Your Time, Your Heart, and Your Dues…

Jim Methvin presenting me with the Alumnus Loyalty Award last night.

These are the prepared remarks I gave last night at the University of Montevallo’s National Alumni Assocation Award Banquet…

Let me begin by saying I am truly honored and humbled to be standing in front of you right now.  I’d like to thank the University of Montevallo National Alumni Association for presenting me with this award.  I look out into the crowd and see people who I look up to as role models and mentors, and I many of you I call friend.

Before I get to my prepared remarks, there are several people out in the crowd who I feel need special recognition and I want to say thanks.   Without them and their support, I would not be standing in front of you today.

Jim Methvin.  Jim, you’ve been a mentor and a friend.  My only regret is I didn’t know you when I was in college.  It sure would have made my life easier at times.

Dr. Susan Vaughn.  Thank you for always supporting me, yet challenging me.  It has meant more to me than you may ever know.  For those of you who don’t know, Montevallo has the top undergraduate social work program in the state.  It did when I was in school, and Dr. Hitchcock, Dr. Newell, and Jeannie Duke are continuing on that tradition.

Last but certainly not least, my family who is sitting right in front of me.  I don’t have time to thank you enough for all the love, support, and guidance you have given me.  They are an amazing support network and I would like to introduce them to you.

Ryan Matson.  Ryan is my childhood best friend.  My Montevallo story doesn’t begin if not for you.  I’m so thankful that you got to choose Montevallo to continue your story.

Jason Booi.  My big brother when I got to Montevallo.  I’ve learned so much from you and your family.  Five years from now we will look back at this moment and smile my friend.

Jamie Purvis.  My older brother who has watched over me far more than I realize at times.

Dad, you’ve always been there when I’ve needed you and given timely advice. It is still very much appreciated.

Mom, you are a social worker at heart.  You never gave up on me, even after the doctors and other “professionals” did when I was a child.  You didn’t take no for an answer.  Thank you.

The story I want to tell you today comes from my time as a student and advisor to my fraternity.  One of the things required of a pledge was to get an interview from every member of the organization.  One of the questions they had to ask is “What do I owe the fraternity?”  My answer for over a decade was always the same.

Your time, your heart, and your dues.  Your time because you are going to get out of this organization exactly what you put into it.  Your heart because if you don’t give it your all, you are just wasting your time and mine.  Your dues because where friendship is free, insurance is not.

I’ve taken this same philosophy when it comes to being an alumnus of Montevallo.  I give my time, my heart, and my dues.  I volunteer my time and help when and where I can.  As for my heart, let’s just say I have no shame supporting Montevallo.  I really do give it my all.  The purple suit has been probably one of the worst kept secrets.  Last, but not least, I pay my dues.  I was afforded many opportunities to further my education at Montevallo by alumni who gave to the social work program so that I could attend conferences and network as an undergraduate.  I feel fortunate that I am able to help afford students the same opportunity now.

I don’t have to tell anybody in this room what a special place Montevallo is.  You all already know it.  I know I’m speaking to the choir in here, but my challenge to you is ask yourself am I giving my time, my heart, and my dues to help further the mission and vision of Montevallo?  By giving of these things you make students, professors, staff, and administrators lives a little bit easier.

In closing, I would like to thank you once again for honoring me with the Alumnus Loyalty Award.  Thank you from the whole of my heart.  Now may I live up to the honor that you have bestowed upon me…

May You Live Up to the Honors Bestowed Upon You…

Twelve years ago, I was named to the First Team All Alabama Academic Team representing Jefferson State.  I underwent a rigorous nomination and application process to be named to the team.   A lot of good things were said and written about me.  I was treated to an awards banquet at the Wynfrey Hotel and I even had my picture in the Birmingham News.  Being named to the team opened up many doors for me.  It was through this process that I would eventually end up spending the following summer in Washington, D.C.

The phrase that has stuck with me since that time was not something that was never written in a nomination letter or put in the application packet.  “May you live up to the honors bestowed upon you.”  It is a phrase that my uncle Doug used after I received word that I had been named to the team.  It stayed in the back of my head the rest of that Spring as I continued to receive honors, awards, and scholarships.

Not the award I’m receiving.

It has always been a humbling phrase reminding me that there is still work to be done.  Enjoy the moment, but don’t rest on your laurels.  I’ve always taken it as a challenge.

