Brothers Forever Inked

Between 8^th grade and our freshman year in college my friend Jeff and I were inseparable.  We did everything together and pretty much hung out nonstop. We supported each other through thick and thin and got through some difficult and tough times together during high school.

After graduation, to the surprise of no one, we both decided to attend Indiana University and applied to be roommates. Our request was granted but not long into our first semester away at college we started having problems for the first time in our friendship.

Issues that had dwelled under the surface of our relationship in high school now seemed to crop up daily putting a serious strain on both of us. At the end of first semester Jeff decided that it was in his best interests to take second semester off and work on some of his personal struggles back home.

This meant for the first time in forever we would be separated both literally and emotionally. The distance did initially help to alleviate some of the stress that we both had been feeling, and allowed us the opportunity to have space and gain individual perspective on our situations.

While we were apart we still talked on the phone and via the Internet daily so we were able to remain integral parts of each other everyday lives. However, this was not the same as when we had seen each other constantly and we both felt our relationship slowly changing.

Perhaps, reflecting back on it now, this was why when Jeff came to visit me at school during second semester we decided to get matching tattoos. Jeff had researched Chinese characters and we decided on the symbol for friendship.

When Jeff arrived on campus we made appointments at Skinquake to get our tats done. I don’t recall either of us expressing any outward nervousness at the impending decision or the permanence of the act. I honestly believe that at the time we were both excited to be going through this experience together.

Heeding some practical advice from my mom we decided to both get our tattoos in a place that wasn’t particularly visible unless you were looking for it. Therefore the most logical place for them was our backs. I decided to get mine where my spinal cord met my collarbone just under the center of my neck while Jeff decided to get his on the upper part of his back.

On the day of our appointments, not completely knowing what I was in for when I volunteered to go first, I did become nervous when Jeff was relegated to the waiting room. Additionally, doubts crept into my head when the guy who was doing my tattoo informed me that my spot was one of the most painful places to get inked.

As I felt the needle dig into my flesh my initial impression was that the sensation wasn’t that horrible. While it hurt each stroke was short and compact so the pain only went on for a few seconds before a momentary reprieve was offered when he changed positions or got more ink.

Unfortunately, those feelings didn’t last and the pain quickly heightened as he applied the tip of his needle to more sensitive areas. After what seemed like all day sitting there while the tattoo artist painted my neck I was finally finished and completely satisfied with the work he had produced.

Jeff went next and after a couple of hours we were forever link with the same permanent scar. Not long after that day Jeff and I had a final falling out, which led to us not speaking for over 5 years. However, during that time I can honestly and unequivocally say that I never, not once, regretted getting the tattoo with him.

You see Jeff and I went through something very profound together as we worked our way from pimply 14 year olds to college freshman, and that journey made a significant and lasting impact on my life and who I am today. Therefore, the tattoo was a fitting way for Jeff and I to be eternally linked in friendship.

Even though Jeff and I have reconciled in the past year, and are once again best friends, I can’t help but wonder if the enduring mark of our tattoos and the closeness that it signified drew us back together. In the end I have come to see our tattoos as a representation of the ultimate bond that we have and always will share.

To me, over time, the tattoo has transformed itself to mean more than just friendship. It has taken on a higher meaning as the result of everything that Jeff and I have overcome together and now represents a symbol of brotherhood, which is why no matter what happens I will continue to be proud of the fact that we are friends and have matching tattoos.

Are Jews Bored On Christmas Day?

For non-Christians the 25^th of December can be a very boring and uninteresting day, since almost every American has the day off and as a result there are few establishments open. That is why most Jews spend Christmas Day one of the following three ways.

The first way that some Jews spend Christmas is by sitting around their homes simply relaxing and enjoying their day off. This is a pretty popular way for singles and young people to spend the day since it requires little work or planning. However, it is by far the least interesting and I feel as though it’s a cop-out way to spend the holiday, but too each their own.

The second way that many Jews choose to spend the Christmas holiday is by using the day as an opportunity to have a nice occasion with family and friends. Many Jews see this “bonus” day off as a reason to celebrate and spend time with the people they care about. This is a typical way for families to spend the holiday, and in my opinion is a very nice way to spend Christmas since it lines up nicely with the spirit of the day.

