What do you feel passionate about? What is your dream? What do you want to do with your life? While some may dismiss these questions as excessively introspective, I think they are at the heart of human existence. I’m still searching for my answers.

——

About a month ago, I had the pleasure of going to Las Vegas for the weekend with some friends. It was my first trip to the city of sin. Like everybody, I had read about it and seen pictures, but the reality blew me away.

The opulence of the Strip stuns the senses before the plane even lands. Hedonistic excess abounds wherever one turns. On one side of the road, a model of the Eiffel Tower juts from the ground. On the other, a multi-acre fountain glistens in the sun. Both are so out of place as to be gaudy desert blights, evidence of money being spent for the sake of spending money. I wonder what future archeologists will think when they discover a giant black pyramid in the heart of the North American continent?

Our group stayed in one of the newer casinos, the Bellagio. It was far and away the finest hotel in which I have ever had the pleasure of lodging. Amazing lobby, wonderful art in the hallways, incredibly comfortable beds, wonderfully appointed rooms, and a decent view. The card room wasn’t bad either, which was a good thing, because I spent a large amount of time there.

Aside from playing lots of poker, my group also experienced a fine meal at Craftsteak and an absolutely astonishing performance of the Cirque du Soleil show, Ka.

Overall, it was a great weekend, and better yet, I took enough money off of the other poker players to pay for a large chunk of the trip.

——

That leads me to my next adventure. When I went to Europe in 2004, I never had the change to visit the United Kingdom. I’ve been considering a trip to rectify that omission, but it’s never worked out. Well, that’s about to change.

This afternoon, I decided to be spontaneous and take action before the little voices of reason and fiscal austerity inside my head could mount a defense: On the second anniversary of my first trip to Europe, I will be in London, England.

I’ve purchased the plane tickets but haven’t thought everything through, so if you have any advice about places to stay, things to do, or things to see, I want to hear it. Also, in the (admittedly remote) possibility that anybody else wants to go, I’d obviously like to hear about that, too.

You know it’s cold outside when an ice arena feels warm.

Four years ago, this site took on its current form: a blog. Including comments, there are nearly 90,000 words that would require over 250 pages to print out. Therefore, in celebration, let us look back to my favorite five posts. It should come as little surprise that most of my favorite posts are written as stories.

(In reverse order of preference)

• 5 – The tale of car repair
• 4 – The succinct story of the bull run (as opposed to the more detailed account)
• 3 – The narrative of my triathlon experience
• 2 – The story of Bid Tuesday
• 1 – The Porsche

Two more posts that almost made the list are my commentary on Duck Duck Gray Duck and my first homecoming as an alumnus.

For the curious, here is my longest entry and my shortest post.



Here’s to many more years of writing!

One year ago, I first stepped onto the ice as a goalie. I’ve loved every moment since then.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, I never played team sports growing up (save for two brief stints when I was very young that I hardly remember). I wish I would have started playing organized hockey when I was younger, but I am glad that I did finally start playing competitively last year. All it took was the will to get off my duff, the humility to admit that I needed lessons, and, frankly, the financial wherewithal to fund the endeavor (not exactly cheap, hockey).

I ran into a guy the other week at a game of shinny who was in his 70s. In spite of my late start, if my body holds out until I too am a septuagenarian, I could play for half a century. I like that thought. I wonder how the game will change by 2055? (For comparison, in 1955, ice hockey goalies were not yet wearing masks)

I must admit that my current team is a bit deficient in the offense department. Well, the defense could stand to improve, too. In other words, we’re not very good. By way of example: In our five games so far this season, we have been out-shot every time, between 10 and 30 shots per game. At 40-45 total shots per games, at least I’m getting plenty of experience. I just wish that I had more of a chance with some of those shots.

I believe that every shot is stoppable. With hindsight, I can figure out exactly how I could have saved every shot that ended up getting past me. I screw up my fair share, and I’ve let in plenty of “easy” goals, but I’m getting better.