Tonight, I will be going back to another award banquet after being nominated and selected for a very prestigious award by the University of Montevallo National Alumni Association.  I feel truly honored and humbled to be recognized by the university I fell in love with twelve years ago.  At the same time, I feel overwhelmed and unworthy of such a prestigious award.  The challenge still remains, “May I live up to the honors bestowed upon me…”

THOU SHALL NOT WORSHIP FALSE IDOLS

At 9 a.m. Monday morning, the NCAA dropped a bomb on State College, Pennsylvania.  People are going to needlessly argue for years whether or not the NCAA overstepped their bounds by levying penalties.  I’m sure you can go to many different news outlets to support what side of that equation you believe.  I’m not here to argue about that today.

Edmund Burke once famously quipped, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”  That is what happened at State College in 1998 and 2001 that ultimately led to the NCAA’s verdict today.  It had nothing to do with the young men playing football today, but everything to do with those who were chosen to lead them.  Because Joe Paterno and others did not speak up and do what was right in 1998 or 2001, Jerry Sandusky was able to continue to prey on children for many more years.  He chose to help cover up the crimes to protect the things he held most dear, his prestigious football program and legacy.

In the end, I’m sure he thought these things that had been swept under the rug and would never see the light of day.  If it weren’t for outside incidents off the State College campus, they might have stayed hidden.  Joe Paterno would have stayed a celebrated man for doing things “the right way” and rode off into the sunset.  Instead his legacy is irreparably damaged and all his record setting feats are now vacated.  It is as if Joe Paterno became the tragic character Faust; who sold his soul to the devil to achieve greatness only to be undone in the end.

The now infamous Joe Paterno statue was removed on Sunday by Penn State University.

Until November of last year, Joe Paterno stood for everything that was right in college football and college sports for that matter.  He was worshiped by his own fan base and greatly admired by everyone else.  He already had a statue celebrating everything he did for his beloved program outside Beaver Stadium.  In the end, Joe Paterno was really like the rest of us… a flawed individual.  In his lifetime he was put upon such a pedestal that I think he truly believed in his own greatness.  You don’t have to look any further than his family’s tragically sad efforts to protect and restore his now tarnished legacy to see it extended beyond him.  If Joe Paterno was alive to day, he would be facing perjury charges and likely jail time.  His estate is likely to disappear in the rash of lawsuits certain to be brought from the abused.  In the end the message is simply this… THOU SHALL NOT WORSHIP FALSE IDOLS.  I wish his family would take that lesson to heart.

On a softer side…

I’ve decided to bring back JP’s Politically Incorrect Predictions this year as it’s own website.  With some help from my friends, it will be up and going in about a week.  I’ve set a tentative launch date of August 1st.  There is currently a facebook page that you can get to and like by clicking here.  You can also find the twitter handle for this new endeavor    @jppredicts  For those of you who are wondering what are “politically incorrect predictions,” here is a link to last years bowl blowout.

One Time, at the Children’s Fresh Air Farm…

During the last several months, I have had a lot of “forgotten” memories “rediscovered.”  Most of them have put a smile on my face and even made me laugh.  Some have not.  Either way, I am grateful that they have come back after all this time.  I’ve decided to start sharing some of them here.  The first story comes from my first summer as a camp counselor…

Everybody had camp stories.   The ones that keep coming back to me are the ones from the time I was a camp counselor at the Children’s Fresh Air Farm.  I have many memories from my experiences there that I could write about.  Some are extremely uplifting, while others would break your heart.  Today’s story is more of a humorous one.

The Children’s Fresh Air Farm or “CFAF” is located in Bluff Park and was built in 1923 by the Independent Presbyterian Church of Birmingham.  It is a 60-acre enclave of nature in suburbia.  It has been used primarily to serve the underprivileged children of Birmingham and provides them with an opportunity to go to camp.  The camp is provided as a free service to all campers and still is supported by Independent Presbyterian Church.

I was hired to be a Program Aide, and my job was to assist the Arts and Crafts Director.  However, I was moved to the Outdoor Program Director right before camp started because of personnel shortages.  I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. I had not come up with any programs.  The gentleman I was taking the position from (he had to be a Cabin Counselor due to shortages) recommended for the first day, I teach the kids how to build a fire.  Looking back at this, I’m not sure if he was being serious.  Is it wise to teach 7 -12 year olds how to build a fire and use matches?

My first day out in the woods, I took a group of about 10 – 12 children out and had them gather sticks and branches to build a fire.  It was a hot, humid day and everything was damp from a rain shower the night before.  The kids were eager to help, and we built a tee-pee like structure from the materials they gathered.  As you can imagine, damp wood does not burn very well, and sometimes not at all.  When the time had come to switch groups, there was a nice structure but no fire.  I felt a little embarrassed and humiliated at not being able to get the fire started while the first group was there.