The third way for Jews to spend the holiday is by combining the only two things that are guaranteed to be available to them on Christmas despite the fact that everything is seemingly closed. These two establishments that can be counted on for their willingness to stay open in spite of the holiday are movie theatres and Chinese Restaurants. That is why, as strange as it may seem, on the 25^th of December the Chosen People can often be seen flooding local movie theatres and then following it up by eating mongolian beef, chicken fried rice and pot stickers.

I guess over time Jews have adapted to the fact that pretty much nothing is open on Christmas and therefore they had limited options as to how to spend the day off. In my lifetime I have had the opportunity to spend Christmas Day each of those three ways and I’ve got to admit they all have their individual merits.

It all pretty much depends on how far you are willing to go to overcome the fact that pickings are slim on Christmas and therefore you have to either go the extra mile in your preparation for the day, or succumb to the fact that your options are limited and take what the day gives you.

In the end I suppose it comes down to the individual and whether they let themselves be bored instead of making the most of their day off. Personally, I was very excited about the prospects of going to the movies yesterday and then eating some msg laden Chinese food before passing out early, and let me tell you based on the fact that the movie theatre where I went to see a matinée showing of “Sherlock Holmes” was filled I have sneaking suspicion I wasn’t the only Jew with this idea of how to spend Christmas Day.

One Man Almost Left Behind

If you live in Southwest Florida and fly a lot you are destined to become well acquainted with Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta. Since most of our road games require air travel, and we take around 20 people with us on each trip, we almost always book one-stop flights with stopovers in Atlanta to save money.

In the last few years Hartsfield-Jackson has become the busiest airport in the country surpassing O’Hare Airport in Chicago. However, the fact that so many people arrive and depart from the airport each day is not the biggest problem with flying through there.

You see Atlanta Airport is like fucking Versailles. I am not exaggerating when I say that the airport is like 8 miles long and getting from C Gates to D Gates is approximately a 20-minute walk. I mean for gosh sakes they have a freakin’ train that transports people all over the airport! Therefore, it is imperative when scheduling flights that connect in Atlanta that you have ample time to get from your arrival gate to your next flight.

On a recently trip to play Longwood University in Farmville, Virginia we played a rare afternoon game allowing us to fly home that evening instead of the next morning. After the game we quickly herded the players onto the bus and raced to the Charlotte Airport to board our flight to Atlanta. We were on time for our initial leg however, we knew once we arrived in Atlanta that we’d have to haul-ass to our second flight since we only had a 30-minute layover.

We touched down on time in Atlanta and sprinted to the board to see what gate our next flight would be leaving from only to discover that there was no longer a need to rush since our flight had been delayed 50-minutes from 10:00 pm to 10:50 pm.

Realizing we now had a comfortable hour and 20-minutes before our next flight we decided to make the walk from Gate D-7, where we had deplaned, to Gate C-1 before getting our guys some food.

After about a 20-minute walk we arrived at the beginning of the C Gates and most of our group decided to grab some food. I wasn’t really hungry, and just wanted to get some coffee, so I began walking toward our gate. As I strolled from C-16 to C-1 I chatted with my parents on the phone and grabbed some java from Seattle’s Best before finding an outlet in our gate area where I could charge my laptop.

After getting off the phone with my parents I was curious to see how much longer I had until the flight would be boarding. As I checked my watch I did a quick scan of the area before realizing, quite curiously, that it was 10:00 pm and there was nary a friendly face in sight.

It seemed strange to me that no one else from the team had made their way down to our new gate when we would be boarding in 20-minutes. So, I packed up my computer and starting looking for a departures board to check on our flight.

However, with no board in sight I opted to give another one of our assistant coaches a call and see where everyone was. The following is the conversation that ensued upon him answering my call:

Nick: “Hey Matt where are you?”

Me: “I’m at our Gate C-1. Where are you guys?”

Nick: “We are boarding man at Gate D-1. You gotta get over here right away.”

Me: “Holy shit Nick! I’m not gonna make it!”

Nick: “Well start moving and get here as quickly as you can.”

So, I did the only thing I could at that point and started running. Let me tell you it is not easy to run with a pair of bags on your shoulders but what could I do at that point besides suck is up and sprint.

I skipped my way up a set of escalators before hopping onto the moving walkway where I was able to make up some time. As I dashed down the long corridor I literally felt like I was the Road Runner being shot out of a cannon at the end of the moving sidewalk, which I have to admit was pretty fun.

As I hurried up another escalator I checked my watch to see that 10-minutes had passed and I had no idea whether the plane was still going to be there. At the top of the escalator I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel as I had reached Gate D-16.

