Yes, mom, I'm still alive...

It's been a few days since I last posted, a fact caused by a recurring case of carpal-tunnel in my right hand. Actually, it was caused by the insane amount of hours I spend in front of a computer on the average day which only goes to prove on point: I need to start using the mouse with my left hand. That, or just get more a life that involves talking to real people and not organizing my music over and over again in iTunes.

The title of this post is inspired by the fact that if I don't talk to my mother for more than a week she thinks I'm lying dead in a gutter somewhere. That, or that I no longer love her anymore and have forsaken my family. This is reflected in my favorite voice mail message of all time which I got one day while in college:
Me: Hi. I'm not home right now so please leave your name and message.
Mom: Hi Dave. It's your mother. Remember me?

Yes, mom, I remember you. I know she was joking. She knows she was joking. But deep down inside we both know that it wasn't completely a joke. That's what's so great about mothers (and fathers, too). They have this inate ability to both have a powerful influence on your life, one that you know you couldn't have survived without, while also possessing a vulnerability which we all know revolves around the fact that their lives would be empty without you in them. They know this. We know this. And we all bask in the fact that we have such an immense influence on each other's lives.

I think it goes further than love. We love each other for reasons I still haven't figured out (but appreciate greatly). This vulnerability stems from the knowledge that we are who we are only because of the people that helped us get this way. Gratitude? Self-awareness? Take away one person from the course of your life and the outcome would have been greatly different. My friends and family are important to me not because they are great people (they are) but because it's only through their strengths (and weaknesses) that I was able to evolve into the boggling creature that types these very words.

Maybe that is love.

Speaking of evolving and love, I got to attend my first catholic mass this weekend (a non-sequiter? You decide...). My friend was getting married up in College Station (that's deep in the heart of Aggie-land) and, seeing how she was Catholic, it was held in a Catholic church. I had such mixed emotions while sitting through the mass. One part of me wished I was part of it, wished I was a believer, just so I could become part of this great tidal wave of belief and inclusion and feel part of something bigger than myself. It wasn't a very big part, though.

The words that were spoken ultimately created more questions in my mind about the existance of God. And before I piss anyone off, I think I would have had the same questions had it been any other type of church or synagogue. I find that a good chunk of religion is trying (in vain) to live up to God's expectations. Or, at least, man's interpretation of what God's expectations are. I see too many contradictions that my brain can't fathom. The overall message I get is that we humans, by nature, are bad and it's all we can to do force ourselves to be righteous in the eyes of God. The problem is that I can't see why many of the things we do are wrong. I can't buy into something that tells me that who I am as a person is fundamentally bad.

I know I've brought up religion in the past and I know it's the quickest way to alienate your friends, but I'm a sucker for questions and I live for knowledge. And I hold nothing higher in this world than truth. I'm not saying that truth and religion are mutually exlusive. That would be both insensitive and close-minded on my part. Truth exists everywhere, both in the books we read in science class and the religions that guide most people in this world. They might be different flavors, but I believe that the underlying tenet of everything is truth. I'm just still looking for the bridge that gaps them all.

And if NASA knew I was writing blog entries while at work they'd have me fired...

Happy thought of the day: Getting dressed up for Halloween
Random quote of the day: "I used to cry for a world without laughter when all I had to do was create my own."

They did it again...

For the record, I am not an Astro's fan.

I'll root for them because, as a resident of Houston (which doesn't necessarily make me a Houstonian), it's good to see the home team do well during the season and I'll be more than happy to support a winning team. I think they have some great players on their team and I wish them the best of luck as they make their way to their first ever World Series win.

However, they have just lost their second game to the White Sox and, like the first game, there was no reason why they should have lost this one other than their basic inconsistency. If they're going to keep up with this then they deserve to lose. That's harsh, yes, but someone has to say it. A World Series Champion does not pull the shit they are pulling and the don't deserve to win a thing until they pull themselves together.

And, no, I'm not just bitter because my Yankees had their season ended prematurely. I just can't stand it when an excellent team stumbles due to their own inconsistent inadequacies.