While waiting for my second group, I took steps to ensure that my fire starting efforts would not meet the same fate.  When the second group walked up, I had them gather some more material.  While they were away, I liberally poured some rubbing alcohol all over an into the already built tee-pee.  I then gathered them around the structure and asked them to watch me.  I pulled out a box of matches in one hand and removed a match with the other.  I then said, “Kids, this is how you start a fire.”  I struck the match and casually tossed it into doused structure much in the same way one would discard a used cigarette.

Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol…

Flames immediately began towering from the structure, and we used the newly gathered materials to keep the fire going.  The kids were amazed!  I used the same trick with the third and final group that day.  I went about the rest of my business and forgot about the whole event.

About a week later, one of the male cabin counselors approached me at breakfast after taking his campers on an overnight excursion into the woods.  He said that his campers knew how to build the tee-pee structure quite well.  However, when one of the campers volunteered to light the fire, he was amazed at what he saw.  He said the young boy just kept lighting matches and just throwing them at the wood structure.  As you can imagine, it did not light.  The counselor then asked me what I did and explained it to him.  He just shook his head, laughed, and went about his day.  The moral of this story is that you should never teach children how to start forest fires.

Five Month Update or… Does Something Look Funny to You?

Krispy Kreme and running are never a safe mix, but has nothing to do with this story.

I feel guilty for not writing over the last two months as my mind has been nothing but a flurry of ideas and thoughts. Some of them are still fresh and potent and others are all but forgotten. These things float in my head screaming to get out and be heard, but often go silent when I finally make time trying to record and reflect on them. So in turn, I have been silent.

The last five months have seen its ups and downs since my eye surgery. To be honest, it feels like it has been an eternity. Since the first month, I feel like my vision changes a bit every day. There is no easy way to explain it except that I feel like it keeps “evolving.” Whenever I start getting use to my eyes, they seem to change a bit. At times, I’ve started to question whether I was losing my sanity or if something was really wrong. Waking up every morning and things being slightly “different” every time has really messed with my head. I feel like I’m noticing new stuff almost on a daily basis. At first it was fun, lately it has just been causing headaches. I guess developing peripheral vision will do that to you.

After talking to my optometrist, it turns out that my eyes keep getting stronger. They are still healing and will continue to do so for a while. It is his opinion that the things that I’m experiencing are just my eyes trying to do what they are programmed to do, but have never done…. That is work together. Right now they are fighting to overcome thirty years of “memory” or the way it has always been. It is going to take some time… I guess I just need to stick to my mantra of “patient time”

Something to be Falcon Proud About!

We all have things that we are ashamed about...

979 miles, 33 hours, 12 giant cardboard faces, 1 purple spandex suit, a national championship game, and a trip to Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar and Grill later… I finally arrived home a little after 11 p.m. Saturday.  My whirlwind trip to the Division 2 National Championship game was something straight out of college years lore and something I will be telling my children about many years from now (Granted I do get married and have kids.)

The Montevallo Alumni pre-game tailgate.

To tell the whole story from the last three weeks would be like Bob Saget sitting you down on the couch and trying to tell you how he met his wife in two hours or less.  It just isn’t happening. I could ramble on about how I came into possession of a purple spandex suit and an old Montevallo basketball uniform… the Falcon’s improbable double digit comebacks against Lincoln Memorial in the second round and Metro State in the Elite Eight… about how two local business owners put together last minute viewing parties so that fans could watch Montevallo dispatch the reigning National Champions Bellarmine in the Final Four… the incredible effort that several individuals undertook to get four buses of fans, alums, and students to Kentucky for the National Championship Game…  the alumni pregame tailgate… how I ended up on court at halftime.  Instead, I want to talk about the incredible Montevallo spirit I witnessed over the last several days.

When the clock hit zero Thursday night in the Montevallo – Bellarmine game, reality began to set in:  Montevallo would be playing for its first National Championship.  Just a little more then three weeks earlier, 265 Division 2 basketball teams dreamed of playing in the final game.  Through conference tournaments and the NCAA tournament, that number had been reduced to two.  My alma mater, which I love dearly, was one of those teams.

Dr. Stewart, me, and Dr. Stewart's cardboard head.

