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September 30, 2006
Doctor, Doctor.
We had not been married long. Less than a month, I'm certain.
As we lay in bed my wife-at-the-time turned to me and said, "There are still some things I don't know about you."
"Like what," I said.
"Like who your doctor is. That could be important to know. What if I need to take you to the doctor some day."
"If you need to take me to the doctor," I said, "I'll tell you who he is."
"What if you're in a coma or something."
"Sweetie," I replied, "If I'm in a coma take me to the first doctor you can find."
Posted by delmer at 6:56 PM | Comments (0)
September 29, 2006
2181
So there I was, yesterday afternoon, pedaling along. I'd just come to where the road I was on crosses Rt. 42.
Route 42 is one of two-lane roads that shoots through small towns (and some big ones) carrying a moderate amount of traffic that rolls along at 60 mph or so. It isn't terribly treacherous but I can't say I'd want to pedal up and down it all day. As it is, I simply shoot across it, take a left and position myself in the bicycle-friendly berm for a quarter mile or less. Then I turn right onto Converse-Huff and continue on the back roads.
As I started my way across 42 I noticed that one of the vehicles coming from my right -- and therefore a vehicle that would be passing from behind me -- was a semi pulling a trailer. I was pretty sure he'd overtake me before I got to Converse-Huff. It wasn't anything to worry about.
As I approached Converse-Huff I noticed that the rig had reduced speed so as to not run me down. As he was going to make the same right I was going to make I slowed, and stopped at the corner in the grass. I didn't want to hold traffic up on 42 and, well, this guy was working and I didn't think he really needed to be waiting on me. As he completed his turn I got a look at his trailer tag: TNH 2181.
At that point in time I would have bet anything that the rig behind him was pulling a Cornhusker trailer with the tag TNH 2182. I mean, it made sense. Tags are given out in numerical order. If a guy owns ten trailers I'd imagine that he could have TNH 2180 through 2189. I figured the owner of 2181 probably had his guys working together.
(I've often thought that the guys who, back in the early '80s, got the tags 68 ME and 70 ME spent the longest time thinking, Dammit! Missed it by one. I remember passing 69 ME (the corner of Manchester and Dixie Highway ... or that other intersection just up the road on Dixie) and getting the biggest kick out of it. Of course, I was in my early 20's and it takes something like seeing an Ohio tag with WTF DOOD on it to do it for me now; I saw that one about a year ago.)
The second rig passed me. The tag, and I'm sure you won't be surprised, was TNF 2182 on the back of a Cornhusker 800 trailer.
Aha!
To say I followed the rigs to find out where they were going would be giving me too much credit. It would be true, but only because they went up the road about half a city block before making a left. The other day I wasn't able to find the trailer I had issues with because I'd turned the Mighty Schwinn around and backtracked too soon.
Not last night buddy!
I would have zoomed in after the rigs had they been going fast enough to permit zooming. As it was I sort of crept in after them. I parked the Schwinn and strode around the side of the Cornhusker 800 and approached the tractor that had been pulling it. As I walked (purposefully, by the way) I thought about what I was going to say to the driver.
The driver's door was opening as I neared the back tires. He turned toward me as he climbed down from the driver's seat.
OK. It wasn't. But wouldn't that have been cool in a you've got to be kidding sort of way.
I didn't follow the rigs anymore than I had to to get around them. I was a lot more mellow -- not having just had an air horn blown at me and all. And it could have been a different driver. And the rigs had given me plenty of room during our brief stint down 42 together.
And I had better things to do.
(Would you care to know that airhorn is tagged by Ecto as a misspelling and that the suggested replacement is Ohioan.
Posted by delmer at 2:22 PM | Comments (2)
September 28, 2006
Moral High Ground
I ran across this in The Long Dark Tea Time of The Soul, by Douglas Adams.
He stepped out on to the street, where a passing eagle swooped out of the sky at him, nearly forcing him into the path of a cyclist, who cursed and swore at him from a moral high ground that cyclists alone seem able to inhabit.
I read it a while back, not long after Dave at Blogography had an encounter with a bicyclist, and was reminded of it again after my posting of yesterday.
And ... I think it's funny. So I thought I'd share it with you all.
Posted by delmer at 1:30 PM | Comments (2)
September 27, 2006
TNH 2182
At some point in your driving life you will find yourself behind a person on a bicycle who is riding right down the center of his lane or who, at the very least, seems to be taking up more of the lane than you think is appropriate. You will wonder why he doesn't move more to the berm to allow you to pass.
He is probably trying to discourage you from passing him. But why me? you ask.
It isn't about you. Maybe the road is just a tad too narrow to safely allow for same-lane passing and the rider isn't comfortable providing you the extra space that might encourage you to try to pass him in his lane. Maybe the rider has encountered one to many jerks in automobiles and has just quit trying to play nice.
This rider probably started out as a very car-friendly rider.
And then, one day, he was tooling up High Street in Columbus, Ohio. Probably about 1987. Many many many cars maneuvered past him without any trouble. He was very polite ... keeping as far right as possible ... one eye on the parked cars in the curb lane looking out for the person eagerly waiting to open a door in front of him. The whole scenario was just a bit nerve wracking. Probably.
And then someone honked a horn. The rider looked back to find a petite, dumb, blond bitch in an SUV giving him the 'get out of my way' look.
Did you see the part about many many many cars passing successfully? If a petite dumb blond bitch is incapable of driving a vehicle because it's too big -- too freakin' bad for her.
I've always regretted not putting my kickstand down in the middle of the lane and walking back to the woman to ask her what her problem was. Honking is not a help. It's a startler.
I was as far right as practically possible. I was obeying the rules of the road. I had every right to be there. I was making room to pass.
Time would come and go. So much, in fact, that it was last night at 5:50 p.m. on Converse-Huff Road heading east and just before Lafayette-Plain City Road. So, actually, I guess time and distance passed.
Converse-Huff is narrow, but not so narrow that two semis couldn't pass each other in opposite directions if they slowed down and used some common sense. The Mighty Schwinn is big, but not semi big.
I was far right so, what little traffic there was, could pass when the rig -- I don't know what kind of tractor it was but it was pulling a trailer that had Cornhusker on it and spelled out on the trailer as if that was part of the name of the type of trailer. I'd really need to see the back end of this trailer to know if it was the exact same style ... I'll bet that if it isn't, that trailer, the trailer in question could be found at that website. (And that looks a lot like the trailer.)
So, there I was. I could tell by the sound the approaching vehicle made that it was a rig. As he rolled past I became a little bit nervous. And then he tooted his air horn. As you know these things are loud when they're blown in response to your kids making that pumping-arm motion and the noise rolls in through closed windows. They're louder when you're hoping the semi isn't going to crush you and the only thing deflecting the sound is a $30.00 bike helmet.
I was a tad upset.
And this would be a good time to note that had I been riding in the middle of the road the guy would have never gotten around me. He could have tooted all day. I'd have know why. I'd have expected it. I would have not almost crapped my bike shorts.
As the rig rolled by I got the trailer's license number. I don't know why. Just in case. It was TNH 2182. It was an Ohio tag.
We came to a stop sign. The rig was not pulling away from me all that fast. And then, somehow, he disappeared. For a minute I was convinced he'd turned down one of the farm lanes.
I thought back to the petite, dumb, blond bitch and how I'd regretted not parking in front of her and asking her what her problem was.
I turned the Mighty Schwinn around and went looking for TNH 2182. I figured that if the driver was hired help that the farmer he was working for would like to know what the driver was up to -- you know, from an insurance standpoint. If the driver was the farmer himself ... well, I thought that was unlikely, but I certainly wanted to hear his excuse for tooting his horn.
And I was going to punch him in the jaw. And laugh maniacally.
Well, maybe not. But since I didn't find the trailer in question I'm pretty much free to say what I want.
Posted by delmer at 2:49 PM | Comments (0)
September 26, 2006
Wait Wait Don't Tell Me Podcast
You all know by now, of course, that Wait Wait Don't Tell Me has a podcast available from iTunes. I used to download archived shows in whatever non-MP3 format they were in on the Wait Wait website and then convert them to MP3 for my strolling listening pleasure.
The podcast makes this so much easier.
Even if you don't care for the podcast. Even if you don't care for NPR. You should really listen to the August 5th Show. It's a Not My Job best of with Barak Obama, Tom Hanks and that guy who won on Jeopardy for so long ... who is somebody Jennings.
The show always makes me laugh. The Best Of broadcast was funnier than usual.
The episode with Tommy Chong is next on my MP3 player.
Posted by delmer at 11:24 AM | Comments (2)
The Ultimate Prolactin and Testosterone Hormone Overview
(This is something I post in Usenet after each blood test. It is a history of my hormone experiences. This one is current as of the August 23, 2006 blood taking. I'm not going to edit it -- this is the way it appears in Usenet. You'll notice the NPR Podcast post closely follows this posting so that the non-hormone-interested readers will have something to peruse as well; it's just another way I show how I care about each and every one of the WADLL readers. But you know, if you had a hormone problem, you'd be surprised as just how interesting the following is.)
The following is a history of my bloodwork in the time that has passed since I found I had Low T and High Prolactin. I hope the format is OK. If it looks like crap in your reader you can cut and past it into notepad using the courier typeface.
DATE TOT_T FREE_T %FREE_T PROLACTIN
-------------------------------------------------------------
Jul01 147 (300-1000)
Oct01 350 (300-1000)
I had been on Androgel for 4 weeks.
