"It's time."

(Revised early 11/14/09 after a severe schooling overnight on Facebook)

"It's time." So said my eye doctor this afternoon after my exam. I knew what she was going to say. Anyone who has been with me in a dimly-lit restaurant of late would know what was coming next. Bifocals. (Progressives...Political correctness demands I call them progressives!)

Bifocal (progressives) contacts. Rigid gas permeable bifocal (progressives) contacts. Plus fake tears to keep my eyes from drying out. Plus new glasses. Those, at least, will stay single vision lenses since I rarely wear them. But bifocal (progressives) contacts are on the way.

I am officially and solidly middle-aged now. I have the gray hair to match. The stunningly patient SML came down to help me pick out new frames and the ones she selected (which are the ones I bought) have gray frames. She said, "They match your hair." Nice. All I need now, quite frankly, is a knee replacement. Or better yet, a hip replacement. Or some internal obstruction. Bring it on, middle age. I'm ready to take you on. And now I'll be able to see you coming, should you choose to further attack me in a dimly-lit restaurant.

I just had to shake my head

Without going into significant or colorful detail (and I tried to illustrate it using Google Images but on this rare occasion, decorum ruled for me, and you should be grateful), I made my way to the doctor's office today to get a very small lump, a bump really, checked out under my arm. Well, in my underarm. Thanks to a quick scan of WebMD yesterday, I decided I'd better get in today.

First, I have to say kudos to my medical group - they've established a service to get you in for same day appointments and that is not by pointing you to the Urgent Care. It really works - I called at 11AM and had an appointment with an Internal Medicine specialist at 12Noon. I will quibble with the wait they put me through - apparently they've taken a lesson from our friends at the world's worst airline, USAirways. 1200Noon actually meant 1240PM. I sat waiting in the Exam Room for 40 minutes without a word from anyone. I honestly thought I was on a delayed USAirways flight. All I needed was a really nasty nurse to come in and yell at me for asking when the doctor might be coming in and then it would have been exactly like a USAirways flight and making the mistake of asking one of their flight attendants for a water.

Anyway the doctor comes in and I describe my issue. She asks to give it a look. I think to myself, "Well, it's your funeral." So off comes the shirt and she gives the lump/bump in my underarm a couple of taps and declares it an issue with a lymph node that can be addressed with an antibiotic. I'm still shirtless and she's at the computer making some notes about the visit with her back to me when she says, "Now, you don't shave your underarms, right?"

How do I respond? I mean she just saw that CLEARLY a razor has NEVER landed under my arms. While I'm not the missing link, there's nothing bald there either. I just had to shake my head. She must have sensed the fact that her question was making me think she picked up her medical degree at Fred's Casa of Hot Dogs and Online Medical School, she spun around and copped to the fact that that was a lame question. I was relieved. But still...I just had to shake my head.

Welcome to the first day of my week.

11/7/09 - 71 degrees in Chicago

Today could not have been a better day to be in the fine city of Chicago. 71 degrees, people. In November. November! A world gone mad, but sign me up. It was fantastic. The stunningly patient SML and I had a chance to really enjoy it as stayed in the city last night.

We stole away to the Four Seasons Chicago for a quick getaway and it was mighty fine. The hotel has been through a renovation since we were last there and the rooms are modern without being severe or sterile. It's an amazingly comfortable place to stay. The location at the north end of Michigan Avenue can't be beat (nor could our view of the Lake). There are plenty of hoteliers out there looking for your coin these days but there are several things that set Four Seasons apart and one consistent thing is the staff. They are amazing, from the bell man to the hotel manager - each one seems genuinely interested in ensuring your stay is a good one. I love that they can make conversation with a guest without it being forced or canned. I also like that they use their guest histories. When we checked in, they wanted to make sure I was still reading The New York Times and that I'd have one waiting for me (for those keeping score, yes, yes I am still reading The Times). It's little things like that that make a huge difference.

Anyway, it was a fairly mild evening on Friday so we walked in out and all over the city until we got to Zocalo, a Mexican place. We intentionally beat the Friday bar crowd (they just started arriving as we left) and enjoyed a good dinner. My mole was good although the grilled pineapple required a hack saw to cut.

We started this morning with a run along the lakeshore. Since I started running, I'd always wanted to run along the lakeshore but living in the western 'burbs has not made it easy to do it. Today I did it. And it was fun to have the stunningly patient SML join me. She ran part of my run with me and walked the rest. She even started talking about doing the 5K next May when I run my first half. More signs of a world gone mad in a good way.

So how to celebrate a good run? Gorging. Seriously. We piled into the Original Pancake House for breakfast. The line was literally out the door of the place when we got there. I am no fan of lines and I was not sure we should wait. Patience prevailed. We waited and breakfast was awesome - the 49er pancake is genius. Pure, evil genius.

It was a great little escape. We made our way home, picked up the kids and went and watched BYU mow down the Wyoming Cowboys. It was such a spanking that it was a bit dull. And it no way makes up for their crappy performance against TCU two weeks ago.

And now, thanks to Daylight Savings Time, it's pitch black outside and it's only 600PM and I'm exhausted. So I'm done.

What's on my mind

What's on my mind? Frankly not a lot. At least right now. In the back of my head, here's what I'm obsessing about...

This place
An Executive Suite at the Four Seasons Chicago

The stunningly patient SML and I like to "escape" here everyone once in awhile. Said escape is coming up soon and I can't wait.

This book:
Superfreakonomics

I'm only on the introduction and it's already brilliant. It's a follow-up to the equally brilliant "Freakonomics."I mean how can you go wrong with a treatise on why suicide bombers should buy life insurance. I say you cannot.

This iPhone app:
Shazam

If nothing else, I'm hoping this will help me not appear to be a complete spastic around my children when it comes to what they are listening to now. Wait, did I just say that? It almost sounded like I could have yelled at them to turn down that racket. I hope I'm not ready to make that leap quite yet.

So that's it. Not a lot on my mind tonight. And I'm OK with that.