The mad scramble began in the next five minutes or so at the Main Street Tavern as students, alums, and fans began frantically to try and find a way to get to Highland Heights, Kentucky, to watch Montevallo play for the National Championship.  I called my friend John Brady and urged him to tell President Stewart to please find a way to get these fans to Kentucky.  I know I was not the only one.

I went home that night and could hardly sleep.  It reminded me of when I was a kid and the Auburn University football team had a magical run of 20 straight wins in the 93-94 seasons.  There is an old saying that nothing good happens after 2 in the morning.  Apparently, it was wrong.  When I went to bed at that time, there were no plans for organized travel to get the fans to Kentucky.  When I woke up the next morning there was plans for fan buses.  I figured there might be only one (or at most two) bus going to Kentucky since students were on spring break and it was such a long trip.  The Montevallo faithful filled up four of them.  The story about how this feat was achieved is one I want to hear.

The Falcon Faithful

When I arrived at the game 40 minutes before tip-off, there were several hundred Montevallo fans in the stands – students, alums, faculty, locals.  Most importantly, many of them were my friends.  They came with their purple and gold, signs, flags, masks, and overflowing with spirit.  It was the Southeast Regional final from 10 days ago all over again – except that they were five hundred miles from home.  It was probably the largest gathering of Montevallo folks outside of the state of Alabama, ever.  I can’t begin to express the pride I felt.  It was a beautiful sight to behold.

Where I was "dropped" off at half time.

I spent the first half of the game in the stands among my friends.  We were loud, boisterous, and just plain excited to be there.  At half time I was sought out by one of the Montevallo Trustees, David Wheeler.  He escorted me down to the court and “dropped” me off with the Montevallo cheerleaders.  I spent the rest of the game down there acting as an “unofficial” mascot until the end of the game.  I held up signs, “helped” with some cheers, and generally didn’t know what I was doing.  It felt surreal.  The most awesome part about being on the court was hearing all the Montevallo fans cheer.  They were loud, and I think I even heard an old Freddie the Falcon scream out “Ka-Ka! Ka-Ka!” a couple of times.

The NCAA Official kept me from coming over to the Montevallo sideline. He said he was afraid I would incite the crowd.

I joked with my friends afterwards that I need to write a book titled, “How to Turn Your 15 Minutes of Fame into 20 Minutes on the Court.” I now have a greater appreciation for the cheerleaders and all their hard work. I’m truly grateful for the opportunity to have had such an experience.  However, I would have gladly traded it all to have gotten to see Montevallo cut down the nets and celebrate a National Championship.

How many people do you know in this picture?

Unfortunately, both teams can’t win a National Championship.  Someone had to win, and someone had to lose.  After Western Washington University won I was extremely proud of how the Montevallo family stood up and gave their team a standing ovation.  The Falcons had no reason to hang their heads.  They may not have won the game, but were in no way losers.  There are 263 other teams that gladly would have traded spaces with them just to be in the final.

After the game I began the long drive home.  Strangely, I wasn’t upset about the game.  Instead, I was smiling.  My small, public liberal arts alma mater had gotten a chance to do something that very few schools ever get to do – they played for a national title on national television.  Maybe Alabama’s best kept secret isn’t so secret anymore… and I’m alright with that.

Week 8 Update or How to make it Rain…

Last week I failed to find the time to adequately write what I wanted to write.  To be honest, I got a bit overwhelmed.  The drops that the good doctor prescribed me in addition to the ibuprofen regiment eliminated my morning headaches.  This allowed my mind to finally begin working without having to fight off headaches all day.  The results from this whole process has been like someone turning on a light switch.  I’m not talking about my vision as much as my memory.

No, I'm not rain man... or Dustin Hoffman for that matter.

For those of you who don’t know me that well, I have a very good memory.  I distinctly remember dates, places, faces (not names), weather, and feelings from a variety of significant and insignificant events (No its not eidetic or exceptional memory).  For some people around me it is a fascinating thing. For most of you reading this it’s just plain annoying.  For me… I think it is a probably a coping mechanism I developed from my childhood.

Until the last couple of months most of my memories have been confined to a point in the Spring of 1997 forward (I was 17 at the time).  In recent years, memories from before that time were more less spotty and I was never quite sure if I was imagining things or just trying to fill in gaps where I knew things should fit.  I had only really been able to remember personally significant events before that time or when someone unknowingly used a cue (visual or audio) to bring something back.  So I knew the information was stored somewhere.