Jun02 36 (300-1000)
I had discontinued Androgel in November 01
Jul02 146 (300-1000) 56.2(1.6-18.8)
Aug02 122 (241-827) 3.39(5-21) 2.78(1-2.7) 65 (2.1-17.7)
I weighed 354
Appt. with endo
MRI Turns up two small tumors on pituitary
Start BROMOCRIPTINE (09-03-02) 2.5mg nightly
Nov02 138 (241-827) 3.39 (5-21) 38 (2.1-17.7)
BROMO bumped to 5mg nightly (11/14/02)
Dec02 207 (300-1000) 3.70 (8.7-55) 39.3(1.6-18.8)
Start DOSTINEX (12/18/02) .25mg twice weekly
I weigh 370 pounds
Jan03 153 (241-827) 4.10 (5-21) 46.3 (2.1-17.7)
DOSTINEX bumped to .5mg twice weekly
Mar03 32.1 (2.1-17.7)
DOSTINEX Bumped to .75 mg twice weekly on 3/7/03
Jun03 230 (241-827) 4.00 (5-21) 24.4 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 330
DOSTINEX Bumped to 1 mg twice weekly on 6/9/03
Oct03 347 (241-827) 5.69 (5-21) 1.64(1-2.7) 22.2 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 308
Feb04 328 (241-827) 20.1 (2.1-17.7)
DOSTINEX bumped to 1.5 mg twice weekly on 2/25/03
Jun04 392 (241-827) 10.33 (5-21) 2.65(1-2.7) 15.9 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 285
Oct04 454 (241-827) 11.12 (5-21) 2.45(1-2.7) 12.8 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 269 pounds
Feb05 464 (281-827) 15.73 (5-21) 3.39(1-2.7) 11.5 (2.1-17.7)
Jun05 10.1 (2.1-17.7)
Oct05 563 (281-827) 9.7 (2.1-17.7)
Mar06 8.9 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 249 pounds
My Dostinex was decreased from 1.5 to 1.25 mg twice wkly
May06 7.3 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 238 pounds
Aug06 706 (241-827) 7.1 (2.1-17.7)
I weigh 229
Dostinex decreased from 1.25 to 1.0 mg twice wkly
Dostinex is hard to find - I’ll be taking Par’s generic
August 23, 2006 Notes:
I turned 46 on August 23rd. What better way to celebrate a birthday than going to the Endo and having some blood taken? This blood was drawn on a Wednesday morning … about 24 hours before my next dose of Dostinex.
I’ve dropped 20 pounds since my March 6 visit to the endo (The May 12 notes came after a trip to LabCorp to have blood tested between endo visits).
I have recently read some posts in a couple of Pituitary Message Boards about people having trouble losing weight (or reporting unexplained weight gain) while their prolactin is high. The postings I read were made by women; I don’t know if the weight problem I had was a low-T or high-prolactin thing … probably a bit of both. I am convinced that the trouble I had losing weight was hormone related.
I know I keep moving this date around, but I honestly think I’ll have the gyno surgery after my kid’s fall soccer is over.
If I had a prolactinoma - a prolactin secreting tumor - Dostinex might shrink the tumor. My endo isn’t sure I have a prolactinoma - he knows the tumors are the problem, but he isn’t sure they are secreting prolactin as he would have expected it to be higher than it was if this were the case. So, meds may not cause tumor shrinkage in my case.
Dostinex is currently under a recall of some sort and on backorder. In December of ’05 Par Pharmaceutical came out with a generic and I’ll be taking that.
With a decrease in my meds, from 1.5 mg twice a week to 1.25 mg twice a week, my Prolactin dropped from 8.9 to 7.1 (2.1-17.7). My T is currently 706 (241-827) up from a low of (post-Androgel use) 36 (300 - 1000) that I adjust to 29 (for the 241-827 scale … I really don’t know how accurate that is). The more common (non-Androgel-influenced) low was 146 (300-1000) that I scale to 118 (241-827 … again, not sure of the accuracy.)
May 12, 2006 Notes:
My Dostinex was cut back to 1.25 mg twice a week in March. Blood was drawn on May 11. I had last had Dostinex on May 7 - so I was as far between doses as I get. From March 23rd to May 12 I dropped 11 pounds. Shirtless the gyno is spectacular and I expect to have it addressed fairly soon; I’d like to go swimming with my boys this summer.
Regarding my gyno, and I don’t mean to brag here, but if you go to:
http://www.webplastics.com/male.htm you’ll see some samples. I beat either of those guys.
March 23, 2006 Notes:
This blood was drawn Thursday morning before I had taken my Dostinex. I take Dostinex Sunday and Thursday - so this would have been at the tail end of Sunday’s meds (a true wordsmith would have said that better).
What do we know? Without any change in my meds my Prolactin continued to drop. It’s gone from 15.9 to 8.9 while I’ve been taking 1.5 mg twice a week.
I’ve dropped 20 pounds since October of 04. I’ve dropped 16 pounds since October 05. Which gives me a loss of 4 pounds for the period of time between Oct 04 and Oct 05. Roughly speaking, I dropped 60 pounds the first year, 40 the second, and 20 the last 1.3 years; 16 the past five months.
Even though I lost just four pounds over a 12-month period I did drop several pants sizes. I wish I would have kept track of that.
The weight is important as I thought my problem, back several years ago, might be weight related. Also, for the longest time, no matter what I tried I couldn’t lose any weight, and what I did lose came back far too easy. Lately I just accept the fact that tomorrow when I wake up I’ll be just a bit smaller than I was today.
I met with a plastic surgeon in November to discuss gyno surgery.
*** Notes from October 05 and before ***
What’s New (from the post 4 months back): I’ve been taking 1.5 mg Dostinex twice a week since February 2004 - in other words, the last 5 blood tests. My meds haven’t changed but my condition continues to improve.
My weight hasn’t changed enough to mention. I continue to go to the gym. I have dropped a pants size. I assume I have a bit more muscle. I guess that would make sense.
I put this together to track my progress and thought I'd post it just in case it would be of interest to others. I don’t think I’m fascinating -- I just know that when I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me I read everything I could find. Maybe this will help someone.
Regular readers of the group will know that I have trouble being concise; in keeping with that tradition a boatload of text follows.
In July of 2001 I found I had low Testosterone: 147 ng/dL (scale 300 to 1000). Without doing any additional bloodwork my Primary Care Physician prescribed Androgel (Sep 2001). I don't recall the dosage - it was one packet, which I believe is 5 grams. After a month my T had climbed to 350. I can't say my sex drive went through the roof, but there were times during the day that I could feel "stirrings" for no reason - not I-need-to-have-sex-NOW! stirrings ... just something new going on. I told the doc I really didn't notice a big increase in my sex drive. He upped my prescription to 1.5 packs of Androgel. I applied it for two more weeks and quit as I hadn't felt I'd adequately researched the problem.
I thought some of my problem might be my weight. I weighed something over 360 and thought that being fat might cause low T. In January I started going to the gym and made a great effort to drop some weight. At some point I picked up Lou Schuler's "The Testosterone Advantage Plan," and tried to improve my condition through diet and exercise. FWIW, Schuler makes no claims that diet and exercise will cause dramatic leaps in Testosterone levels such as I needed. Likewise, obesity can affect T levels but, again, probably not to the extent I was being affected by something.
I had a physical on June 7, 2002. I went in feeling pretty good. I felt I had more muscle mass (even though I was still a big fat guy), as I was stronger and as I said, I'd been paying more attention to what I ate.
The doc did some blood work. And the results: My cholesterol dropped
to 187 (from 199) and my Testosterone dropped to 36 (that is not a
typo: 36) on a scale of 300 to 1000 being normal. This would have been 11 months after I'd been diagnosed with low T and about 7 months after I'd discontinued use of Androgel (I started Androgel in September 2001 and used it for 6 weeks. So, I should have discontinued use by November. I don't have solid dates.)
Could Androgel use have caused my body to quit T production for more than 6 months? Was the test wrong?
My Primary Care Physician suggested I start Androgel again. I had stumbled across ASI and asked for the following bloodwork based on info found here: SHBG, FSH, Testosterone, Estradiol, Prolactin, TSH, LH, Free T, Total Estrogens and DHEA.
My PCP was initially reluctant to order the bloodwork. I can't really blame him; docs must get tired of patients coming in self-diagnosed based on things they see on TV. After I asked him how long he'd been my doctor ("A long time," he said) and how often I came in ("Hardly ever") he consented. My T came in at 146 (300-1000) and my Prolactin 56.2 (1.6-18.8). So, a month after I had a reading of 36 I'd rebounded to my pre-Androgel levels. Again, was the 36 test wrong? Was it just a timing thing?
Following the T reading of 36 I'd made an appointment to see an Endocrinologist; the appointment was set 3 months out and I asked to be put on a cancellation list. I got a call from the endo's staff just a day or two after the above bloodwork was done. (The July 02 and August 02 bloodwork are about a week apart.) I was able to see the endo in 6-weeks time rather than the original 3 months.
The endo ordered an MRI; I had the MRI in August and received the results 9/3/02. It turned up two small (3 and 5 mm) tumors on my pituitary gland. (During a later appointment my endo would tell me that while ("whilst," for some of our international readers) the tumors were certainly the cause of my high prolactin, he wasn't certain they were prolactin-secreting tumors; he would expect my prolactin to be higher if they were. In other posts I've stated I had 'very high' prolactin. Well, I've since run across folks with much higher prolactin levels than I have. So, mine are just high while theirs are ungodly high ('wicked' high for the New Englanders.)) I remember my weight at this time being 354 as the table-weight for the MRI was 350 … the tech put me on the table, but the fit was going to be such that I was eventually sent to an open MRI. (As an aside, on TV an MRI normally takes about as long as a commercial for Chevy Trucks. The guy goes into the MRI. You see a truck commercial. The guy comes out. In real life they are 30 minutes or so. I guess it wouldn't make for good TV to show the whole thing. And yet, Wife Swap is still on. Go figure.)
My endo prescribed Parlodel (Bromocriptine) on 9/3/02. I took it at bedtime - 1/2 pill for the first two weeks and increasing to a full pill after that. Pills were 2.5 mg. Dosage was doled out like this to help the body adjust and avoid any side affects.