Knowing my fate lie at the end of the hall I put my head down and continued running. D-14, 12, 9 the gates rolled by as I now slowed to a jog. Finally, as I passed D-5 I saw a few of our other coaches standing outside D-1 waving me in like a Marathon runner about to cross the finish line.

When I got within shouting distance they started walking toward me yelling that I had missed it and we all needed to run back to C-7 to make another flight. As I slowed to a walk I shouted back, “You guys better be fucking with me cause I’m not running back!”

We then all broke out laughing and boarded the plane to Fort Myers. However, the funniest part of the whole ordeal was that since there was so much confusion on the departure boards around the airport pertaining to when our flight was leaving, and from what gate, that we didn’t end up leaving until 10:50 pm!

After settling into my seat I was able to piece together the events leading up to my almost missing our flight. Apparently the team was eating when someone realized that the board had changed and our flight was in fact going to be leaving at 10:00 pm. In the ensuing frantic rush to get our players to the gate no one took the time to take a head count and therefore didn’t recognize that I wasn’t there.

In the end though there were no hard feelings and I really didn’t care that we left late or that I had to run across the airport to make the flight because of confusion. All that mattered was that I was safely onboard and therefore wouldn’t to have to spend the night in the airport because in the rush to make our connection the team accidentally left a man behind.

Don’t Touch That!

Call me crazy but I really don’t like when people touch my things. Let me reiterate so we are clear; I Don’t Like When People Touch My Things!

Now that you are aware of my feelings on the subject I should also note that no one is really exempt from this rule, since a few times last summer I even became annoyed with my mom for breaking it.

You see everything in my world has a rightful place and when people touch things they inevitably move and reposition them in such as way that throws of the Feng Shui, if you will, of that particular area.

I understand that it is inevitable that my belongings are going to be touched, moved or rearranged from time to time and I am getting better at dealing with this reality. I know that not everyone shares my compulsion with people not touching their things, but I believe that most reasonable human beings would be able to differentiate when it is and isn’t appropriate to mess with someone else’s stuff.

While it is not my intention to point out a specific individual who has recently had the audacity to take, touch and rearrange things in my room (and this person is not my Grandfather who I live with), I do want to voice my displeasure about the situation.

Whether someone wants to borrow a pillow, take a few granola bars or use my towel I believe that it is common courtesy to ask that person’s permission before going shopping amongst their possessions. Furthermore, if in the process of selecting said items other things were disturbed then I would think that any decent person would at least attempt to put things back the way they were.

Now, I know that my compulsion for order and obsession with people not touching my things, particularly without asking, exacerbates these types of situations but it’s not fair to pin this back on me. Just because I feel that way doesn’t excuse someone from disrespecting and disrupting my personal space.

When I come home after a long day of work I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I am able to walk into my room and see that everything is in the same place where I left it. Furthermore, with all that I am fighting on a day-to-day basis to keep focused and make the best of my situation I certainly don’t believe that I deserve to come home to a disrupted room where several of my things are missing or have been moved.

It is absolutely ridiculous that last night I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed only to discover, for the second time in the past week, that my fucking toothbrush was missing!

Therefore, I’m imploring everyone to have respect for other people and their property because you know what, I’m not crazy, I am who I am, and that is not only someone who doesn’t like when people touch my things but also someone who deserves to have their personal space respected.

You Can All Put Your Parkas Away

It is amazing to me how reactive people and cities can be to dramatic climate changes. Now, I completely understand that it is not necessarily in a city or families best interests to invest money in hypothetical situations that may result from severe weather but that is not what I am referring to here.

I am not talking about the other day when Washington D.C. essentially closed down the Nation’s Capital during a snowstorm that most Midwesterners, such as myself, would not consider severe. I understand the city is not equipped to handle that type of situation at the drop of a dime the way Minneapolis or Boston might.

However, what I am talking about is how many people living in Southwest Florida appear to be somewhat up in arms over our recent temperature drop into the high-50’s and low-60’s during the day. I know that to people who live down here this might seem like the temperature plummeted since they are used to it being a balmy 80 degrees during the day, but in my opinion this hardly represents a “cold front.”

Growing up in Chicago I became very accustomed to fluctuating and severe weather, since one day it’s a beautiful 70-degrees and the next it’s snowing. Seriously, I am not exaggerating since I have lived through this type of unpredictable weather many times.

