Welcome back, vultures - as a couple of you know, Dr. Craig has returned to his motha'land o' australia (still lower cased - actually, let's change this, if I may. One of the standout trends around here (and apparently in Sydney and Perth) is that women exhibit an exorbitant amount of cleavage. Sundresses, tank tops, and bare-minimally buttoned oxford shirts for the business ladies - the northernmost hemisphere of the breast is nearly always revealed, and in many cases the inner quadrant (outside of lab employees, I should add). I've used this analogy before, but it's fitting: these appendages peek above bust lines like periscopes on the open water. So now that this situation has been fully revealed, I shall refer to my host country thusly: The Land of the Plunging Neckline). Anyway, Craig is in the Land of the Plunging Neckline for a cancer conference, and so I am basically his tourguide in Melbourne, what amounts to a foreign city for this poor bloke. I aptly decided that beer and chinese food was the appropriate mechanism by which jetlag could be overcome, and verily it came to pass that I would take him around the big city (he's a sheep farmer at heart). Overwhelmed by the skyscrapers and peculiar sounds new to his virgin ears, he reached my hand for reassurance. Playing the Curious George to my Man in the Yellow Hat, Craig was able to get a taste of metropolitan life (and some fantastic sizzling mongolian lamb....the lamb was sizzling, not the mongolian from whom the lamb was obtained). Actually, he did stay overnight at my palacial abode, and didn't even get pinworm.
So as for the tidal (wow, phenomenal subconscious spelling - title) of this entry, Craig reported hearing a somewhat domestic disturbance last night (it was somewhat of a disturbance, and fully domestic). My drug and alcohol riddled housemate couple were shouting something at each other (once I distinctly heard a, "if you didn't hit me then why is my face bleeding?!" - coming from the guy, not to worry). So it continued tonight while I was right there in the kitchen, naturally avoiding confrontation. The point is, these cats are way out there. And you know who else is way out there? Bill Walton. Since in my immediately recent experience the circle for 'way out there' overlaps (in a Venn Diagram) the circle for 'copious drug use', and since Bill Walton is clearly a member of the sample 'way out there', he must be a hardcore mind altering substance abuser. Evidence for this is easily obtained from the internet; espn.com has podcasts, one of them being "Walton's World," in which ol' William Walton (let's not forget to give him his due, though, the cat's got rings and a passing game unrivaled by maybe all big men in the history of the game, save maybe Arvydis Sabonis - and of course Larry Legend, who shouldn't really be considered a big man, but when you're 6'11" it happens) pontificates on the current state of the NBA. Too lazy to check it out for yourself? (I highly recommend it though, because seriously, he makes about as much sense as Ozzy Osborne, and you can actually understand the words coming out of his mouf, so that's saying something). First off, it's set to highly serene, coma inducing hippie music (which should probably be piped into the Iranian-Iraqi border in order to curb violence in that region), and W.W. speaks so soothingly you'd think he was attempting to lure Cujo to lick his face. With such common phrases as "Oh me oh my" he delves into basketball's most obvious storylines. He then proceeded to refer to TJ Ford as "effervescent." Now, Ford is an enthusiastic, cat-quick, pass-first point guard - but bubbly? I'd have to give that a resounding "negatron." Finally, Bill gave me a phrase that I don't even know in what context it should be used: "when things go wrong, it's usally because the fish stinks from the head down." Right. Maybe the stinky ganja is affecting W-squared from the head down, but you can bet your ass I'll be using that phrase as often as possible until people start second guessing my ability to logically form sentences. And you know what else, Willy? I'm not gonna cite you or give you credit when I say it; I think you stole that phrase from your pals the pink elephants.
Finally, despite my[historically documented] incessant rebukes towards those pining away for med-school resume validation, I have recently begun (slightly) stressing over the upcoming application process. Not because I lack the confidence that I am a stellar next contestant on the Price [of edcucation] is Right, but just over the punctuality in essays and recommendations required, and the fact that I just don't feel like writing essays about how good I am. Seriously. That, and because it is my chosen lot to stress about things. Just ask my boy Russ. The point is that I was at the gym, and saw someone with a Melbourne Uni. Med School T-shirt, and of course was reminded that I'll soon have to put into words my reasons for choosing the medical path (and by path I mean epic barren roadway, flanked on either side by highway robbers). So the obvious next psychological step was to think of very people-oriented doctors. And do you know who the most altruistic physician in history was? Osler? No. Aschlepius? Nope. Dr. Kavorkian? Keep Guesssing. It's only fair if I tell you that fictionalized characters count here. And no, it's not Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, and Dr. No is slightly wrong. Give up? Perhaps the most caring, magnanimous doctor in the history of all mankind is Dr. Moonlight Graham, or Archie as he was known to his ghost-team. The guy freaking gave up his dream of playing baseball (with Shoeless Joe, no less) to cross the line denoting the field of play and save Kevin Costner's (Ray Kinsella's) choking daughter. And then disappeared into corn! Oh man. First, if you don't know what I'm talking about, stop reading right here and go watch Field of Dreams. Second, if you have even a modicum of a soul, you should be getting chills right about now thinking of that scene. I was preparing to deadlift, thought about the movie (that scene specifically), and got goosebumps everywhere. Oh man I'm dying to play baseball right now.
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