During the time I was on Bromocriptine I forgot, twice, to take the dose at bedtime and instead took it the next morning. I had a bit of nervousness and light-headedness both times. Nothing that would keep me from taking it during the day again - just enough so that I knew something was different.
November 6, 2002 I had my first visit to the endo after starting Bromocriptine. My T had gone up to 138 (241-827) and my Prolactin had dropped to 38 (2.1 -17.7) My endo doubled the Bromocriptine (from 2.5 to 5 mg nightly).
In December 2002 (12/18/02) I started taking Dostinex. I was started on 1/2 pill (.25mg) and eased up to a full pill (.5mg) in order to allow my body to adjust to the medicine and to minimize side affects. I would take (and continue to take) Dostinex twice a week.
According to: http://www.pfizer.com/download/uspi_dostinex.pdf
dosage should start at .25 mg twice a week and may be increased up to 1 mg twice a week according to the patient's serum prolactin level. I currently take 1.5 mg twice a week, so I'm a bit past the norm. Another site I visited suggested a person's body weight may affect the dose of Dostinex needed.
The PDF referenced above lists several adverse reactions that may occur. Twice while taking Dostinex I developed nausea and in both cases thought I was getting the flu. Shortly after the flu thought passed through my mind I remembered that I'd had Dostinex earlier and that I might be having a reaction to the medicine. I was right in both cases; the flu never hit. I haven't had a negative reaction of any sort in well over a year.
In previous postings I remarked that despite the fact I had low T I didn't seem to suffer from any of the conditions associated with it aside from low libido. Looking back, that was not the case.
ED:
I mentioned early on that I didn't have ED. That was not the case. I had sex so infrequently that I didn't notice. Any performance issues I had when having sex (and I had them) I attributed to other factors (stress, being tired, etc.).
Depression:
I certainly had depression. I didn't recognize it until it was mostly over. I probably still have some. The gyno is enough to cause it.
Weight Gain:
Let's face it people, Ethiopians with hormone disorders don't balloon up to 370 pounds. I've got to admit I had some fun putting a bit of the weight on. It did seem that I went from 330 to 360 almost overnight though, without any big lifestyle changes. And actually, after 308 I sort of lose track of things (I was in a 30-and-over basketball league at 308). When I started trying to lose weight I found it very hard to do and impossible to keep off. I had dropped to 354 for my first MRI (8/02) and was at 370 in December. (That is not a solid 370. We have a medical scale at work that goes to 350. With some measuring I figured that pushing both weights on the scale to their limits equaled 363 lbs. When I stepped on the scale I 'judged' that the speed with which the weighing mechanism moved to its upper limit - and the accompanying thud it made - equaled about 7 pounds. And 370 is easier to remember than 368.) What I do know about my weight is that just under two years after starting Dostinex, I've lost 101 pounds.
Life in General:
I lacked a "lust for life," as another poster said. I was sort of blah about a lot of things. If you've listened to the Testosterone episode of This American Life I was sort of like the guy in the first segment. He suggests that while he was blah, there was a peace that came with it. Our experiences are different in that he didn't have three small children to look after and his significant other lived out of state and visited only on weekends. He realizes his experiences differ from the vast majority of others with his problem.
His comment "it doesn't matter if you have nothing, if you want nothing," is reminiscent of a something I used to say: Not having sex when you don't want sex sure beats the pants of being 18 and wanting sex all the time and not being able to get it.
You may be allele to listen to a Real Audio recording of the above at:
http://207.70.82.73/pages/descriptions/02/220.html
If not you can buy it at www.audible.com for $3.95.
Gynecomastia:
I've got a nice case. It only gets better (that is, more noticeable) as I get thinner. I will have to have this corrected surgically.
How did I miss the warning signs?:
Well, aside from the weight gain I didn't recognize any outward signs. And the weight I attributed to other things. Inability to lose weight I thought was age-related. I had never heard that men could have low-testosterone problems so it was nothing I considered. I thought the gyno was fat-guy-flabby-chest.
I realized I didn't enjoy things as much as I used to, but thought it was stress and would eventually get better.
I compare the whole episode to buying new tennis shoes. Each day you wear your sneakers they break down a little bit and don't feel as good as they did the day before. But, the breakdown is so gradual that you don't notice. At some point you buy new shoes and when you put them on your realize just how much better they feel than the old shoes do - not that you ever noticed the old shoes feeling bad.
I don't recall going to bed one night feeling great and waking up the next day not feeling great. At the time my problem was developing I had three little boys, and for years (literally) neither my wife nor I were getting much sleep. One of us would sleep in on Saturday, the other on Sunday; those were our catch-up days. When the time came that everybody was sleeping through the night - my wife and I included - I probably felt better than I had, but not as well as I should have. I just didn't notice.
Now that I feel better, I can see just how bad I felt.
Today -- Overall I think I handle day-to-day life better. I think I enjoy things more. I feel more relaxed.
I may still have some ED. I don't know. And it may be caused as much by my mental state as anything else right now. I am recently divorced (Isn't that how life goes … just as your bloodwork starts coming back better, your test facility divorces you. <- Yes, I've made that joke here before. But, I like it.), and, like I said the gyno is a bummer.
Dostinex vs Bromocriptine:
Bromocriptine did almost nothing for me. I've read other posts in which is it very effective. I've not had an adverse reaction to either Bromocriptine or Dostinex past those noted above - and none were severe enough to warrant concern.
I paid $7.00 for each prescription of Bromocriptine. Depending on the number of pills I received, my insurance paid between $46.99 (30 tablets) and $98.74 for 60 tablets. About $1.76 per tablet.
I pay $45.00 monthly for Dostinex. My insurance, for 25 tablets, pays $730. The cost per pill is $31.00.
Kroger was kind enough to print out my prescriptions covering my Dostinex and Bromocriptine. Thus far my insurance carrier and I have paid $13,616 for both medicines. Mostly Dostinex. Mostly my insurance carrier. (Going back to August 2002) [Today is 10/19/05: If that figure was current 4 months ago then it would now be closer to $16,500)
Below are links to some of the posts I found helpful. When I found I had low T I read through everything I could find. Even the things that would eventually turn out to not apply to my situation contained a lot of helpful info.
In cases where I reference a post I made, my questions aren't as helpful as the answers provided. As you Google the Groups click the Complete Thread link to see the replies associated with the link below. (The link I provide is shorter than that that brings up the entire string of related posts)
T, Obesity and Ramblings (My first post to ASI)
http://groups.google.com/groups?hl=en&lr=&selm=ps9rjukkp6svgdni16qn6kjgt9s952oqgs%404ax.com
Sin Loi's (our current Muerta) post responsible for the 'lost lust for life' comment
http://groups.google.com/groups?hl=en&lr=&selm=9ffQ8.86805%24nZ3.39237%40rwcrnsc53
Another poster with pituitary tumors - prolactin as high as 166
http://groups.google.com/groups?hl=en&lr=&selm=tqumnuo1o89jjusgl5ms9f3ji961u8mlck%404ax.com
David Zolt has a series of primers that can be found in Google Groups. There are 7. Google the Groups using the following string - change the 1 to 2 through 7 to find them all:
david zolt + "1 of 7" group:alt.support.impotence
Sometimes I feed the trolls. But just for fun. Someone in the group once pointed out that you got to have a sense of humor when your Dick doesn't work. This is one of my favorites. (Is it in poor form to think the things you say are funny?)
http://groups.google.com/groups?hl=en&lr=&selm=b060d4fb.0404271144.19cca16a%40posting.google.com
Don't forget to pick up a copy of Dr. Eugene Shippen's book, "The Testosterone Syndrome." Available at Amazon.com
Posted by delmer at 7:38 AM | Comments (0)
September 25, 2006
Bicycle Fact Roundup -- for lack of a better title
Let's pause and take a moment to reflect upon what we've learned this year about bicycling.
Bike Shorts
Sure they look goofy but they are very comfortable. I bought a cheapo pair for $29.00 and am impressed with just how much they improve the riding experience. The material wicks the moisture away and the extra booty padding, well, keeps the booty from getting sore. The extra padding also serves to enhance the line of a man -- which is good as, if you were all-of-a-sudden stripped naked out of your shorts the way they fit sort of promotes shrinkage and mushage. The overall elasticity makes bicycle shorts the ideal dress item for men considering becoming exotic dancers -- you'd be able to stuff about ten thousand dollar bills down these things. (I'll bet if you stuff the first one hundred or so down the front part ... you know, the package area ... that the last nine hundred dollars will come in pretty quick. I base this on the theory that the female exotic dancers with the larger wazoobies (to recall an expression from eighth grade) probably bring in more tips; it only makes sense that the males with the larger-appearing packages would, likewise, do better. In a group, women exhibit the same type of herd mentality that men do in groups as small as one.)
Bike Chain
I replaced mine to correct some sort of clanking sound my bike was making. The clanking sound didn't go away but another, that I thought was just the noise a bike made, did. I believe, and the engineers among you feel free to jump all over me, that a chain is designed so that as that first tooth finds its way onto a chain hole each and every other chain hole -- and please forgive my technicalness here -- lines up automatically over a tooth. My chain was worn enough at the pins that it was a little longer from center of a chain hole to center of the next chain hole. So, rather than subsequent teeth being lined up over the next hole, the chain was actually sliding down on each tooth to find its home. This caused more friction, more noise and, ultimately, this poorly constructed paragraph. (Yes. I know. The first one wasn't a prize either.)
Holes in Inner Tubes
It would seem I can't fix one to save my life. Earlier this year I patched a hole in the sidewall of a radial well enough that I was able to drive the minivan down the road a (very short) spell so that I could jack it up on a concrete pad instead of a grassy area -- but -- I can't seem to patch a bicycle tire in a way that lasts more than a day. I carry an inner tube with me when I bicycle.
