Monday, March 30, 2009

My Murtaugh List


"Life is a dinner and old-age is the dessert." (Ted, How I Met Your Mother)

"I'm too old for this shit!" (Roger Murtaugh, Lethal Weapon -->)   

I am an old man before my time.  I would live happiest in a world of early-bird dinner specials and daily trips to the grocery store that only procure a single item.  In honor of my loving embrace of old-age, I bring you my Murtaugh List.  These are the things I'm too old to do and quite frankly, don't want to do anymore. 

Drinking to the point of throwing up - I might never have been young enough to do this.  Then again, I don't think it's youth that one requires, it's stupidity.  Still, I've spoken to Ralph on the porcelain phone more than once.  I've got to tell ya, I've never had a night that was good enough to merit dry heaving the next morning until you can see the angels.

Staying up past 11pm - I'll do it, I will.  I just won't enjoy it.  My days are busy.  Hell, my life is busy.  I like it that way.  Sleep is probably my favorite thing.  I won't rob myself of the things I love.

Thinking that it's cool to be "that guy" - I tried a little in high school, never tried in college and embraced my inner geek in dental school (not a big reach).  "Those guys" and "those girls" from high school keep showing up on my Facebook telling me how awesome they are, what cool nights they have planned ("Cocktails with my bestest girlies!") and what great accomplishments they've made in life ("That guy" is "so bummed because I got called in to work.  I hate you Gap, Inc.!").  I'm too old to be that guy.  I really am awesome, I really do have cool plans and I actually have accomplished a whole lot.

Facebook/iChat - I think I'm too old for these things, but I refuse to give them up.  When the time comes to give them up, will it be obvious to me?  All signs point to no, as I've recently begun seeing parents of friends arrive on the social networking scene.  God help me if I continue to update my status with things like, "Patients all day then picking up kid #1 from the babysitter while wife takes kid #2 to pediatrician because he/she has an earache.  Uggh!"

So, what's on your list?

Thursday, March 26, 2009

How Things Came To Be This Way

How things came to be this way is the theme for the first half of Ishmael, the book that I'm currently reading.  It sets out to make you examine the world as you know it, showing you that the facts of mankind are only myths (because it all depends on who you ask to tell the story).

We all have a way of believing that the world was made for us to use as we see fit.  In reality, our existence on the planet can only be equated to the length a single song on a greatest hits album.  Still, we are powerful and intelligent and we seek to conquer the world.  In the early days of expansion we conquered the West.  We conquered space when we put a man on the moon.  We have even conquered man himself by mapping the genetic code.

We have conquered all these things but yet we can't really explain how things came to be this way.  There is life around us that is regarded as less and yet it continues to thrive.  The civilized and the wild.  It seems to be that the wild has done a better job at conquering.

This afternoon I saw a single goose cautiously navigate a 5 lane road, traffic moving in both directions.  His strength to venture across the sea of asphalt impressed me.  He moved slowly, almost seeming to look before stepping into each successive lane to ensure his safe passage.  He turned back once or twice, but persevered and made it across.  The goose conquered civilization.

I've never hugged a tree and am as guilty as the next person for accepting my role in the universe.  I know that "progress" won't stop because a few well-intentioned but poorly listened to groups of people want us to adopt a manatee or save a spider or plant a bean sprout.
Still, I couldn't help but smile as the wild goose conquered the ways of the civilized man.

In The House

This morning, this is what the Universe had to say to me.  I enjoyed it.

Warming planet - check.
Species on brink of extinction - check.
Ice caps melting - check.
Economies in chaos - check. 
Ryan Comfort "in the house" - the one and only.

Grab a seat.  We're about to witness the most exciting comeback in history.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Don't Hate, Participate

Today I had an appointment with - arguably - my craziest patient.  To hold this distinction is saying a lot because they're all crazy.  This gentleman, though, has always impressed me as someone who wasn't playing with all the cards in the deck - or maybe just playing with the low numbers.  This afternoon he offered to give me a mixed tape of songs he liked and thought I would enjoy.  I haven't had the capacity to play a mixed tape since I was probably 13.

. . . . .

I've had a rough go of it these last 7 months.  Some really serious health issues forced me to take a good look at my self and my life.  A few trips to the emergency room, a nice long stay at the hospital and the prospect of major organ failure and surgery to remove large parts of my insides will do that to a guy.  Without a doubt it was the darkest and saddest time of my life. Still,  I can't help but look at how I benefited from it, just as well.

When you suddenly realize that you're not invincible you begin to look at the world and the people in it differently.  I hoped and prayed as hard as I knew how for nothing more than my life back.  Health and happiness.  The time-tested mantra.

Now that I am "healthy" (which, to me now, is such a confusing term), I have a deeper appreciation for the silent battles that every person I meet every day quietly fights.  There were times when I would be waiting in a line at a store or bank and pain would grip me.  What was my own desire to get out of where I was and back to a place I felt safe and could take care of my problems was often viewed by those around me as annoyance or a bad attitude about the long line we were waiting in.  They saw me on the outside and I looked fine.  They had no idea what battle I was fighting.

It seems that no one is immune to personal struggle.  Some of ours are bigger than others but each has equal weight to the person who has to carry it.  So today, when my crazy patient told me that he wanted his new teeth to be chrome and look like a vampire.  A few moments before that, as he dropped my mirror, he told me that he didn't need seven years of bad luck - he had already had eighteen.  I caught myself as I got annoyed.

