Monday, April 14, 2008

Snake Wrangler

Some time ago, after a few (or several) beers with Dr. J3K, we made a bet that if I successfully wrangled a live rattlesnake with only my hands and a snake stick, he'd buy me a helmet cam. If I was unsuccessful in my attempt, I get to pay my own medical bills and struggle for my survival.

In the aftermath of that glorious occasion when the bet was made, I realized that, prior to working with rattlers, I'd probably need to warm up with something smaller and less dangerous. Although I thought that my wife didn't want to see undertake the challenge, she's obviously trying to help me train by scaring up serpents in our yard while she plants flowers.

This thing was at least three and a half feet long.
The camera angle may make it seem smaller and me seem gigantic.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

The Waiting Game Continues...

Being one who isn't content to enough to finalize anything, I was thankful to receive word from Mercer that I'm on their alternate list. Effectively, this means that they like me, they really like me ... but they don't want to commit to me just yet. So, if any of the other lads or lasses decide to go elsewhere for their medical education, I'll get called up to the bigs ... possibly ... over the summer ... or as late as August. Glad to keep waiting. Way to go, me!

Friday, April 04, 2008

Spread Peace

Several years ago, I took the following photo during a trip to Memphis. I visited the Lorraine Motel, site of MLK's assassination and home to the National Civil Rights Museum. Although the museum's exhibits guide you through the Civil Rights movement, they essentially push you toward the site of the shooting.

The final exhibit in the museum leads you to King's motel rooms, which have been pretty much preserved as they were at the time, and to the balcony where he was shot down. On the day of my visit, the sky was overcast and generally quiet except for the sounds of the flag whipping in the wind.

Spread peace.

It's hard to put into words how awful it felt to stand there and to put yourself into that scene, to imagine yourself part of a grainy, black and white photograph, pointing at the sound of gunfire as your friend, leader, hope lay dead beside you.

What if...? What if...? What if...?