May 17th, 2004


I attended my son's graduation from college today. He majored in aerospace engineering at U of Illinois. It sort of runs in the family. I have a brother who took the same degree at the same place.

In his early high school years, my son was focused on basketball and dreamed of making a professional career of it.

I suppose there's a connection. Basketball and aerospace both involve putting something up in the air and getting it to a destination.

Rhyme of the day:

to the hoop.

Trip to doctor

I have a non-cheery, matter-of-fact internist. I like her, and I detect a very dry sense of humor beneath her all-business exterior. Today I visited her office for my annual visit. I have to admit, if it's truly an annual visit, I was 3 months late. But better late than never.

Having lived to the age of fifty, I am now "at risk" for all kinds of things, and therefore in need of various tests on an annual basis. What fun.

Of course, we are all "at risk," all the time. If you take a look at the actuarial tables, there is no age at which there is not some risk of dying. But, now that you mention it, the mortality tables do start to get busier once you cross that 50 years old line.

Some people like to say that age is just a number. I always scratch my balding head over that one. Are numbers insubstantial constructs with no substantial reality? Try telling that to an engineer. Numbers matter. Numbers... count.

Rhyme of the day:

To your skin.