Handlebars and Seat Adjustment
My first fifty-mile ride about killed me. It wasn't good for you, either, as you had to read about me bitching about it. As it happened my handlebars were too low. Based on what I've read a seat is typically level with to two inches higher than handlebars. Four inches higher for those wanting to be truly aerodynamic. I want to be truly comfortable. My handlebars were four inches lower than my seat which led to a lot of weight on my shoulders and some soreness in my neck from straining to look forward. In order to raise my handlebars I had to buy a new goose neck.
Snacks
As a rule of thumb you should try to consume 60 carbs per hour. Also one bottle of water and one bottle of sports drink. I don't know how big the bottles are supposed to be so I down about 750 ml of water and whatever size Gatorade I buy that fits in my water bottle cage. I've added two dual cages and can tote around four bottles of fluid. Ahh ... I think, in the past, I've referred to my water bottles as one-liter in size ... I'm pretty sure they're closer to 750 ml. I'll leave it to you to make mental corrections regarding any entries you've read regarding this. For chewables, I take Clif Bars. And, of course, I'm not above stopping at a restaurant or ice cream place.
Bike computer
My bike computer and my GPS do not agree with each other when it comes to speed and distance. The bike computer is .4 mph faster than my GPS. I've adjusted my bike computer settings so that it more closely agrees with my GPS. On a ride with two buddies we had between us two GPS's and two bike computers. The GPS's agreed with one another ... my adjusted bike computer was close to agreement ... the untweaked bike computer had us going faster and farther than the GPS's.
Winter biking
We'll have to see how it goes.
Misc
The other day I saw a group of folks going out on a big ride. One of the riders had a Miami University jersey and bike pants. If checked the Miami stuff-for-sale website and didn't see it there. Maybe it was a MU Team thing and not available to the general public. If you happen across these items ... let me know.
Posted by delmer at 10:57 PM | Comments (1)
September 24, 2006
The Way Back Machine
Way back, before What's a Delmer Look Like became non-stop blathering, it's purpose was to keep my friends and family current with respect to what my kids were up to.
(Really, there's a good chance that if I went to check the accuracy of that statement I'd find I was wrong. I do know that the original Delmer Dot Com existed for that purpose. I'm guessing that, as Movable Type makes updating pretty easy, that this site never held too true to that thought.)
In any case. We'll pretend.
Here's some photos taken on September 14. A wise person will note that the picture names suggest they were taken on September 23rd. A wiser person would know that I made a mistake when I named the files for this upload. The regular readers among you will know I have no intention of correcting that error.
Sammo makes a move
Sammo as goalie
Showing some hustle
Happy Jack
Jack on the field
The water jug on Jack
Haydn's backside
Dolphins
More Dolphins
Haydn's frontside
Haydn
Posted by delmer at 11:51 AM | Comments (0)
September 23, 2006
Summer Party
These photos are from the Vanner Summer Party several years ago. All of my boys were there but, for some reason, these shots feature only Samson.
Posted by delmer at 7:50 PM | Comments (0)
September 22, 2006
O is for Oatmeal Raisin
It probably takes just a moment or two for new readers to realize just what a manly man I am.
I'm certain that, should this be the first entry a person happened across, my command of the English language is such that the new reader would, by now, be sitting bolt upright in his/her chair and exclaiming, as much to themselves as possible and yet not even coming close at all to succeeding, that I am most certainly a manly man.
My god, they'd exclaim aloud though, again, trying to whisper, sort of, look at that first sentence. Twenty words long and most of those word contain more than three letters! Why, he hardly uses any of the same words more than once! And the words he does use more than one are very short. Articles mostly. I'll bet he even realizes they're articles. He is truly a manly man.
The rest of you probably appreciate my manliness more on a subconscious level than anything else. You know it's there. You sense it -- sometimes like the sun warming you on a chilly fall day ... sometimes like a pebble in your shoe ... you feel it, it makes you feel different, sometimes in a good way ... sometimes not. You just don't always know what it is. For you, dear not-first-time reader, I've grown a little concerned.
The newness of appreciating my manly-manness has worn off. You've grown numb. Just as the bouncer at the local strip club no longer sees the nude gals on the pole before him (I got this from a Carl Hiassen book) you no longer get the in-your-faceness my manly manness provides new readers. The thrill is kind of gone. You, long ago, quit sending me Oatmeal Raisin cookies. You blame yourself.
Let me assure you. It isn't you. I have failed you. I blame me. (And the Bush administration -- but that's just reflex.)
This weekend that ends. Saturday and Sunday I will prove my manly-manness in a way that will be unshakable. In a way that will never find its way into your subconscious. It will always be there -- in your face -- like a mustard stain on your pastor's shirt.
Today I make a promise to you. This promise will frighten some. Many of you will worry for me -- about my sanity and safety. For, this weekend I will attempt something ... NAY! ... not attempt ... ACCOMPLISH something that even David Blaine has not been able to pull off.
By Sunday night, and this is a promise I make to you all, I will -- and I quote the immortal Samuel L. Jackson here -- have my mini van parked in the motherfuc*in' garage.
Posted by delmer at 6:43 AM | Comments (3)
September 21, 2006
Priorities
Doug had a notebook on the production floor that was used as a diagnostic tool for one of our products. The notebook was mostly brand new.
He came to me one day and asked that I do some kind of backup on it -- just in case something happened. I made a mental note to address it.
A week or so later he reminded me again. I made another note and formulated a plan that required a second notebook drive and software.
I was pretty sure I'd get to it the upcoming Friday after 2:30, when the notebook was shutdown for the weekend.
Something came up and I didn't get to it.
Then we started ripping cubicles down for new carpet. A new workstation was ordered for engineering (it will celebrate 30-days of sitting in my floor at the end of this week), a new PC came in for production (it was finally turned on yesterday), new PCs came in for sales and I made a trip offsite to set up a home office. Cubicles were rebuilt. More were torn down. An I've never seen a printer issue like this before problem came up (A network printer failed, then another and finally a third. One used an HP print server which printed via a queue on the server, the other two used Intel print servers that did not queue to the Netware server. Two printers -- one the HP/Queued printer -- failed shortly after I'd get them going again. After the office was rebuilt I eventually deleted the Netware printer object and recreated it and the queue. I also replaced the HP print server -- but only because the power supply was mislaid during the moves ... I expect to find it this week. I have not had a printer issue -- past people bitching about not having the super fastest printer right next to them -- since the cubes went back up.) Etc.
The point is, the list of things to do kept expanding and priorities kept shifting. The notebook that needed backed up -- well, it was mostly new. What could possibly (likely) go wrong? We had all the install software on hand to reinstall if something happened ... it would just take more time to get it going doing things that way.
Saturday I spent some time VPNed in doing some work on our Oracle database. The same Sunday. Monday night too.
Tuesday morning the mostly new hard drive in the mostly new notebook died. This immediately moved the notebook to a position in which it shared the #1 spot with respect to priority. I rebuilt it while data moved into our Oracle test environment.
Dammit.
So close ... and yet so far.
The Dune Buggy has nothing to do with this post. I just think entries look cheerier with graphics. This photo was taken at the American Legion Cruise In that was just up the street from me in late August.
Posted by delmer at 7:46 AM | Comments (4)
September 20, 2006
Not that there's anything wrong with that
Let's suppose you read the following entry from the other day:
This is a story mom and dad recently told.
Up until the time I was 4-years old (and some change) we lived in Middletown, Ohio. This would have been 1964.
Across the street lived a little boy about my age. His name was Steevie.
One day Steevie dropped by the house to visit. Alone. This was uncommon.
"Where are your mom and dad?" asked one of my parents.
"They're playing horsey," replied Stevie.
Conversation was probably replaced with milk and cookies at this point.
And then you read the following comment, left by my mother.
In a discussion with Big D I was relating the story about you and Jerry C. house sitting while Jerry's parents were away. You coming home with scratches on your shoulders and back and telling me that you both had been wrestling in Jerry's driveway.
Your first thought would be?:
I have been there for most of the things that have happened in my life, but I've got to admit that when I read that comment I was sort of stumped. I actually had to do some math -- Jerry and I were college roommates in 1978 thru 1980. Which put me at 20 on the high end. I was 21 before I discovered my special purpose (which isn't entirely true ... I was 21 before I quit flying solo) so the 'scratches on your shoulders and back' sort of threw me. I thought that maybe I'd been with a young lady -- a scratcher, possibly a biter -- and that I'd been stupid enough to let my mother see the scars. The math did not work that way though.
Then I noticed how close to 'you both had been wrestling in Jerry's driveway,' which sort of put a different spin on things. It could have only been more troubling had mom said 'you both had been wrestling in a big tub of pudding.'
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I love all people. Straight, gay, bi, transgender, white, black, yellow, brown, Democrat. And a handful of Repulicans (probably you if you're one). Etc. And I want to offend no one.
Still, Jerry's wife, and I'm sure she's not a reader of this blog, might be concerned if she were to stumble across this entry. Not because Jerry's sexual past would trouble her, but, one look at me and you just know I'm a disease carrier of some sort. I believe I've blogged a couple of times about my STD (Sensitive Tongue Disorder) already.
So what happened? I got banged up in a car accident. I was trying to keep it from my parents.
By posting this, I'm not dissing my mother. I think I've explained before that I have a Trophy Mom. I just thought this was funny.
Posted by delmer at 7:22 AM | Comments (0)
September 19, 2006
Meet, meet you in the ladies room
I was at a bar in Dayton, Ohio with my buddy Jeff. I asked where the bathroom was and, as he needed to go too, he said "Follow me." Off we went.
We entered the Men's room and as we passed the couch Jeff said, "Hmmm. That's new." We continued chatting as we walked toward the back of the room.