In the last week I’ve began remembering things in vivid detail as far back as to the age of five.  Every memory has led to another memory and so on.  My mind has not stopped running except when I’ve been sleeping.  Needless to say, this process has been a bit taxing.  My head has been populated with many pleasant and not so pleasant memories from over a 27 year period.  I feel like I’ve revisited my whole life several times over this past week.  Even as I type this my head is swimming through childhood memories involving the Miller’s, Smith’s, and the rest of the neighborhood.  If you feel like challenging the memory, leave a comment or drop me an email about a specific event.  I’d probably shock you.

As for the eyes…

They are straight and are continuing to try and “work themselves out.”  This along with the whole memory thing has been extremely tiring.  I feel as if someone is trying to “re-format” my brain.  I know they are doing things that I don’t ever recall them doing.  However, I don’t think its fusion.  To be honest, I wouldn’t know if it was or not.  I just know it is different then it was two weeks ago.

I believe that the “issues” or “events” I’m experiencing with my memory and eyes are tied together.  I don’t view any of it as a bad thing.  I feel like it is progress on several different levels.  However, I am surprised at the depth and clarity that I am remembering things from so long ago.  I almost feel as I’m right back at that place or time.  I’m trying not to get to caught up in my memories and realize that they are just that… memories.  The future is an empty page in a book waiting to be written… just like this blog.

Week 6.5 Update: Doctor, Doctor! Give Me the News!

If this guy is a bit "off" I'd hate to see what his "on" looks like.

Yesterday was my 1 month post operation appointment… at six weeks.  Apparently, the inability to correctly count is a statewide phenomena in Alabama that continues to spread.  But I digress…  I was a little fearful going into this visit because things have been so “off” and that I have continued to have headaches every morning since surgery.  The last several surgeries the headaches have gone away by the middle of week two.  This time they’ve stuck around like an old, unwanted house guest.

This meeting with the doctor started off no different then any of the others.  They checked my vision and depth perception before I got to see her.  I complained of the headaches and made mention of their similarity to those I experienced over twenty years ago while undergoing eye therapy.  She examined my eyes and informed me that they are now nearly perfectly aligned.  It’s the best they have ever been.  She seemed extremely pleased with how this last surgery went.

She didn’t have an immediate answer for the headaches, but had several hypothesis about what is going on:

1.  The headaches are vascular in nature (Migraines)

I don’t think this is likely, but a possibility.  Headaches only really flared up after surgery.

2.  My brain is trying to fuse the picture, but currently unable to.

I wonder if this is what fused vision really looks like? It still doesn't explain why the Matrix sequels sucked. Never mind, I forget Keanu Reeves was in them.

The doctor’s reasoning behind this is the fact that my eyes are pretty much aligned for the first time in my life.  However, one eye is ever so slightly off.  The headaches may be coming from the fact that I’m unconsciously or involuntarily trying to correct the position of one eye to help achieve fused vision. This would explain the exhaustion and headaches every morning.  My mind/eyes are working over time trying to do something they have never done.  It is my hope that this is what is going on inside my head.  The real question is how do you tell yourself to do something it has never done in thirty-two plus years?

What aliens from Persei Omicron 8 might look like... (and a tribute to my brother's favorite response to my non-sense)

3.  Aliens from Persei Omicron 8 have implanted something in my brain.

This seems unlikely and sounds like something I made up to have an option three.  Yep.  Definitely something I made up…  In reality, it might be something else.  However, I’m only presenting you with two realistic options.

What Robert Downey Jr. might look like trying to act like an Australian portraying a black man in a mockumentary styled comedy.

Hopefully I will have some answers in the next month or so.  I’m tired of waking up feeling like pre-Iron Man Robert Downing Jr. every morning.  In the back of my head the words “patient time” are still being whispered…

Week 6 Update and New Year’s Resolutions (A Month Late…)

Today makes (or marks) six weeks since surgery.  It feels like an eternity since then.  Tomorrow I go for my one month post op and should have a better idea of where things are heading.  I will hopefully be released to get back to my running, working out, etc.  I haven’t been able to do any of those things since Surgery (I’m sure I could have, but I was told not to!) This was done in an effort to make sure things healed quickly and without interruption.

Fortunately, I don't have to wake up to Sonny and Cher... or Chaz for that matter.

The worst part of this process is waking up every morning with a headache.  41 mornings, 41 headaches.  Ground hog day.  It doesn’t matter what time I go to bed or wake up, my head hurts.  Luckily, the headaches are manageable and I usually feel better after an hour or two.  Several people have told me this is what to expect from marriage (rim shot on the snare drum).  Hopefully I’ll have some insight into the headaches tomorrow.  I’m hoping it has something to do with my eyes just readjusting.

