I’ve always been a Monty Python fan. Of course growing up male in the 70s, liking Monty Python and being able to quote most of the sketches line for line was a badge of honor among my friends and me. I got to the point where I could pick up just about any sketch just by someone repeating one line.
I even went so far as to create and run a Monty Python D&D dungeon that I ran at a major gaming convention for two years. I wrote songs and sketches and had a great time. I think it was the first time I really realized how much I enjoyed entertaining other people. It’s probably the main reason I like telling jokes and making people laugh.
Making people laugh is as much of an antidepressant as any of the other medications I’ve ever tried. Robin Williams had a great explanation for why this happens:
“I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy. Because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.”
My own experience is that I’m funnier when I’m feeling depressed. I always seem to come up with my best ideas then. I don’t know if it’s a matter of my brain self medicating or if it’s a matter of the connections that make for humor being loosened up because I’m busy focusing on how lousy I feel.
I’ve been recovering from a broken leg for the last 4 1/2 months.
The top bit is from this particular ride. The bottom bit is from when I crushed my tibia over 20 years ago. I’m gonna be a laff-riot at the airport.
The doc says I’m going to need knee replacement surgery, because there’s no cartilage left and everything in the knee is bone on bone. However, to do that, they have to wait for the femur to heal and then they will take out the hardware. I’m assuming that they will have to wait for the holes left by taking out the screws before they can actually do the final surgery. It’s a lot like those tired TV plots where to get what he wants the hero has to take care of a rediculous series of other errands before the person he needs to help him will do so.
I suppose in another 10 years, I will look back on all this and laugh, but I won’t because I have to take my whole body in for a lube job and a tune up.
There are some who predict we will eventually experience a singularity between man and machine. I suspect that will be true for a future tech savvy generation. The rest of us will stumble around, trying to figure out how to set up the stations on our satellite radio in our self driving cars.
As part of my attempt to get back to writing here more regularly, I went back and read all of my entries for the last 5 years or so. The first thing I noticed was that I am not very good at proofreading, the second thing I realized was that I absolutely called the Trumpocalypse we are living through now.
I am really unhappy to have been right.
I’ve not written here for several years, but now I have gotten the writing bug back, so I will try to do better. Not that anyone was waiting around for me to write anything, but it makes me feel better to think somebody might be reading this.
In the last three years, I have:
- Found a job I thought I was my dream job
- Discovered I shouldn’t try to do jobs that require a lot of attention to detail, or at least not development type jobs where I am not the only developer or am doing maintenance.
- Was allowed to change roles to being a business analyst, job I’m much more suited to, provided I can keep my ADD in check.
- Broke my femur almost immediately after
- Written quite a few posts on LinkedIn
The most interesting thing about breaking your leg is how much it puts a number of other things into much clearer perspective. For instance, the day it happened, I discovered that there was profanity in my vocabulary in languages that I don’t actually speak. I also discovered that pain meds are both a god send and highly overrated. They seem to be designed to lower the pain just enough to make it tolerable, but never enough so that you no longer feel it at all, at least not unless you take enough to become unconscious.
Four months later, I’m still staggering around on a walker, and hoping that things will heal up so that I can go back in to get a knee replacement, since there isn’t any cartilage left in the knee joint. This results in my being reluctant to put much weight on the leg, which is not helping my recovery, needless to say.
Physical Therapy has been fun. I’ve decided that Physical Therapy is an exercise in the Physical Therapist asking if you can do something, you replying “Yes, but it hurts like hell!” The response is then “Okay do it for two sets of 10!”
But when I start to get down, I seem to figure out a way to say “It’ll get better eventually.” or “At least they didn’t have to take it off.” Which may seem a bit morbid, but hey, any port in a storm.