"There's boys in here," came a very non-masculine and non-concerned voice from one of the stalls. Not only were there boys in there, us, as we looked around we noticed there was a serious lack of urinals. (And you could have easily fit two in where the couch sat.)
Back at the bar, with new room to drink and clean hands, we sat talking about sports, women we'd had, raw foods we'd eaten -- some we'd been uncertain at the time as to whether or not the animal in question was actually dead -- floral arrangement and other manly yet sensitive things.
A woman approached us and said, "You two were just in the ladies room. I recognize your voices."
Years later I was in the men's room at Mean Mr. Mutard's in Columbus, Ohio. I had gotten there early, when the place was mostly empty, to have a sandwich. I eventually made my way to the men's room and took up a position near the end of the trough that served as a urinal. As I stood there -- and this is one of those times in which multiple contradictory things happen that overload your brain -- someone sidled up next to me. The brain overload that occurred in a split second was:
I turned for a look (keeping my eyes up and away from the tools). It was a dude, obviously. Well, obviously, as he was standing next to me in a urinal. But, in the dark, or from a position in which the only polite way to see someone is peripherally, he had woman's hair. And, for the life of me, I couldn't begin to describe what he was wearing.
When I left the men's room I noticed the place was full of people like him. I was the freak.
Once, at a Fridays maybe, I stuck my head in the men's room to see a woman standing at our mirror. WTF? I stopped and looked at the door. It said MEN. I looked across the hall toward the other restroom and noticed a guy standing there sort of looking at me. I looked back in the restroom -- the gal was still brushing her hair. I looked at the door again. It said WOMEN. Ah ha. I looked across the hall toward the other restroom and noticed the guy still giving me an odd look. I made my way across the hall and took the urinal next to his. "Is that all you got?!" I said, over and over, as I stood there tinkling. OK ... maybe not.
At work we have a production half and an office half of the building. Production and office workers are in and out of either side all day long. Our bathrooms are set up like this.
Production Office
------------------------------------------
M W | W M
So, if you are used to going into the Men's Office-side bathroom you get in the habit of going into the right-hand door as you face that wall. I fell into this habit and managed to walk into the Production-side women's restroom three or four times before I finally started reading the door sign each time I had to go.
Finally.
When I was a bag boy for Marsh Supermarket one of my duties was cleaning the bathroom. The women's bathroom was always the worst.
Posted by delmer at 7:11 AM | Comments (1)
September 18, 2006
Saddle Your Pony
This is a story mom and dad recently told.
Up until the time I was 4-years old (and some change) we lived in Middletown, Ohio. This would have been 1964.
Across the street lived a little boy about my age. His name was Steevie.
One day Steevie dropped by the house to visit. Alone. This was uncommon.
"Where are your mom and dad?" asked one of my parents.
"They're playing horsey," replied Stevie.
Conversation was probably replaced with milk and cookies at this point.
Posted by delmer at 11:53 AM | Comments (4)
September 17, 2006
I made a mistake this weekend
I was at soccer practice Friday night, sort of sitting there minding my own business. I stood up to talk to one of the moms and she asked, "Where's your other half."
And for just a moment I thought she meant the woman who used to be married to me. Then I realized she meant the other half of me. If anybody cares I'm down 145 pounds -- or close enough I'm claiming it. This morning I came in at 226 pounds (and I had ice cream every day last week and pizza several days.)
A while back I finished reading They Don't Play Hockey in Heaven, by Ken Baker. Mr. Baker has a pituitary tumor. In this book he mentions it and refers to it as a brain tumor several times.
Brain tumor? That certainly sounds sinister.
So I looked it up.
I'm certain I knew this at one time. It only makes sense. The pituitary gland is right behind the eyes ...mostly. In the brain area. So it is a brain tumor. I believe they're, as a class, called Pituitary Adenomas.
I have a habit of making light of my pituitary problem. I get this from my mother. When I was younger she had a couple of surgeries that I know, now that I'm older, could have had serious repercussions, but at the time were presented to the kids (I was in my twenties) as pretty much a walk in the park.
The type of pituitary tumor I have can create some life-screwing-up problems. It certainly messed up the quality of my life for several years. The medicine used to treat the tumor has side effects that are traumatic for some; luckily I don't have any of those. (I guess the tumor could have been responsible for killing me. Men with low testosterone are more likely to suffer from heart disease and have heart attacks. They are more likely to develop diabetes. Low T can cause loss of muscle mass, loss of bone mass, loss of libido, and men are men are more likely to suffer from depression, an increase in body fat and mood swings (meaning others will want to kill you). The upside is that men with low testosterone are more likely to stop and ask for directions when lost.)
So. If you have a pituitary tumor, happen across my site, and think that I think it was a hair worse than a caffeine headache, it wasn't, and I don't want to belittle anything you are going through. There were times I was close to tears -- which I assume had something to do with my hormones straightening out. And if watery eyes count as being in tears, then I was. I'm not really much of a sobber.
I also know weight loss is a real bitch for some. I tried for years to drop weight and had no to limited success. Until I started getting treated for the tumor.
Nobody sees the tumor. Everybody sees the weight loss. And as soon as they figure out who the thin guy with Delmer's kids are they wonder what I did to lose the weight, was it hard to lose the weight, etc.
People have told me they see me riding my bike and running and figure that's the key.
(I don' run. Sometimes I walk briskly. But not that briskly. I don't know who they're seeing.)
Another thing the people didn't see was the year I spent walking, riding the stationary recumbent bike, lifting, and counting calories and getting absolutely nowhere.
Nothing clicked until I started taking Dostinex. (FWIW, until recently I thought the increase in testosterone was the key to the weight dropping off. I've recently read some postings by women who developed high-prolactin issues that believe it -- the prolactin -- is responsible for their sudden weight gain.) And then the weight started falling.
And even when weight wasn't steadily dropping off, I continued to drop clothing sizes. Which, I'm pretty sure was the increase in testosterone leading to greater muscle mass. Yada yada yada ... a Floyd Landis crack goes here ... but what do I know, I'm just a sample of one.
Anyway, any explanation I give about the weight loss usually leads to, "Well, whatever you're doing, keep it up."
Of course I'm going to keep it up. If I don't my life will go back to sucking horribly.
But really, there are worse things. I (now) take two pills twice a week. A buddy of mine takes blood pressure meds daily. I don't have any issue with the meds. Some people are not as lucky as I have been.
At this point in my life the tumor is a non-issue for me. Unless I get hit by a bus or something I will likely live into my 90's. Most of the men in my family live to be pretty old.
Where were we? Ah, the mistake.
Someone asked where my other half was. Meaning the other half of me.
I said, "You really don't want to know. It will only make you sad." I said it in a joking tone.
She said, "How do you mean."
I said, "I have a brain tumor."
"Delmer, you're so full of shit."
"I'm not kidding I said," even though I'd already passed the point at which I'd regretted saying it at all. Even though I'd said it in a light-hearted manner.
Then I explained fully. Then I apologized for it.
And I've felt bad about it all weekend.
Posted by delmer at 8:35 PM | Comments (1)
September 16, 2006
Soccer, Football, and Boys in General
Today marks the beginning of team play in fall sports. As I type I have a boy at football practice. In two hours I'll have one playing soccer. Tomorrow the youngest has a soccer game and the oldest a football game.
Practices have been going on for a couple of weeks already.
Please take a moment to sit and refresh your browser time and time again. This will give you the opportunity of admiring the adorableness of my children in various stages of growing up as the images under 'Boys' change.
Hurry now. Even as you pause they are growing, changing, and sometimes showing signs of impatience.
The youngest says we have to go now.
Word to you all.
Posted by delmer at 9:18 AM | Comments (0)
September 15, 2006
The Safety Squat Bar Has Arrived
Can you tell what the major difference between this Safety Squat Bar and this Safety Squat Bar is?
Very close to $200.00
Well, the first bar ships for $8.00. I bought my bar from New York Barbells and paid $65.00 for shipping, for a total of $284.00. So, after all is said and done the total is more like $121.00. Still, it is the same, exact, bar.
I put a lot more time into some of these entries than you might suppose at first glance. Yesterday's entry about Hills and Wind in central Ohio took several hours.
This entry has already taken much longer than I'd expected as I've been looking for a particular Safety Squat Bar. 
I think this one is the one I want, but I don't care for the picture, and the manufacturer isn't listed on the though here is the web site. Coincidentally, this bar is available from EliteFTS.com, at 138 Maple Street in London, Ohio. Which, if you're a regular reader, you know is one leg of the bike ride I took last week.
Back to this bar. If you look at the picture you'll notice the yoke prongs, while angled down, are offset from the down bend in the bar closest to the padding. I don't think this bar would ever lay flat. Laying the bar portion flat will cause the yoke to extend up just a bit.
If you look closely at this picture and how the bar hangs in the rack you'll see the yoke extending forward some. That is, not straight down.
This is the type of bar the gym I belong to has.
And ... about an hour has passed since I typed that last bit. I knew I'd seen something, somewhere, mentioning the name of a particular SSB. I just found it. The bar mentioned is a Crepinsek. Which is the kind my gym has. It is sold by EliteFTS.
This is the first SSB I used and cost $135.00 more than the one I bought (Or, $355 before shipping and tax are added. $402 after both are added). It, honestly, feels better on my neck and shoulders than the one I purchased; it has more padding and the way the yoke is attached -- it pokes forward instead of straight down as it sits in the rack -- puts it on the shoulders a little better.
Four hundred and two dollars is a lot to pay for a bar. And I don't know that I'd drive to London to save the $20.00 in shipping. Oh yes ... I'll pedal my bike there on a whim ... but drive to save $20.00??? And yet, it's just $175.00 more than I paid. I'm tempted to say that knowing what I know now, I'd pay the extra for this bar. I just don't know.