My crazy patient is still a nut, but he has struggles just like I do.  He always asks me how I'm feeling, tells me that I look good and healthy and takes a genuine interest in my life.  Today, towards the end of the appointment, I started to do the same for him.  He likes NASCAR, he makes wax candles and he has a niece who likes when he makes funny faces without his teeth.

He's bringing me my mixed tape at our next appointment.  

Thursday, March 19, 2009

My Kind of Town

My friend-about-NYC, Lisa (that's her new nickname - it's long but awesome), got a little bullied by the city she loves this morning.  Read about her misadventures, here.

This morning, north of the Hudson River, I woke up and it was quiet.  The sun was shining through the window and there wasn't a single hint of industry or mass-transit to greet me.  Ah, nature.  

Oh, good morning, Mr. Robin. . . you're a day early, tomorrow is the first day of Spring.  Silly little, pretty avian friend.  No worries, all is well in Endwell.  

Anyone want to go cow tipping?

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Stupid Human Ideas

"How many times has this happened?  You're playing 18 holes with your best buddies, drinking sport-"ades", water, beer, etc.  You're coming up to the 3rd hole with no rest room in sight.  There are no trees or bushes around and you just have to go, what are you going to do?

UroClub is the answer!

Capacity: Over half a liter, twice the amount normally urinated.

Length:  Like a standard 7 iron.  (Yeah, that should about do it)

Proof that even idiots need to make money.

Ryan is "not still wrapped up in high school life, but thinks it's way funny that you definitely are."

Dear Lisa, 

Thanks for stopping by to read my blog today.  I'm glad to have a daily role in your web surfing life.

So, remember how we were talking about how we wouldn't do high school again?  Our reason being that we were beyond high school from the moment we started it.  You said you missed the college days, in fact, me thinks you said you loved them.  I didn't.  My own fault probably, but I got thinking. . .I was beyond college from the first day I got there, too. 

You'll be glad to know that I've finally found my groove.  Dentistry-ing is awesome. (Don't laugh) Turns out dental school was just what I needed.  On the first day I thought I would try to be a "new" Ryan.  I thought it would be good to try to become some of those cool college kids that I had often heard of and occasionally seen.  Well, there were a few of those types in dental school, but it turns out there were also some who were just like me - the "old" Ryan (and I use "old" both figuratively and literally in this situation - you understand).

To use your words, I loved dental school.  I made awesome study guides and created some really cool spreadsheets.  Man, studying is fun!  Sure, the last four years were hell, but I would never trade the experience. 

So, friend-about-NYC, Lisa, I found it.  It wasn't high school and it wasn't college.  Dental school did it for me.  I have felt, for the last four years, that I really belong where I am.  Being a dentist is the first thing I've ever tried that I truly believed I was great at.  

What do you say we take to Facebook and let all those "cool" kids from high school know how awesome we are at this exact moment?  

Your Friend,
Ryan

Monday, March 16, 2009

Do You Have ID?




It all started with a phone conversation with the service guy at the dealership where I took my car.  I called up at the end of the day asking if it was done yet (it was, they just hadn't bothered to call me and let me know. . .but that's another story).  The super-old guy (I assume) on the other end of the phone told me, "Yeah, don't worry about anything buddy, we took care of the problem." After asking how much it would cost and hearing the response, crumbly-aged-guy said, "Is that gonna be okay pal?"  Yeah, it's gonna be fine you old curmudgeon, I'm 26 years old.

Today, I went to the eye doctor and he kindly stepped outside his realm of expertise and told me that when I get out of my teen years those, "few blemishes on [my] forehead will clear up."  Then he told me that I had a lot to look forward to in my twenties.  Thanks doc, I've enjoyed them so far.  I'm 26 years old.

So here's to all of us who are perpetually carded, get asked if our mommy's or daddy's are home when someone calls and can't help that we look consistently 16.  

I'm 26 years old.  And by the way, that's Doctor Buddy, to you.

Sunday, March 15, 2009


Go Bearcats!

I love this town.  


Saturday, March 14, 2009

Used Book Smell

Today in the mail I received a "new" book I bought on half.com.  Daniel Quinn's Ishmael.  The book promises to make you want to change the world.  Which made me think that sometimes, I wish things would just stay the same.  Alright, most of the time.  What's the obsession with new? Improved? Shiny?  With age comes wisdom, no?  Some things really do get better with age.

I need it to be known:  I don't do change.  I bought my new MacBook and had a 24 hour time period where I stressed that it wasn't exactly like my old one (not to worry, Mac never disappoints and it's better than my old one).  I've had panic attacks when the TV station changes the channels that my stations are on.  

Getting the used but new-to-me book in the mail today was comforting.  The pages are little worn and yellowed, the binding with some wrinkles from use.  I like the smell of it.  It smells like a library.  I don't know where the book came from and who owned it before me or how many people have read it.  I can imagine that it lived a comfortable life on a bookshelf somewhere after a brainy university Literature major read it for a class that I would never have taken myself.  Said student might have then passed it on to a friend.  Friend read it only half-way through thinking it's boring and sold it at a garage sale.  Buyer is an avid ebay-er and likes to resell their purchases online for profit.  I bought it, it's mine now. 

I promise this new (old) book that life with me will be easy.  I'll read the story, but won't read into it.  I won't toss it to the recycle bin when I'm done or sell it at a yard sale.  I'll pass it on to a friend and the story of this copy of Ishmael will continue.

I like the smell of a new car and I like my shiny, new MacBook.  I like old buildings with history.  I like the old mansions on Riverside Drive.  I like novels that have seen some of the world and come back a little yellow and a little worn.