The stroke stuff

Most folks who know me know that I had a stroke. I will likely be posting some stroke-related musings on this blog. But I've already published ALOT of self-indulgent stroke whining here. The short version:

I fell down, tore some important stuff in my neck, had a stroke, fell down again, went to the hospital, did some stuff, had some stuff done to me, came home, did more therapy, felt sorry for myself, took drugs, gradually got better, had a seizure, started writing a book, strokes suck, on the whole I wouldn't recommend having a stroke to anyone (except maybe Dick Cheney) ...

Yeah, I had a mullet, so shoot me

It's sort of disconcerting to wake up one day to realize that everyone in the world is laughing at you, and that the haircut you had throughout high school and college has become the subject of widespread Internet ridicule. It sure makes looking through old yearbooks a painful experience. It's a good thing (I guess) that I spent my formative years cultivating a strong penchant for self-deprecation (perhaps a sub-conscious acknowledgement that, no matter how cool it seems at present, my mullet would someday be seen for what it really is: ridiculousness. It is only through the lens of ironic self-awareness that I can today put a positive spin on what most people would deem an egregious fashion mis-statement. Above you see a chronological depiction of my high school years, grades nine through twelve. Below I provide captions for each picture.

Far left - At age 14, I am still the portrait of innocence and naivete, yet untainted by satanic influence of heavy metal music. Look closely and you will see the pin feathers of a fledgling mullet beginning to sprout at the bass of my skull.

Second from left - By 15 my mullet had really begun to take on the luster and sheen I so longed for. I credit the hours of vigorous bedroom head-banging for the rapid hair growth of my early teens. It's a little known fact that violently thrashing one's head to the brutal rhythms of Metallica helps to promote rapid hair growth by effectively jarring the follicles into action. And the blanket-like comforting effects of the mullet is another of the extensive list of benefits this style holds in store. Never had my neck been so well protected from the elements. Oh how I long to feel that warm embrace again. But no! Society mocks the mullet now! Even Canadians think mullets are tacky. That's saying a lot.




Third from left - Ok, so maybe 16 was an awkward year. my mullet was a twee bit lop-sided, poofy on the right, limp and lifeless on the left. I secretly hoped that the lack of symetry would convey just enough of that "devil may care" rebelliousness that the hot metal chicks were into. "Wow, that Tom," they would say, "what a bad ass. He doesn't even care that his mullet is lopsided." "Yeah," her hot friends would agree. "He's dreamy. I would totally go with him."

Far right - by my senior year, I had achieved mullet nirvana. Note the delicate manner in which my hair rests on the shoulder pads of my tux dickie. Too, gaze in wonderment upon the center-parted perfection of my "business front." Even grandma approved of this particular cut because my handsome face was still on full display for the ladies (and gay men) to stare longingly at.

Will Obama Defy the Weight of my Expectations? Doubt it

Ok, I set up this blog so I guess I better start writing. This will be my first (and hopefully last) post about politics. But considering that I'm watching Barack's inaugural speech as I type this, I think it's ok.

Just so you know where I stand (politically speaking) before you invest any more of your time/energy reading my (admittedly trite) opinions about U.S. politics, I will let my biases be known: I am an unapologetic Bush not-liker. Try as I might (perhaps because I have been deluded by the liberal media) I cannot think of anything positive to say about his 8 years in office. Every decision he made (or didn't make) seemed geared toward appeasing/pandering to the idealogues to whom he was beholden.



Goodbye Dubya. Don't let the door hit you in the ass, you dimwitted fool.

I just got finished watching the inauguration, and I must admit (despite my complete and utter support of Barack Obama and his administration) I'm left feeling a bit underwhelmed. Perhaps its because I'm such a sucker for hype. I expected something transcendent. I was expecting Obama's speech to move me, put a lump in my throat, put a tear in my eye, or something. I realize now that I am guilty of having unreasonably high expectations, and I fear that I am not alone in this. And that ultimately, Barack's Presidency will be doomed by this. Also, because Bush's incompetence has put this country in such an impossibly gloomy spot, it's going to take alot of time and hard work just to reach a stasis of normalcy in this country.

[Inflammatory portions redacted on account of my not wanting to be Patriot Acted upon]