The $400 bar is rated for 1500 pounds. The bar I bought is rated for 1000 pounds. Or, about 1200 and 700 pounds, respectively, more than I'll ever put on them. (And only then if Pat Roberson is over for the weekend and is in the mood for some squatting and good mornings.)
The top bar in this picture is the bar I own. You'll notice the yoke points straight down as it sits in the rack.
My first impression of the bar was that it was not as comfortable as the bar we have at the gym. It seemed to sit too far forward on my neck, putting pressure on the back of it. The shoulder padding was not as comfortable either. I briefly considered returning it. Upon further reflection I decided I'd see what I could do to make it more comfortable. As far as form went -- the squatting motion -- it was fine.
As I'm a guy, I never throw anything away and I have a bunch of old ratty towels. I rolled one into a, well, roll and placed it behind my neck. This seems to have done the trick as the bar sits back a bit further and doesn't press on the back of my neck so much. This also makes it hit my shoulders a little better.
What would I recommend. If I were made of money, I'd buy the $400.00 bar from EliteFTS. As it is I am not unhappy with the bar I purchased from NY Barbells. It certainly meets my needs.
If you are looking to buy a SSB, be sure to look around before jumping in and buying something. It appears, based on web-site pictures, that a lot of vendors are selling the bar I bought. New York Barbells had the best price that I found.
Likewise, EliteFTS has the best price, I ran across, for a bar with the offset yoke.
Your mileage may vary.
Posted by delmer at 10:26 PM | Comments (0)
September 14, 2006
Hills and Wind
Michael, from Australia, left the following comment to Tour de Central Ohio
Delmer, your fitness campaign is truly remarkable. The breakfast looks great to me. I like the descriptions of your various meal breaks, which seem to be genuine highlights of the journey.
I don't want to disparage your achievement, but does Ohio have any hills at all? What about wind? Apart from your maps blowing away, was there a gale or tornado of any sort?
For metric readers, you cycled 160km, which is twice more than I've ever ridden in a day.
To answer succinctly:
The part of Ohio I live in lacks anything in the way of serious hills. It seems to me that there is always a breeze, at least when I'm in the country, blowing from west to east; Motionbased typically suggests that the wind is blowing about 10 mph when I'm out. I've only been out once this season in which the wind was bad enough that I wished I'd stayed home.
To drone on as if you have nothing better to do than read my droning:
The woman I used to be married to is from the Southeastern part of Ohio -- an area known as Swiss Hills -- which is very hilly and would be quite a challenge to ride for two reasons:
Central and Western Ohio are mostly flat. This is due to one of the following:
On a typical 30-mile ride -- the one that falls short of crossing Rt. 38, across which is the first hill of any notice, I climb 470 feet, go uphill 11.06 miles and downhill 12.19 miles ... which is sort of surprising as this is an out-and-back course; I may have started the GPS at the Bike Trail and turned it off at home ... this doesn't explain all the difference, but some. I'm not sure how my GPS calculates elevation but any climbing or descending on this course is so gradual it's hard to notice much one way or the other.
(It may be fun to note that while ripping across Norris Lake in a Jet Boat I had an uphill time of over nine minutes and a downhill time of over eight minutes with a climbing elevation of 175 feet. So something as simple as bouncing across the waves makes enough up-and-down motion that the GPS tracks and totals it. I suppose the ultimate test of GPS elevation accuracy would be to strap one to Ron Jeremy's butt? Does he ever do it in the missionary position? In a bed? What happens to all the pizza that goes uneaten?)
As I look through my Topofusion logs I've noticed that, though I would describe the several about-50-mile rides as the same on a scale of climbing difficulty (zero), they show climbing elevations between 1008 feet and 2140 feet; gradual, mostly unnoticeable, climbs and dips add up over 50 miles.
As you enter Mechanicsburg, there's a pretty good hill -- for Central Ohio, anyway.
There's another just west of Mechanicsburg between the 'burg and Mutual, Ohio. This, the longest hill on the 100-mile ride,came, just over 1/2 -way in. At 55.8 miles elevation is 1100 feet and there is a 6% grade to 1286 feet as you ride to 57.8 miles. So, not quite 186 feet in 2 miles. This is per the Garmin Training Center software. I really have no idea how to calculate grade ... the same software returned a 32% grade as I walked up the steps to the Rockin' Robin Diner.
I've uploaded several tracks to Motionbased. I would have rated the breeziness of each ride the same -- a breeze in my face on the way west and the same breeze at my back on the way home. Motionbased suggests that the 50 and 75 mile rides had winds of 10 mph and greater while the 100-mile ride had winds of 1 mph gusting to 3.5 mph; this feels wrong.
Motionbased also points out that the GPS signal I had on the rides was poor.
Posted by delmer at 5:48 PM | Comments (3)
September 13, 2006
A Dream about Kim R.
Last night I had a dream about a girl I went to elementary school with. She moved away some time in high school, I think. I know she moved at some point and didn't graduate with us.
At least this is what I remember. She still comes to our High School reunions and I'm always glad to see her. Every five years -- the last time three years ago at which time we spoke for two minutes.
We were not what you would have called close friends. Just people who knew each other.
So, imagine my surprise when she showed up in my dream last night. I was helping her bootleg phone service from the local phone company.
In the dream she was there, we were at a phone box and I had two wires stripped at the ends. I was having some trouble getting the wires into the jack using my punchdown tool. Which almost sounds sexual -- but that's not what was going on.
I can explain the bootlegging phone service. I blogged about something similar in the recent past.
And, at work, I've recently moved a phone jack or two around and I seem to have the wrong punchdown tool to make solid connections in the phone closet (jacks on the floor I simply kick ass setting up.) So, that explains the whole trouble-making-connections thing.
How Kim R. fits in is lost to me.
But I knew you'd want to know about this.
Posted by delmer at 11:56 PM | Comments (0)
September 12, 2006
On the Road to OSU: Epilogue
As you may recall from On the Road to OSU: Act I ... and On the Road to OSU: Act II ... and finally ... On the Road to OSU: Act III, a group of us were on the road to OSU when a State Highway Patrolman encountered us.
As I sat in the patrol car the officer suggested that Tom, Dick, Cindy and I head back to Miami University and forget about our trip to The Ohio State University.
When I mentioned this to the group in The Bruise there was a brief moment of sad silence. This was followed by the click of a cassette tape being shoved into the player, Tommy Tutone singing about Jenny, Tom (in the driver's seat) screaming, "Ohio State, here we come," and the rest of screaming, "Yeaaaah!"
And we were rolling up I-70 on our way to Columbus.
We continued up the interstate for a short distance when Tom announced he was going to take the back roads to avoid running into our policeman friend. The Bruise was one of those vehicles that sort of stood out and it seemed like a pretty good idea.
If you've read any of my bike-riding entries you'll know that Ohio is chock full of ruralness. Twenty-three years ago there was even more. So ... it should be no surprise to you to hear that the exit Tom chose put us, as many would describe, right in the middle of nowhere.
This is not exactly where we were, but it's a pretty fair representation. Please make note of the berm areas. I'll be referring to them as ditches in a minute.
Out through the countryside we tore.
Dick announced he had to go to the bathroom and asked that we stop. Tom complied. Dick exited and took a position at the rear of The Bruise so that he might take care of business with a bit of privacy -- for him and us.
Tom, in what I'd call an uncharacteristic move for him, gave The Bruise some gas and sped away from Dick. He made a move into the right ditch, turned left and shot across the road using that ditch to complete his U-turn, we sped past Dick, used the ditches to make another U-turn and then sped past Dick going our original direction.
Once again we brushed the ditches and we made another turn. This time as we came out of the ditch, that had us headed back toward Dick, we noticed a cruiser coming over the hill.
Dick ran up to us and said, "Quick! Hand me a screwdriver."
If life were a sit-com the cop coming at us down the hill would be the same cop that we'd visited with on I-70. As you go through life you will undoubtedly have some of these sit-com-like moments. This was to be one of ours.
It was the same Highway Patrolman.
"I thought I told you boys to go back to Miami."
"Yes sir. We were just on our way."
"What are you doing here?"
"We wanted to get off the interstate in case we had car trouble again." The officer's familiarity with The Bruise lent some credibility to this stretch of the truth.
"Why'd you let your buddy off back there?"
"The car quit running again and he got out to fix it. He said if it started to give it some gas to keep it going and then come back and pick him up."
"I'm going to follow you guys back to the next exit heading toward Miami."
Rats.
He went back to his cruiser. While we sat there -- briefly ... and I mean briefly ... mildly griping about our bad luck -- the officer backed up, turned around, and drove off.
We assumed he got a more important call. We assumed this for only a moment -- we were too busy singing as we headed toward Columbus.
Posted by delmer at 7:03 AM | Comments (0)
September 11, 2006
September 11
Today is the five-year anniversary of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center.
It seems like it would be wrong to blog about a road trip to OSU today. So, I won't.
At lunch today I went to Home Depot to buy an American flag. I really should have been flying a flag sooner but wanted to make sure I had one up for today. I wish I could easily find a flag that was made in America. I'd pay more for it.
The bracket that holds the flag was loose as one of the screws was missing. Yada yada yada ... 45 minutes later I still had no screw in place and I'd broken a drill bit off in the hole.
It looks like I'll be mounting a new bracket tonight.
About a year ago I stole the two pictures below from Joe.My.God. Click that link to read the story that goes with the pictures.
Posted by delmer at 3:23 PM | Comments (2)
September 10, 2006
Tour de Central Ohio
Sorry to keep you all waiting. I had to go into work today for 10 hours. I know you've been eager to hear about the 100-mile ride I took yesterday.
Serious riders would refer to the 100-mile ride as a 'century.' I'm not that serious. Mostly I'm not nerdy enough to use the term 'century' as it refers to distance. But, I am Catholic enough to refer to the distance as 100-f*ckin' miles. Even on Sunday. 