That being said...Go 'stros! It ain't over yet and I have faith you'll pull this together. Otherwise your presence, and the failure I'll forever associate with it, might be one more reason to get out of this unholy city. Right, like I needed another reason...

For some things there are no words

Yet, I still look for them.

Last Friday, I floated. There's no other way to describe it. I floated in apparent weightlessness. Perhaps a little background is appropriate. Part of my training as a Flight Controller for NASA, particularly in medical operations, is to understand the conditions in which astronauts will be performing our activities. This is accomplished in an incredible way.

Everybody knows centripetal force. It's the force pulling an object toward the center of a circular path as the object goes around the circle. For instance, everytime you take a long curve while driving and your body feels like it's being pulled away from the turn, that's centripetal force. Now, imagine making that turn, but in a vertical plane. This is achieved by flying a plane in large, parabolic flight paths. At the crest of the parabola the occupants experience a period of weightlessness since the force of gravity is being counterbalanced by the centripetal force. NASA has been conducting this type of training for 30 years now and although the airplane used has changed a couple of times, the nickname for it has not. This vessel is affectionately called the Vomit Comet. The origin of this name should be self-explanatory.

After about ten months of being scheduled to fly and then being pulled due to mechanical issues, I finally got my opportunity on Friday. This was, hands down, the most incredible thing I've done in my life. All I can do is give you the physics of this experience, which I've done, because I don't truly know how to describe it otherwise. You know that feeling you get in an elevator during that brief time it takes for the cabin to deccelerate it's upward movement and come to a stop? For that almost instantaneous moment your body is still moving in the upward direction while the cabin is stopping you can feel, however slight, all weight being removed from your body. Imagine that lasting twentyfive seconds. Imagine being able to stand on your hands with absolutely no effort. Imagine watching your friends float past you with the littlest of effort.

My words do it no justice. Nothing will other than my memories of the parabolic-induced increased gravity followed by the sudden feeling of blood pooling in my head and floating off the ground. That's all it is. Floating. Pushing off the cabin floor and only stopping when my body was impeded by the ceiling. These periods of weightlessness only lasted about 25 seconds, but they were repeated 40 times. Still, not enough time to truly get used to the feeling but just enough to get addicted.
No, there really are no words that accurately describe this experience. There never will be. But I will always remember the day I got to pretend I was in space and float like an astronaut. For that, no words are necessary.

Members wanted

I'm starting a "I Hate A-Rod" fan club/support group. If a group like this already exists then I would be proud to start a Houston area chapter. Either way, there needs to be a grass roots collective effort to direct hatred towards the man from all states within this great country of ours.

I look forward to the day when his contract is finally up and the Yankees get rid of him.

Happy thought of the day: At least the Astros are still in it...

Nocturnal Positions

I'm a strange guy. Really. No way around that fact. I'm going to use this space today to prove that fact. I know, a lot of proof is not necessary. You can more or less assume that I'm on the far side of the line separating the normals from the not-so-normals. There are a few habits I have, however, that are relatively unknown by the masses and rightfully so. For instance, I have a tendency of doing some incredibly strange things in bed.

That last sentence was to gross out the members of my family who read this. Raise your hand if you want to know about my sexual habits...riiight. That would be none of you. Let's keep it that way. What I really meant, though, was that I do some really strange things while sleeping. Oh, I know...you're thinking that there's nothing extraordinary about this since most people have weird sleeping habits and there's a good chance you believe that there's nothing I can tell you that you haven't already done yourself. It's possible, but I think I can give you a run for you money here.

For instance, it's not uncommon for me to wake up with less clothing than I went to sleep with. Sure, you've done that. The shirt you had one when you went to bed is now bunched up on the floor next to you. Maybe it got a little warm at night and you took the time to wake up and take it off and then just forgot about it in the morning. Have you ever woken up with more clothing on than when you started? Yup. Done that.

