Lullabies of the Sleep Deprived Parent

Go to sleep my little boy
Remember that you are mama's joy
Go to sleep my little boy
Dreams are your favorite toy

Go to sleep my little lad
Remember that you make daddy glad
Go to sleep my little lad
Getting a few winks isn't so bad

Go to sleep my little man
Grandma is your biggest fan
Go to sleep little Jake
We will play again when you wake

Eulogy for My Father

It is grim irony that what killed my father was the result of turbulence. Vortices of hypertensive blood created a weakening such that the cells lining the vessels could no longer withstand the fluctuating shear and stress. The combined betrayal of material failure and chaos literally tore a hole in his heart. In my clinical opinion, except for the time dependence, he had an optimal death, one that was nearly instantaneous and painless.

My father was always early. Why couldn’t he be late, just this once? A selfish delay of 20 or so years, so that I could finally trounce him in chess; so that I could see him explain the right hand rule to his grandchildren; so that I could finally co-author that seminal paper by Aref, Aref, Aref and Aref; and so that I could learn those lessons that make a man great.

The accomplished, brilliant scientist and educational administrator that was seen by so many, did not need accolades to be the tyrant who made me do my homework, the gentle giant who tickled my head, and the voice that read about Darwin to me as I fell asleep.

While students trembled before that frightening intellect as they sought direction into the research unknown, I asked him about trivial math problems at a whim. He drafted the definitive articles in his field but always had time to proofread my papers for school. While he directed the course of students, departments, and colleges, he also led our soccer team to second to last place. Dad was invited to give summer schools in fluid dynamics, but I requested on demand lectures about Poiseuille flow, particularly the night before my homework was due.

I won’t miss my father, because he really isn’t gone. I see his handsome nose and dashing crooked smile everyday in the mirror. My brother is an improved blond clone with a superior hairline. Dad’s voice, wherever he was, has always remained in my ear. His legacy lives on in all his children, both biological and intellectual. Thirty six years is far too short to love my dad, and so sudden a departure robs us all of a smiling and clever good-bye.

There's no plan B...sure there is: Wait for DVD.

I'm about to whip somebody's @$$

A friend sent this to me and it simply cracked me up:

TED: Elaine Morgan says we evolved from aquatic apes

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I, Romulan

Marley and Me

I watched "Marley and Me" (Twentieth Century Fox) last night. The movie started out with John Grogan trying to find himself as a journalist and in doing so got an insanely disobedient labrador that he and his wife called Marley. My family has had numerous pets both dogs and cats, and the young Grogans let Marley run roughshod over them. Granted labradors are high energy pets but without someone to tell them what is and is not appropriate they will do whatever they damn please. After years of Marley's endearing antics the Grogan's start having children and this loyal blacksheep adopts the Grogan chidren as his own. The movie progresses to the emotionally wrenching twilight years of Marley's life. The lovable hellion begins to slow down, eventually having a foreshadowing bout of Gastric-Dilatation Volvulus (GDV) from which the plucky canine recovers after a touch and go night at the vet.
From here I started weeping as the ending scenes of Marley played out like the passing of the Doberman Pinscher I had from high school through graduate school. Agrippina ("Pina"), was a powerful canine in her elder years who after a run on a cold winter night had massive abdominal distention due to GDV. Dobermans are bred not to feel pain and she looked more confused than pained as the shock of ischemic bowel set in. My mother and I scooped her up and took the weakening dog to the veterinarian who had rushed in from her home. The doctor shook her head as she said that our only option was surgical correction, which as with Marley would have limited benefit and only prolong suffering due to her other chronic medical conditons. Pina was a fatigued ghost of herself and as the veterinarian administered the euthanasia she passed away quietly. Never had I experienced an emotion so purely as the grief I felt at that moment, the tears, sobs, and bellows poured out of me uncontrolled and it was minutes before I had any semblance of control. Later that morning I looked at pictures of my baby in her prime and I knew that although painful for me, this was the best way for Pina to go, chasing rabbits on a cold night. Watching the end of Marley should bring tears to everyone's eyes but the exact timing and helpless grief of Marley's family was a spot on recreation of my experiences on Pina's last night. I wept unabashedly as emotional memories I thought I had marshaled assailed me anew.