As you know, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I started my yesterday ride with a pre-ride meal at Mel's Diner. I had the ham and egg platter with scrambled eggs, English muffin, ham and ... are they called home fries ... a potato sort of chopped up? It could have been fried or baked -- it's very good and doesn't seem oily.
Anyway, I'm not sure it's the best pre-ride breakfast. I know I like it and, as I never have any problem with digestion regardless of what I do, it's what I had. And I had ice cream with whipped cream and Oreo bits on top.
A couple of days before the ride I mapped out a route using Gmap-Pedometer. This route suggests I stopped at 99 miles, but you'll notice the last mile is unmapped.
I had printed out a copy of the map -- about 10 pages, I think -- and had typed out turn-by-turn directions. 
RCIA classes here.
I hit the bike trail at about 9:45.
Now ... just the highlights:
About 4 miles out I made my first wrong turn and shot down Hayden Run Road, rather than Amity Pike, for about 25 yards before heading back.
Several miles past that I came across some road construction. This was the kind of construction in which some sort of huge machine has been used to tear the surface off the road leaving a washboard effect that is rough on a bike, the rider, and reduces speed to a bone-jarring seven miles per hour. I decided to take a right and take an alternate route around the road problem.
to this game as Cornhole?
I went through West Jefferson and toward London without incident.
On the way to London I rode by Madison Lake and Pappy's Bait Shop. I wish I'd gotten a picture of Pappy's; I didn't as I was already stopping more than I wanted to make sure I didn't miss any turns.
In London I stopped at KFC and had a roasted chicken wrap and a small order of gizzards. I'm pretty sure Floyd Landis had gizzards before the final stage of the Tour de France and I thought I might be able to make good use of their testosterone-enhancing properties. And gizzards are hard to come by ... I knew the London KFC had them so I made a special point to stop there.
I bought some more Gatorade at the convenience store just around the coner. The same middle-eastern guy that worked there five years ago was still there. And, just as he did then, the called me 'boss' when he saw me. He calls everybody 'boss.'
I missed my next turn at Potee. I checked the turn-by-turn directions ... from Potee take a right onto Old Columbus Rd. and continue about two-tenths of a mile. Then turn left on Val Wilson ... and took a look at the printed map ... right and then a quick left. And then I took a left onto Old Columbus Road. 
About a mile up the road it hit me that I was most likely going the wrong way. I had been hypnotized by the soy beans and corn to the point that I wasn't sure where I'd made my mistake. Based on the location of the sun it looked like I was going west when I should have been going east but, you know, I'm not exactly Tonto, Mick Dundee or Ted Nugent, and it was pretty close to noon, summer solstice was months ago and I wasn't sure WTF that would mean anyway. As much as it hurt me to do so -- and as much as it violated every rule of being a man -- I decided to find someone and ask for direction. I turned around and went back to where it looked like there had been a family reunion in progress. I parked the Schwinn at the end of the driveway and made my way up to the house where there was a large group of people having a picnic. When I asked for directions one of the women pointed me toward the homeowner and said I should ask her. She then went on to say, "We wondered who you were and how you fit into the family." I thought it was nice that she didn't add, "... and why you were dressed so inappropriately for a family reunion."
I told the local woman I was looking for Val Wilson. She pointed down the road and said, "the next road is Potee ..." dammit, I thought, "... the road after that is Val Wilson." So close and yet so far.
Someone was kind enough to offer me water before I left. Someone else upped that with an offer of beer.
I had kept my maps under a mesh-type thing on my bike bag. This worked so well for the first 50 miles that I eventually started storing the turn-by-turn directions there as well; I had been keeping them in a zippered compartment. At 60 miles I noticed the maps had blown away and were lost. The turn-by-turn directions had not blown away. And, really, at this point it didn't matter I was on the stretch that took me to Rt. 29 and from there I could get home.
In Mechanicsburg I stopped that the Indian Dairy Bar and had a small vanilla cone. A small in Mechanicsburg is larger than a small at the DQ in Hilliard. It was almost more than I wanted to eat.
As I ate my cone an older guy -- he was at least 60 -- and his wife (I suppose) stopped by. They were on the return leg from Urbana and heading to Hilliard. Speaking of legs, I hope mine look as good as this guy's do when I'm his age; this guy had some quads.
From Mechanicsburg to Hilliard is about 25 miles. As I was eating my cone I did some math and figured that I'd put on more miles than I figured I would have by this point. Mechanicsburg should have been about the 53-mile mark and I was at 58.5. I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but much better five too long than five too short. This meant I'd be able to knock off without having to cross 161 later. (Getting lost would account for a little bit of the difference. Taking the alternate route may have added some. And, when I laid out the route I cut enough corners to add a mile or two.)
I pedaled off toward Urbana. On the way out it hit me that I'd been pedaling into the wind most of the time. Sure, the 35 miles from Urbana to Hilliard would be with the wind at my back, but it's hard to feel good about that since I had two pretty big hills to go over. And ... I was on the Hilliard side of both of them so it was really four hills. And I was tired.
Had I ridden to Springfield and then back the same way I would have had the wind at my back 50% of the time. The route I took -- a loop -- would give me the wind at my back and no bitchin' hills for 25 miles or 25% of the time. I do not believe that if I were to ride this course in the reverse direction that I'd have the wind at my back 75% of the time. Common sense says you should, but life doesn't work that way.
At 90 miles I became gassy. This was the type of gas I've typed about before ... the type that normally hits me only when I'm in a confessional (I'm certain this has something to do with the heavy-handedness in which penance is doled out to me.) Or, it would seem, when the wind is at my back.
I celebrated the end of the ride in the usual fashion. With a small pizza from Mama Lia's: sausage, mushroom, onion and green olives.
I have no plans to ride 125 miles. Or to even ride this one in reverse to see how that wind thing works out.
Posted by delmer at 9:00 PM | Comments (1)
September 9, 2006
Saturday, in the Country
I woke up Tuesday certain that with the right amount of Cliff Bars and Gatorade I'd be able to crank out 100 miles on the Schwinn on Saturday morning.
This was an uncommon thought. Typically I wake up Tuesdays certain that if I could get Jamie Gertz on the phone I'd be able to convince her to disentangle herself from any man she might be involved with and run off with me. A couple of Wednesdays I've gone so far as to start dialing her number ... I get as far as 1, as I'm fairly certain she's not in central Ohio and I'd need a to make a long distance call, but then I sort of stumble. I had a notion, once, that 1-310 was a good start as it was an LA exchange; this gave me four of the eleven numbers I might need to reach Ms. Gertz or at least someone who might know her. How hard could it be to come up with the other seven numbers? Harder than you think -- my area code is 614 ... give me a call.
Anyway, by Wednesday or Thursday this thought would fade to nothingness. Which is what I thought would happen with the Cranking Out 100 Miles thought.
So, imagine my surprise when I found myself at Kroger on Thursday night buying Cliff Bars and Gatorade.
Wait, wait, wait. I set format precedent with the 75-mile ride.
From here ...
To here ...
To here ...
To here ...
Is 102 miles. For my CFO buddies, 102.4. (My CFO buddies would tip $15.36 on this. I would tip $21.00. It would take me a second or two longer to arrive at my tip amount, still, who would you rather wait on?)
You'll hear more on this tomorrow -- I can sense your giddiness -- but right now I'm going to slob around and watch a movie.
Once again, please excuse the helmet hair. Oh, and the salt stains on my shirt.
Posted by delmer at 8:41 PM | Comments (0)
September 8, 2006
Wings in Hilliard
There is a BW3 three and a half miles from where I live.
I love wings. And, while 3.5 miles doesn't sound like a long way to travel I can't tell you the number of times that I've said to myself, Lo ... if only Bee-Dubs weren't so far away ... for I could surely go for some wings this evening. Alas, I'll have canned salmon rather than make the drive. Why couldn't it be a mere 2.69 miles or less? Woe is me.
And then, of course, I'd have my canned salmon and cry myself to sleep watching Desperate Housewives reruns.
As luck would have it, just yesterday I noticed a new wings place that is -- are you ready for this! -- 2.68 miles from my house. That's .01 miles to spare. I could park at the far end of the parking lot and it would still fall within the arbitrary boundaries I've set for wings-places-I'd-eat-at-on-a-whim.
I'm thinking I'll be eating wings all the time now. And probably having a beer on Fridays.
Suh-weet.
Oh. And it that weren't enough ... it's also a Hooters.
Posted by delmer at 4:07 PM | Comments (0)
September 7, 2006
Dolphin Training Camp 2006
I believe professional football kicks off tonight. I believe this as I read it on Rob's Blog and, thus far, Rob seems pretty reliable.
I'm not a big football fan. Or, generally speaking, a fan of any of the spectator sports. At least not to the point that I'll make an effort to sit and spectate them. If my dad has an OSU Men's Basketball game on I'll watch with him and I'm honestly surprised at how involved in the game I get. Football is the same way; if it's on I'll sometimes get engrossed in a game.
All of that is more than I'd intended to say about the lack of whatever gene it is that makes me an insane sports fan.
What I wanted to say, in honor of tonight being the start of the NFL season, is that Dolphin Football starts September 17.
This is one of the photos I took during the super-secret, right-out-in-the-open Dolphin Training Camp. The tallest kid on the squad is Haydn. He's sort of looking at the camera and I'm sure that, had I had a better zoom, you'd see in his eyes a hunger, a desire, a burning intensity ... all of which when put together seem to scream -- daaaaad, sit down. you're embarrassing me.
What can I say. He's 13.
Posted by delmer at 7:46 AM | Comments (2)
September 6, 2006
Shareholders
A buddy of mine is a CFO. Actually, several buddies of mine are. If you were ever to see us out in a group at a restaurant together you'd be able to tell the CFOs apart from the rest of us normal people as they'd be the people leaving 15% tips in an instant while the rest of us struggled with what to do with a $13.32 bill. (This is why I always leave $4.00 on anything from $6.00 to $20.00. Not because I like to be a big tipper -- I just hate math.)
