carefully removing the sock, I discovered that the toe was still quite tender.  It was bleeding out from under the nail; a large portion of the nail was black and blue.

The next day, puss started to seep out from under the nail.  I trimmed the top edge, used anti-bacterial cream, and put a band-aid large enough to cover it on top.  While it was still tender to walk on, the toe's condition seemed to improve from there.

About a week ago, the nail started separating from the toe.  The left side and the bottom were still fully connected, but the top, most of the middle, and the right edge now had a bit of space away from the toe.  A super thin nail-like coating had formed underneath it.

Today, the nail managed to get some dirt and sock fluff underneath it, forcing me to cut away most of the separated nail.  My big toe now only has a bit of nail at the bottom and on the far left.  It makes for a strange sensation and an ugly-looking toe.

Thankfully, I've had the experience of losing a toenail before, so I'm reasonably confident that it will grow back in a few months.  I just to need to be more careful around rocking chairs.

Two aspects of today's Gospel stand out to me.

The first is that the Canaanite woman's daughter was possessed by a demon which Jesus then cures.  Demons seem to possess people quite a bit in the New Testament.  Were these actual demons or is demon possession equivalent to seizures?  While I believe that demons are very real (if not how they are represented in art) and can affect our daily lives in ways both subtle and overt, there are many medical conditions with highly understandable and mundane sources that used to be attributed to the supernatural.  One way or the other, Jesus heals her and the demon, whatever it might have been, troubles her no longer.

The second is that Jesus looks like a jerk at the start of this reading.  The woman asks Jesus to heal her daughter, and Jesus equates her and her people to dogs.  Now, the woman recovers quickly and, instead of lashing out at the insult, uses his term to justify her petition.  Jesus then praises her faith and does as she asked.  Today's homily says that this shows us why persistence in prayer is important, but I think it goes a step farther:  We need to be prepared for Jesus to challenge us when we petition Him.  Many people turn from God because they prayed for something and it wasn't given to them.  God may have a different path in mind for us than what we plan.

I have had a much busier summer than I had expected.  We recently passed the half-way point of my break, and I can't help but think of all the things that I haven't managed to accomplish.  This seems like a good place to take stock of what I've done and not done as I only have a little over a month before my life goes at break-neck speed again.

I finished (although I haven't polished) the Rosary section on this website.  Considering that I had been planning on doing this for a number of years now, I'm really glad that I got it up and running.

We cleaned out the garage from the garage sale and can now park our cars in it again.  Honestly, it had been long enough that I had trouble parking in the garage again.

I've been writing in this blog nearly every day.  Only on days like yesterday, where we end up busy until later than I expect, have I had to postpone writing the blog.  Still, I've managed to have a blog for every day since I've started.

I fixed and updated the character spreadsheets that I use for D&D (both 3.5 and my home-brewed 3.6), and made them available on Google Docs.

I've been playing tennis at least twice a week with my father.

I even fixed the slide and swing set at my parents' house, as well as set up the beginnings of a play area on the willow tree in their back yard.

And I've seen a lot more of my friends this summer than I have for the last several years.  While the lack of down-time is frustrating my wife a bit, I've been having a blast.

That said, there's still a lot on my list: repair the drain field (in progress), get a cover picture for Dragon Hunter and get the book e-published, write a new story (Vali's Tale), take a load or two to the dump and metal recycler, clean up the basement, go on a trip (currently planned), get Pool of Radiance stuff on this web site, finish converting DQ7 into a D&D adventure, and other things that aren't coming to mind.  I am avoiding working on school stuff even if the dreams have already started.  There will be time enough for that later.

At least I've been getting some stuff done.  This has already been a more productive summer than most of my previous one.  Still, I have some catching up to do.