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Lazlo Hollyfeld, the impossibly old undergrad living between the walls in Real Genius was 28 when he won 32.4 percent of the Frito-Lay “Enter-as-often-as-you-want” sweepstakes.
By the age of 30 Alexander the Great had built one of the largest empires the ancient world had ever known, ranging from the Ionian Sea to the Himalayas.
Rocky Balboa — in Rocky III! — was a washed up ex-champ fighting to regain his title at the age of 34.
I’m now older than all of them.
The rare — as in it has never happened before — Saturday edition of the Catching up post.
Why? You might have noticed if you’ve been around this week that I’ve been a little under the weather. Not to worry, I’ve dutifully hosed the router with Lysol. Also, these are photos I’ve been hanging onto since last weekend. So they need to be shared before they disappear like some bad Back to the Future plot device. Also, tomorrow, where the Catching up post would regularly go, is already done.
We drove into the capital after the Army-Navy game last weekend. I’ve only been once and The Yankee has never been. We could see the Monument from the stadium. We were 12 miles away. It would be a shame not to see a little bit more.
So here are those pictures. First, a panorama of the Washington Monument and the Jefferson Memorial. This one might well be worth clicking to embiggen:
A side view of the Jefferson Memorial, which I did not get to see in my only other visit to D.C.:
Front of the Jefferson Memorial, as seen from the Potomac:
With the moon:
The Washington Monument, with the capitol building in the background:
The Lincoln Memorial. Also something I did not get to see in my first visit:
The great man:
One side of the new World War II Memorial. Each one of those columns represents a state and territory and the sacrifices made by the sons and daughters of that state. Alabama’s marker is over to the left in this picture:
The top of the Washington Monument, still closed after the recent earthquake, and the flag flying over the World War II Memorial:
Two pictures from this trip have also worked their way into the banners along the top and bottom of the blog, as well. As always, click refresh!
I do not know if it is possible to detach one’s own lung. I’m going with, You can. Also, I’m following that up with, Almost did.
At about five this morning I coughed so hard I woke up The Yankee, two neighbors, a seismologist on campus and received a wellness call from the local authorities. I made it to the restroom where I thought I’d try another dose of cough medicine and enjoy a little water. This was a good place to be because all of barking and hacking had not yet reached its pinnacle.
Have you ever coughed so hard that you thought you were about to lose your lunch? That was the moment, some two days after having already coughed hard enough to strain my abdominal muscles in the solar plexus region, wondered if I could detach bone from muscle, and organ from human.
Remember: I’m feeling better. I thought, by the time I went to bed last night, that I was mostly cured. And then this spell that alerted the dog next door and warned off ships at sea.
But I am better today. My throat is fine. My sinuses are normal. The congestion is gone. I’m still coughing, but even that seems to have returned to a normal cough rather than the sort of thing that scrambles fighters. I just have no energy. Stand up, walk into another room and do one thing and I am wiped out.
Did visit a Christmas party tonight, just to get out of the house for a few minutes, have one glass of punch, say hello to the lovely hosts and see a few people. Also, to take this picture:
There are captains of industry, church leaders, leading academics and dozens of interesting and attractive people I have not had the chance to meet. There was a slideshow rolling past on one television screen, featuring photographs from last year’s party. We were in three pictures.
There were food spreads in at least three rooms, the giant Christmas tree was perfectly blown with fresh fake snow. It hung in the tree in a way it would not in your home or mine. There was a hand-carved ice bowl holding the shrimp cocktail. The ice bowl was decorated with autumnal leaves. We threatened to take hostage a key decoration if they did not hand over the bean dip recipe. Everything in their perfect house was perfectly decorated.
It was nice to be off the couch, even for a few minutes, which is all the endurance I have in me today.
Tomorrow I expect I’ll be standing on my head, feeling fine. And still coughing.
I feel like I’m about 65 percent of myself again. I’ve been stuck in the house for four days, so it seemed a good time to get out.
I visited the DMV. Most people have a problem with that, but I’d rather go to the satellite office of our DMV than to the local post office. I had to renew my license today and was done in less than six minutes.
Still coughing, but still breathing. The coughing is more of a real cough than the sound of all of the ancient gods engaged in a battle royale in the next room, as has been the case the past few days. I haven’t had any fevers since Tuesday. My congestion has just suddenly disappeared. It seems I’ve rounded a corner.
The biggest problem now is a lack of energy and endurance. But, then again, I do have a birthday coming up.
Speaking of birthdays, when I turned 30, almost to the minute, I came down with a little bug of some kind. “Nothing too serious, happens all the time. I’ll be rid of it in a day or three,” or so I thought at the time. Kept that thing for weeks.
This better not be like that, but I think I’m getting better.
Today’s photo is from the World War II memorial in Washington D.C. We went into the capital after the game on Saturday night. I haven’t discussed that here yet, which probably works out well. I still have content after a week of doing nothing!
Anyway, they call this the Freedom Wall. It holds 4,048 gold stars, each representing 100 servicemen and women who died or remain missing from World War II.
Hanging 405,399 stars would have been too imposing. Just the 4,048 is impressive enough.
I’m getting better, my complaining to the contrary.
I don’t feel like talking, so I dodged two phone calls. (Sorry about that.) And I’m not sure I’m speaking loudly enough when I have to talk. Repeating yourself when talking is unpleasant is just about the most demoralizing thing you can do with a roof over your head.
But I can breathe again, and that’s a huge victory. Huge. So my head is entirely better. Everything between collarbone and belly button is now miserable. I have coughed so much — or rather, so hard — that I’ve strained my abdomen muscles. Also, there is a great deal of congestion. And a lot of coughing.
Despite all of that, I do feel better.
Here’s another picture placeholder, demonstrating the curative power of Peeps.