The other day I woke up lying the wrong way on my bed. That is, the end of the bed where my feet were at night was the end of the bed where my head was in the morning. This is not uncommon. This recent activity was a special case. I was laying diagonal across my bed with a balled up t-shirt in the crook of my elbow, much like I was carrying a football. This case was explainable due to the dream I had right before I woke up. I was playing football and there was a fumbled ball so I picked it up and started running down the field. Hence the pose on my bed. Interesting.

My greatest achievement is bound to amaze you. I have not found one story that parallels what I accomplished one night. Keep in mind, I vaguely remember this so the details are hazy. For some reason, I woke up one night and decided that my bed need to be turned around. I then proceeded to get out of bed, rotate the sucker 180 degrees, and then hopped back into bed and didn't wake up until morning. Did I mention that I had no idea in the morning how my bed got turned around? Now you're asking how I knew that my bed was rotate since a bed rotated 180 degrees is remarkably similar to a bed rotated 0 degrees. That's were bed sheets come into play. Yes, my dear Watson, the bed sheets gave it way. Would that be considered sleep-redecorating?

The list goes on and on but you get the point. Weird stuff.

Happy thought of the day: Yankees won tonight, game 5 tomorrow!

Willie's the man!

I like trees. I like grass. I like the lazy sun rising over outstretched limbs of tall pine trees early in the morning. The fact that Houston is becoming more and more of a concrete paradise surely doesn't help my lack of desire to be in this city. The bigger slap in the face is that I haven't found one hint of concern from any community about the unending sprawl that is increasingly stealing any natural beauty this area once had. In fact, in my eyes Houston is simply the gas-guzzling Hummer of the U.S., tearing up everything it crosses.

Texas is oil. There are few other reasons why any city in Texas would have been developed if oil was not present. I like my vehicles with high efficiency and low emissions. Texans don't seem to care. The bigger the better. Now, you can imagine why surprise last Sunday morning when I came across a morning show discussing a town outside of Dallas named Carl's Corner. It's a very small town, established only so one man, Carl, could set up a truck stop along a major highway. The town hasn't grown much over the years but it has become a haven for truckers making their way slowly across the long Texas countryside. Sadly, the man has encountered many hardships in his life, including the loss of three sons. During this time of crisis he was visited by a very special man who was able to convince him that the truckstop made a difference in the lives of every truckdriver who came on down the road. That man was Willie Nelson.

I bet you didn't know that Willie Nelson has a tour bus that is fueled by something called biodiesel. This is a type of diesel gas created through a chemical process starting with vegetable oil and/or animal fat. Yes, Willie Nelson is a die hard hippie. He understands the criticality of eliminating our dependence on foriegn oil by creating our own renewable fuels. This is a fuel that would reduce emissions of tractor trailers, or any deisel vehicle, by signficant amounts without the need to alter the vehicle to support the fuel! Let me restate that. One of the enormous obstacles of the so-called hydrogen economy is creating an infrastructurde that can actually support it. Forget about the technological barriers we face right now to even use hydrogen to power our vehicles, we can't even create or distribute it efficiently currently. On the other hand, we have at our disposal a fuel that can be mixed with petroleum-based deisel or used by itself in vehicles currently on the road without any modifications.

I don't believe that biodiesel is the answer to our problems but I do think it's a start. In fact, I can't think of any reason to not produce this stuff on a mass scale and distribute it thoughout the U.S. to put at truckers' disposal. Why aren't we doing it? Not to sound like a conspiracy theorest, but I'm thinking that it has something to do with the oil lobby. How could they possibly benefit from this? We're not talking about some type of alternative petroleum product. This is something that's going to come out of our farms and restaurants (yes, used cooking oil can be converted to biodiesel). The petroleum industry has a lot to lose if biodeisel gets a foothold in the economy. I can only hope that the needs and desires of the consumers will be strong enough to overcome any pressure this industry can put on Congress and the gas stations.

Spread the word. We still have hope. The oil industry will one day be a shadow of what it is today and for once the U.S. will have it's independence on foreign oil reduced significantly and our farmers will once again play a central role in the strength of this country.

It's that time again

The Yankees are at it again. Let's get this show started.