Therefore I have little sympathy for Floridians who are shivering because the temperature has dropped over the past few days. The fact that it’s 60-degrees outside a few days before Christmas, let alone 80, is incredible to me. The simple fact that I haven’t seen snow and no one who grew up down here has ever heard of the term “wind-chill” boggles my mind.

While many locals are lamenting the recent drop in temperature I honestly love it! Maybe this sounds ridiculous but living in the same 80-degree weather day after day becomes monotonous and I had been yearning for a break from the warmth of the sun and longing to feel a cool breeze as I walked out of my house in the morning Not to mention the fact that it has finally cooled off at night meaning I don’t have to sleep in the buff to keep from sweating.

Look, I think it’s great that there is a tropical part of the United States where people can spent a few months away during the harsh winter season. I can even understand why people would enjoy living here but that’s just not me. I need seasonality and the opportunity to experience the cold winter season.

I don’t think I’ll ever be someone who completely enjoys living in a place (from a climate perspective) where its inhabitants are thrown for a loop when the temperature in late December drops from 80 to 60.

Personally, I miss Chicago and the way the cold makes you feel invigorated and alive while simultaneously freezing your senses. I miss the first snow and waking up in the morning seeing everything covered in a blanket of white. I miss standing outside shivering before the sun peeks it’s head out from behind a cloud and provides me with a jolt of warmth.

It’s funny because when I was younger I used to always complain about winter, cold and especially snow. However, now that I have gone a few years without those things, after living in New Mexico and now Florida, I realize how those much I enjoyed those individual moments. I guess in a lot of ways I was fortunate to grow up in a place where I got to experience different types of weather since if I grew up somewhere without climate variation I might never know the subtle joys of winter that I was missing out on.

The Mysterious Box

This is the true story of a coach, his girlfriend, a waffle maker and an engagement ring.

Once upon a time, in a far off and snowy land called Hanover a young Assistant Basketball Coach had an epiphany one carefree fall afternoon that he would propose to his long time girlfriend on her upcoming visit.

This was fortuitous timing for him to make this decision since his parents were already in town visiting. When he met them the next morning at a local breakfast haven called Lou’s he announced his intentions.

Overjoyed by this news they shared hugs and congratulations with their morning coffee. However, the coach’s youthful mother professed a concern, “What about the ring?”

The young coach knew what his mother was implying in this question since they had already decided that when the time was right he would use a stunning diamond engagement ring that had been passed down from his father’s mother.

The only problem was getting the ring quickly and safely to Hanover since the girlfriend would be visiting shortly after his parents left.

The coach and his mother used all of their collective brainpower to concoct a plan for how to safely transport the ring to Hanover in time.

They cleverly decided that since the coach’s mother made jewelry that she would wrap the ring tightly into a box and ask the girlfriend to bring it when she visited as a gift for the coach’s boss’s wife.

However, they knew that the girlfriend was as intelligent as she was beautiful so they also asked her to bring a clumsy waffle maker to reduce suspicion.

A few days before the girlfriend’s fateful trip she was given the box and waffle maker she would be carrying.

Initially she didn’t think much about the contents of the box until she was sitting at the airport waiting for her flight to board when suddenly it hit her like a bolt of lightning that she was carrying her own engagement ring.

She was immediately overcome by emotion resulting from this enormous conclusion and called several friends to help her calm down and put the situation into perspective.

That evening she flew into Boston ‘s Logan Airport where the coach picked her up without any mention or indication that she had discovered the box’s secret.

The next day while the coach was at work the girlfriend spent the afternoon sitting on the kitchen floor of his apartment in tears completely overwhelmed by the thought of the question she was likely to receive that evening.

When night finally fell she picked the coach up from work and they decided to go on a walk around campus before they headed to Main Street for dinner.

As they strolled along the coach appeared to be becoming more anxious with each step they took in unison.

Finally, across the street from where they had been walking he eyed the ideal spot. A tree still covered in the reds, yellows and oranges of the season’s foliage sat in the center of an empty and perfectly lit courtyard. He directed the future Mrs. Coach in the trees direction before stopping them underneath its expanse of branches.

The ring had been burning a hole in his pocket during their walk, and now it was finally time to put it on the slender finger of its rightful owner.

As he aligned the girlfriend directly across from him he looked into her eyes with a quiet smile. Deciding he didn’t want to take a traditional one-knee approach he remained standing during the proposal so as not to lose a direct line of sight between them.

As he took her hands he slowly and gently slid the ring onto her finger while asking her the question, “Will you marry me?”