One of the greatest actors of all time: Keanu Reeves.

As for the memory… It is coming back with a vengeance.  It’s not all quite there but my memories associations are working quite well.  This has led to brain overload on more than one occasion when I’ve gone somewhere I’ve been many times before.  It’s like a chain reaction one thought leads to two more and those two lead to four more and so on.  To me, this is a good thing.  However, the actual numbers or dates associated with these memories are not present at this time which is a very odd thing to me.  I usually use dates and numbers in my head to get to actual memories.

In my first blog entry I mentioned I had set goals or New Year’s Resolutions for 2012 (One being this blog).  Here is a sampling of them.

Walked 500 miles for a girl. She probably wasn't impressed. At least that's what I proclaim.

1. Run over 250 miles this year: Why walk 500 miles when you can run 250?  Right now I sit at zero miles.  I blame surgery on this one.  A big shout out to my friends Bex, Julie, Lindsey, and John for getting me to start running.  I would give you a shout out Adam, but I know the bat likes anonymity.

Progress: 0/250

2. Pay off my debts before Rolling Rock Day: Debt is a monkey on a lot of people’s backs.  I’m looking to fling him off like he flings other things.  Some (Probably all of you) are ask when Rolling Rock Day is?  Just look for the ole “33” for your answer.

Progress: On target/early

I am Mendoza. My line: You do not cross.

3. Getting below the “Mendozza line“: This is a goal I came real close to accomplishing last year.  Fortunately, I’ve actually lost weight already this year despite not being able to work out.  I still haven’t stepped on a scale.

Progress: Unknown.

4.  Posting to my blog weekly: I went over ten years without writing consistently before I started back in August.  The hardest thing about writing this blog is that it is so much more personal and for a much smaller audience.  Back during the fall, there were weeks that over 4,000 people read my stories/blog post.  It was really neat to get on Google Analytics and see fifty people on the website at once.

Progress: On target

What I hope my man cave looks like in about 6 months... maybe.

5.  Re-finish my basement:  The downstairs of my house has so much potential.  Since I moved in five years ago I’ve wanted to knock down the walls and make a large game room/man cave/theater/bar.  I started ripping carpet and padding up several weeks ago.  After my February rush I hope to pick back up and get this project underway before Summer gets here.

Until next time…

P.s.  If you enjoy reading my non-whimsical non-sense please look to your left and enter your email into the subscribe area so that you can follow this blog.  It will email you whenever I post fresh material.  Thank you!

Week Five Update OR How I Came to Love the Chubby Ole Groundhog

Today is Groundhog Day.  If for some reason you are reading this on a day you do not think is Groundhog Day, it really is… but that is totally different discussion for another time.  Two days ago I celebrated five weeks post operation.  I get to see the good doctor next Wednesday for the six week post op and prognosis.  Unlike the same meeting from the last surgery, I’m not sure what to expect this time.  I just hope when Dr. Ludwig looks into my eyes she doesn’t see six more weeks of Winter.

With that being said… I feel like I have been living in a Groundhog Day the last month or so.  I’ve woken up every morning with a headache. (And my VEO Sleep Manager wakes me up with same sounds from nature)  It doesn’t matter what time I go to bed or wake up, my head hurts.  I’ve come to accept that this is part of the process.  I had similar issues two years ago when I had surgery.  Luckily for me, my Groundhog Day usually ends around 8:30 to 9:00 a.m. and I don’t have any encounters with Ned Ryerson.

Who doesn't want to see Ned Ryerson today? This guy! And remember... Respect the Falcon!

As for my vision… It’s improving.  The world still seems strange and unfamiliar.  In reality, its probably more a disconnect in my brain or a cognition issue.  For those of you who read this and don’t know me or not around me, I have a phenomenal memory.  Most, if not all of that is tied to how I perceive the world through my eyes.  When things are working “normally” for me, simply seeing a picture of a place brings back a treasure trove of memories.  When things aren’t working right, there is just a blank space there.  It’s frustrating because my mind knows there is supposed to be something there.  Right now, there are more blank spaces then filled ones.  It is better then it was last week, but it feels like it still has a long way to go.  My mantra continues to be “patient time.”

On the flip side of this, my mind feels like it is working better than it has in years.  It feels like it is getting sharp again.  It is as if I’m waking up.  One of my favorite quotes has always been “Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. (He) Who looks outside, dreams. (He) Who looks inside, awakens.”  Maybe, in reality, I’m just waking up from the Groundhog Day that I’ve been living in for much longer than the last month.