Bizarro Thursday

Lately it occurs to me:
What a long, strange trip it's been
--Truckin', The Grateful Dead

Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away,
and leaves only silence
--Pam Brown
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Lisa has just returned from a new yoga class, in the lineage of what could be called the "painful yoga" style, as it seemed full of yoga show offs ("Hey, let's do Eagle!") seeking the most painful and tortuous 1 1/2 hour experience they could create.

While admiring the complementary colors of the chap with the green hair next to me on his purple mat, the instructor appeared to push me into a more correct "Warrior". Though appreciative of his effort, the heavy cigarette odor on his person was almost too much to bear. (This explained his frequent recourse to breathing and drinking while the others were left in their pretzel positions.) Isn't yoga about health?

Before that, Ranger had dropped by for his semi-daily editorial meeting when my dear friend Dorian dropped in for quick "goodbye" en route to Miami for his medical internship. He is specializing in rehabilitating Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) cases.

"He has a bright future ahead of him in TBI work," I said. Immediately thereafter that seemed a very odd thing to say.

In a better world, TBI would not be a burgeoning career track.