As she stared back into his eyes a smile engulfed her face as she answered, “Yes.”

Both overcome with joy they hugged and kissed under the moonlight, savoring every moment.

They then retreated to Main Street where they called family and friends to spread the joyous news.

Unfortunately, two short days later the girlfriend would depart Hanover to fly back home leaving the coach once again longing for his better half, but feeling comforted by the thought that they were now connected forever.

Just as earlier in the story the girlfriend once again took a seat at the airport waiting for her flight to board although this time she didn’t have a clumsy waffle maker weighing down her carry-on bag, and the contents of the mysterious box that had led to her emotional state on the way to Hanover now beautifully adorned her ring finger.

The End

What Can I Say; The Woman Knows Me

It is quite possible, nay probable, that one of my best friends and favorite people in the world Alisa (Buddy) literally knows me better than I know myself. She has always been a keen observer of human nature and an excellent reader of situations as well as judge of people and character.

However, subsequently spawn from this skill set she seems to have completely figured me out. While Alisa has always had a pretty good pulse on me, recently I realized just how locked in on me she actually was.

After work yesterday while I drove down US-41 Tamiami Road Alisa intimated that I had not seemed like myself lately and that perhaps there was something bothering me. Since I am usually overtly aware of my feelings I was a little thrown off by this suggestion, however upon further probing I realized there were a few small things that had been troubling me. These annoyances had collectively added up to a slight demeanor change that Alisa had incredibly detected over the phone in a matter of minutes.

As we spoke further I told her about a few things on my mind, which led to her asking more of the right questions in order to get me to fully disclose my emotional state. What was so interesting about this conversation was the fact that I wasn’t even aware that my tone or manner of speech had changed in a way that it conveyed any unhappiness or frustration.

Amazingly she had figured out that there were a few issues under the surface that I was repressing and needed to be coaxed out before I did.

Although, my emotional state is not the only thing that Alisa correctly pitted me on. You see she has been telling me for months that I need to start watching the show “How I Met Your Mother,” but since the show is on Season 5, and she was adamant that I needed to watch from the beginning, I’ve had trouble starting the series.

However, yesterday I finally stumbled onto a site that had all the “How I Met Your Mother” episodes available for free dating back to the original pilot. I figured since my dance card for last night was empty that I would watch a few episodes on my laptop and gain an initial impression of the show.

Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that Alisa has suggested television shows to me in the past, and has had so much confidence in the notion that I would enjoy her recommendation that she has bought me the DVDs before I ever viewed the program. I should also note that each time she has done this I have instantly fallen in love with the show.

Therefore, it should have come as no surprise that I was immediately hooked on “How I Met Your Mother,” and after only four episodes was calling her to talk about the show and praise her recommendation.

However, it was only after I had begrudgingly convinced myself to stop watching and go to sleep that I began thinking about how well Alisa knew me. After contemplating this thought for only a few minutes I quickly recognized how often Alisa makes correct assertions about my feelings, tastes and preferences.

This was a welcome realization because I have struggled since losing Barbara with the idea that there was no longer someone who knew me with such a level of intimacy. However, last night, even though she was 1,300 miles away, I felt at ease in knowing that there was still someone in my life who truly knew me better than I knew myself, which to me is one of the most comforting feelings in the world.

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Living A Catch 22

I am so frustrated with myself right now. I just can’t figure out what is wrong with me. I mean I’ve never been the most social person in the world but over the past few years I honestly think I have regressed in certain social situations.

Whereas I have never been great when placed in large groups, in the past I have been at least willing to attempt to be social and therein work on my deficiency. However, over the past few years I have developed a large group phobia that is preventing me from even entering into large group situations unless I know a majority of the people or have someone there that I can cling to.

If either one of these preconditions is met then I am normally just fine in large groups, however in my current situation living in Fort Myers this isn’t usually the case. Since I have only been living and working here for a couple months I haven’t yet achieved a level of comfort with the people who work around me in the Athletic Department.

While on a day-to-day basis I am fairly social and will usually engage in conversations whenever I get the chance, I am yet to participate in a large group event with any of these people. This is where my large group social phobia kicks in and I become paralyzed by the thought of taking part.

This was particularly apparent last evening when the Athletic Department hosted its staff Holiday Party. There was absolutely no reason why I couldn’t attend this shindig, but I didn’t. I tried all yesterday afternoon to convince myself that unless I attended events like this then I would never get to know my co-workers better, and therefore perpetuate the debilitating cycle I already found myself in.