Of course, some situations are nearly impossible, particularly 2-on-0 breakaways and one-timers off back-door passes. In fact, either of those plays, if executed properly, should result in a goal. I find myself facing such scenarios quite often, and it’s frustrating. Want to know the best way to look like a better goaltender? Get better defensemen.



Ragged defense or no, I enjoy playing goal. There are few thrills like coming up with a clutch glove save on a breakaway. I love learning a new save. I love getting better, stronger, quicker, and smarter. I love learning from past errors and twisting a player’s predictable shooting habits into stellar saves. It’s hard work — MUCH harder than it looks — but I love it.

Drop the puck!

Fire is a simple thing, really.

Fuel is heated until it gives off gasses. The gasses combine with oxygen. The reaction produces heat. The heat perpetuates the cycle. Take away any of these elements — remove the fuel, exclude the oxygen, cool the system, or interfere with the chemical reaction — and the fire will cease. This is the art of firefighting.

Or so I thought.

It turns out that firefighting is far more complicated than simply “putting the wet stuff on the red stuff.” For example, some fires can only be effectively extinguished by covering them with a dry power; putting water or foam on burning metal will often exacerbate the flames. Then there’s search and rescue, salvage and overhaul, the seemingly endless folding of hoses… the list goes on. Thanks to a class that I’ve been taking these past few months, I got to learn many of these skills.

Before the class, I could write the chemical equations that describe fire with ease. For example, the complete combustion of carbon monoxide can be described as: 2 CO + O₂ -> 2 CO₂. Before the class, I had used a fire extinguisher on a single occasion to (unsuccessfully) extinguish a fire. Before the class, I had driven a fire truck and randomly actuated enough of its levers to get it to pump water.

Now that I’ve taken the class, I know the best water patterns to battle blazes in certain situations. I appreciate things such as thermal layering. I know how to read the fire and predict its behavior: Is a flashover imminent? Where is the seat of the fire? Will a backdraft occur if I open that door?



Thanks to the class, I can now do forcible entry (useful for when a locked building is on fire). Hoses, nozzles, and hydrants are no longer a mystery. How about ventilating buildings with chainsaws, axes, and fans? Yup, I learned that too.

I even learned about pike poles, which some argue are the tools that began the association of Pike with fire trucks. (Warning, tangent ahead: What if a Pike chapter took it upon themselves to do something to benefit the local fire department, in a charity sort of way?)

Learning book knowledge is great, but hands-on experience can’t be beat. That’s why my favorite parts of the class were the labs. Of those, my favorite labs were the ones with live fire. There’s nothing like “playing” with real water and real fire! With both the physical and mental tasks committed to memory, I was prepared for certification.



A week ago, I took the state “Firefighter I” certification test. It consisted of a 150-question multiple-choice test and four practical tests. The practical tests were: knots and ropes, salvage and overhaul, tool cleaning and maintenance, and search and rescue with SCBA. I aced three of them and got a 92% on the search and rescue evolution. The written test seemed easy, but I won’t have an official score for a couple of weeks. Regardless, barring some complete mental lapse on my part, I believe that I successfully completed the firefighter certification. Woohoo!

Overall, the class was a fun, enlightening experience, an excellent diversion from the routine cubicle existence of my full-time job. The class was well-run, and the teacher was one of the best that I’ve had — Rose profs or otherwise.

So, now what? Well, I’d still like to be a volunteer firefighter once I move to an area that has such a department. I like the idea of battling fire and saving lives and property. I just don’t think that I would want to be a career firefighter; besides, it is insanely difficult to get a job as a full-time fireman. In the meantime, I’ll content myself with memories of the class and stories in books. My firefighter certification will be just one among many other licenses that I don’t use: firearms, motorcycle, and ham radio, to name a few. For now, all I need to do is to make sure that my future house is close to a fire station.