So my one CFO buddy made a teleconference call to shareholders or something. I really don't remember. And that's not important.
What is important is that a copy of the presentation was saved and made available over the web.
I listened to as much of it as I could stand I had time to before I was called away to save a kitten stuck in a tree.
Later, I downloaded the presentation and saved it as an MP3. I then did some work on it to make it more appealing to the non-finance-oriented person and shipped a copy off to my buddy with the following message.
Bob:
I listened to some of the quarterly report presentation. It rocked!
I have a program that I used to make the presentation a little more listener friendly. It's freely available and your IT guys might be interested in using it on future presentations. I've attached a sample MP3 file that you can listen to at your leisure. There are about 20 seconds of untreated stuff before I did any audio tweaking.
I'm able to hear where the tweaking begins, but I know where it is. Take a listen, if it doesn't sound any better to someone who isn't familiar with where the editing takes place it would be a waste of time doing any modifying.
Let me know what you think.
Delmer
CFOs, aside from having a skewed impression of what may or may not be interesting, are usually very busy, and my buddy doesn't always get back to me right away.
Still, more time than I expected to pass passed and I started to worry that maybe I'd pissed him off. A couple of other e-mails involving general bullshit went unanswered as well. Then, one Saturday he called me.
This might be a good time for you to listen to the MP3. I've cut the initial 20 seconds of untweaked file down to about 5 seconds. I've also cut the overall length down a good bit. Listen Here
So my buddy called and we talked about the general crap guys talk about. Mostly Farrah Fawcett-Majors ... we're from that era and even though she's sorta dingy sometimes now, she'll always be the girl from the poster to us. And we talked about golf a little.
Finally I said, "Oh. Did you listen to that MP3 I sent you?"
"No. I sent it right off to our IT people," he said.
"Your kidding me. Right."
"No. The audio could use some work. I thought they might want to hear it."
First of all, no IT guy wants to hear what another IT guy thinks should be done. We all know it all and I would never make a serious suggestion about what another IT shop should do. And, I'm pretty sure the budget of my buddy's IT department is big enough that they could buy the company I work for. Secondly ... well, you listened to it.
"Wait. You're kidding."
"No," he was adamant. "We need to do something about the quality."
"You didn't listen to it?!"
Now I was starting to wonder whether or not he'd turned the joke on me. Especially as I'd put together the Subliminal Dating Tape about 20 years ago and played it (to rave reviews) for his entire family. (I presented this in the same way, asking his parents to listen to it to pick out where the subliminal message started. It was about 45 seconds of Tom Petty singing "A Thing About You" ... while that played I'd do a build up -- there hasn't been anything subliminal yet, so anything you feel is only a result of stuff going on inside your head, etc. -- and then you'd hear me say, loudly, "YOU ARE GETTING HORNY).
The guy knows what I'm capable of. How could he possibly think I'd send something to him even the least bit helpful.
"No. I just forwarded it," he said again.
"It was a joke," I finally came clean.
"It was? Maybe I should listen to it. Would Farrah like it?"
Posted by delmer at 7:28 AM | Comments (3)
September 5, 2006
Backspash
I was in the Men's room the other day taking care of business. I'm not sure where I was, but I think it may have been a Target.
Anyway, as I stood there the guy that had been standing next to me made his way to the sink and washed his hands. He was wearing shorts. When he finished washing his hands he wetted a paper towel and then tapped a couple of places on his legs.
Aha! I thought, They're the guys who did "Take on Me."
OK. Aha! I thought, I'm not the only guy who suffers from backsplash at the urinal.
But up until this moment I thought I was the only one insane enough to dab off my shins after the backspashing. And I only do it if the bathroom is empty.
Also, I always, in cases of severe high-pressure backspashing, wait until I'm home before removing shards of ceramic procelain from my legs.
Posted by delmer at 8:28 PM | Comments (3)
September 4, 2006
On the Road to OSU: Act III
On the chance you've forgotten, this invitation was offered in the following manner:
"Son. This doesn't look good. You've been drinking, you've got no front tag, and the car's hot wired. Step back to the cruiser."
There we sat.
"How much have you had to drink?" asked the officer.
"Two or three," I said, meaning beers. This was the reason, I'd explained earlier, that I had turned the driving duties over to one of the other guys.
"What about the other boys?"
"They've each had one or two."
"And the girl?"
The girl was going to be the problem. This was back in the early '80's when the drinking age was eighteen for 3.2 beer and twenty-one for anything else from 6% beer to Pure Grain alcohol to Hai Karate. The problem was not that we had high beer. The problem was that Cindy looked like she was 16.
"She's had one." I said.
There was a pause. And not the type of pause that called to question my keeping track of how many beers everybody had drunk skills. As I looked into the officer's eyes I could tell this pause had a genuine wonder to it. I'm sure of this as I'm certain the officer had no doubt that I was spinning down the number of collective, and individual, beers that had been consumed. After all, he'd been young and stupid once, himself.
I was briefly able to read the officer's mind and I hurriedly added: "She's nineteen." And she was (In a Talking Heads kind of way. And if you read that to mean she really wasn't nineteen that would be a mistake. Cindy was nineteen, it's just that when I added and she was, The Talking Heads bounced to the forefront of my head and, as I lack any form of impulse control this early in the morning, I had to type it.)
The officer took my license and ran it. I came back clean.
Back in Act II -- and if What's a Delmer Look Like had the budget to hire a continuity person or the foresight to write this whole story out ahead of time and then chunk it up into the various acts this would have happened -- I should have mentioned that the State Trooper had asked us what we were up to and we'd told him we were on our way to OSU to visit some friends.
Thus, when the officer handed my license back he told me he wanted us to head back to Miami University.
Once back in The Bruise I passed the bad news on to the group. As we sat there in disappointed silence the State Trooper pulled around us and headed up the road.
In a single instant Tom yelled, "Ohio State here we come!" as he pushed the tape into the player and "Jenny" started blasting all over again.
Next week: Epilogue
Posted by delmer at 12:05 AM | Comments (2)
September 3, 2006
The Making of a Nerd
I am a big fan of supporting local businesses. Especially if that local business is not part of a larger franchise. Especially if supporting that local business will make my life easier.
And so it came about that Haydn really really really needed a Dungeons and Dragons starter kit. He'd played it while we were celebrating the Evansville leg of our recent vacation and, in his words, he thought it was "the bitch's tits." Which I assumed was pretty good -- probably four times as good as, say, Heidi Klum's tits ... which, are, themselves, pretty good. I think
this because female dogs have eight teats. Or at least I think they do. You probably already knew that.
You probably already knew that Haydn didn't say 'bitch's tits,' either. He just indicated that he'd really like the D&D starter kit, or Basic Game.
I asked if he could get a the game at Packrat Comics. He told me they didn't carry it and suggested we go to The Guard Tower -- a store dedicated to gaming. He suggested we make the trip to The Guard Tower one Friday night at 9 p.m. I told Haydn that even nerds got lucky sometimes, that they probably had dates on a Friday night and thelikelihoodd of The Guard Tower being open were small.
We made the trip the next day to find that The Guard Tower is open until midnight on Fridays. Nerds, it seems, are no luckier these days than they were in the first 45 minutes of Revenge of the Same Group. We also found that The Guard Tower didn't have the D&D starter kit. They did have several D&D books at $35.00 a pop. Haydn would need two books to be a player and a dungeon master.
Without any prompting on my part Haydn decided that $70.00 was a bit much for two books.
He'd already checked E-Bay and had come up with a couple of hits but, according to his research, they all fell into the collector category of games and were out of his perceived price range.
Behind Haydn's back I went to Amazon and found an old, new, unopened and shrink-wrapped D&D starter kit. It was just about twenty bucks -- which was the target price -- and I ordered it. It arrived in just a couple of days. Haydn was the happiest boy alive.
A day or two later we were at Packrat Comics. You'll never believe what they have! You'll never believe what it costs! OK. It isn't the same edition ... the board is a little different in construction ... it's twenty bucks. Now we own two.
(Packrat also had the same Naruto Magazine I had such a hard time finding for another boy I own.)
Posted by delmer at 10:05 AM | Comments (0)
September 2, 2006
September 2 Search Keyphrases
I thought I'd take a look at keyphrases to see what people were using to find WADLL. I thought that checking early in the month would ... what am I looking for here? ... make more sense? Who knows? It's been a big week at work, I'm beat, and not thinking clearly.
On with the show ...
The Number 1 keyphrase with 6 entries is:
recent famous male gay fashion consultant ..and appreared on the today show
Type that into Google and I am the first hit. I find it hard to believe this was typed in six times by six different people. And I doubt that it was it was; I'm guessing one person hit Google's "I Feel Lucky" button six times as they couldn't understand, the first five times, how my site kept coming up. (You have to spell the fifth word from the right as it apprears above to make this work.)
Number 4 with two hits is: delmer oil hose
I am the second and third hits for that one.
There are no entries for crazy leg cow, although a couple of entries appear in which people were searching on info regarding whether or not cows sit down when it rains. If you put crazy leg cow in quotation marks, WADLL is the only hit that appears.
Eight of 97 different search keyphrases contain language suggesting people stumbled across WADLL while looking for info regarding low testosterone, Dostinex, or pituitary tumors. I hope they found something at least a little helpful.
There were a couple of entries for Jamie Gertz and Patrica Heaton. Pat's come with a bathtub specification.
I wish I knew what weeds boinked referred to. I'd apply that knowledge to toggles boinked bob barker. I'd understand completely any reference to Jamie Gertz and Patricia Heaton boinked. I would, however, question how that search phrase would have bought anybody to WADLL.
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