This is the same problem I have had recently with dating. I know that once I am on a date in a one-on-one social situation that I will be very comfortable and easily able to be myself, however since I don’t have much of a rapport with anyone I am once again caught in a goddamn catch 22.

I know what you’re thinking. Why won’t this guy just jump?

Well, I have been asking myself that question a lot recently. In the past I have given myself an excuse since my situation has been temporary and therefore didn’t want/need to engage in much social activity since I would soon be leaving, but I can’t live like that anymore and I’m not.

So what is it then? Why can’t I just take the leap and enter into an unfamiliar large social situation or ask a random girl in the office out for coffee?

I honestly don’t now the answer to that question, but with each passing day that I am unable to do either of those things I become madder and more frustrated with myself. Perhaps the only way to get past this incapacitating phobia is for me to finally get pissed off and decide that I’m sick of watching fucking NBA games on Friday nights in my room instead of being out and attempting to be social.

Hopefully this Blog will be one of the last steps before I finally do get mad enough to change my situation because if I continue down this lonely road it’s only a matter of time before my “jump” is off a cliff and not into the social scene.

Exercising My Body And Mind At The Same Time

It was around this time last year when I magically became an avid reader. This transformation was out of the blue since I had never shown the slightest bit of interest in reading in the past neither academically nor for pleasure.

In fact, I can’t remember completing more than a handful of books cover-to-cover, and even those were for school and I was forced to read them. I own A Tale of Two Cites, glanced over The Great Gatsby, began reading Seabiscuit and actually read Catcher in the Rye but only because my Great American Writers class junior of high school literally hinged on me reading the entire book.

As sad and pathetic as it may seem before last New Years I simply didn’t enjoy reading anything longer than a magazine article. However, unexpectedly and incredibly I of all the sudden found a passion for reading when our Head Coach at Dartmouth gave me a copy of Rebound Rules: The Art of Success 2.0 by Rick Pitino (the current Head Men’s Basketball Coach at the University of Louisville) for the holidays.

One afternoon during the College’s winter break last year I was feeling antsy at the office and decided, as I often did, to go upstairs to the Fitness Center and exercise on the elliptical. However, I had been becoming increasingly bored with watching ESPN in the middle of the day so I decided to give reading my new book a shot.

Like a jolt of lightening I was mesmerized as I read a few chapters before tearing myself away to get ready for practice. After practice that evening I once again returned to the gym solely to read more of the book. Within a week I was done and had moved onto a biography of John Wooden (the former Head Men’s Basketball Coach at UCLA).

At the same time I began reading a book on the history of Art and immediately found myself flying through both simultaneously. I then moved into different types of literature reading Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time, Anthony Bourdain’s The Bobby Gold Stories: A Novel and George Orwell’s Animal Farm establishing a practice of reading any book no matter what genre.

At the same time I developed two ways of discovering which books to read next; a) someone would recommend a book for me to read and provided me with a copy or b) by searching through the discounted shelves and racks at book stores for interesting authors and topics.

By far the person that has recommended the most books for me to read is my friend Jeff (and yes we share more than a love for eating). Every time I see him I give him back a few books that I’ve finished and he in turns hands me a few new ones. He’s given me books from a variety of subjects ranging from economics, pop culture; even poker and I’ve read every word.

Other friends and family have given me books to read as well, and I’ll get to them all eventually because I rarely go a day without reading. This is primarily due to the fact that the only time I read is when I am engaging in cardiovascular exercise. Whether I’m on the elliptical or the stationary bike I hardly watch television anymore at the gym, and instead of numbing my mind by watching ESPN I stimulate it by reading.

Out of nowhere I have seemingly become addicted to reading and the way it excites my mind and imagination. Furthermore, I have come to realize that the sense of accomplishment that accompanies completing a book is truly awesome and one that I now crave.

I’ve felt that sense of fulfillment 34 times in the past 11+ months, and with just under two weeks left in 2009 I feel confident that I’ll get at least one more chance before New Years since I am currently steaming rolling my way through Inherit the Wind.

For a guy who never had the faintest interest in reading for pleasure in the past it is amazing to me that I am now so addicted to reading. I guess you never know when you are going to grow into certain habits and learn to enjoy things you never thought you would.

In the end it may have taken me a lot longer than most people to develop a love and excitement for reading but I have caught the bug nonetheless, and thanks to my friends and family particularly Jeff, I don’t think I’ll be running out of books to read any time soon.