Shameless self-promotion

This Sunday at 2:30, I have a concert! I'm playing the alto saxophone in a band of about 50 people. The concert is in the Old Strathcona area of Edmonton. Tickets cost $5 to $12, depending on your age and when you buy them. There's more information available on the Cosmopolitan Music Society website. Hope to see you there!

And there will be food afterward.

Being an elite athlete is overrated

"StrengthPlanet.com reveals that the average elite athlete will die by the age of 67, considerably lower then the 76 year life expectancy of the average North American."
--"Fame's Dark Shadows", Edmonton Sun, March 1, 2009

Sometimes it seems like my most active friends and acquaintances are the ones who need more medical treatment. Usually it's from strains, sprains, and breaks from being active, not cancer, heart problems, or other issues that are connected to less healthy lifestyles. It seems like they're "out of commission", unable to participate in hiking, sports, and stuff more often than my moderately active friends. Some of the older ones have some serious knee and hip problems too. This doesn't make me want to be as active as them.

And now I see this article saying elite athletes tend to die 9 years earlier than the average North American. The article is mainly about the high-risk lifestyles that some athletes get themselves into, but I wonder if it has anything to do with over-exertion too. Many athletes take supplements and work out like crazy to focus on conditioning their bodies for a specific activity. I wonder, does this conditioning help them live longer, more satisfying lives?

Of course, being too inactive is filled with problems too. I'd like to improve my fitness somewhat, but I'm satisfied with not being anywhere near the caliber of a pro athlete. Besides, I'm 27. It's pretty rare for anyone to get into pro sports at that age.

Disclaimer: Don't take health advice from an engineer, especially when most of it is based on anecdotal evidence, not scientific studies.

A song

There come times in every Blogger's life when we post song lyrics that we didn't write, and we give no explanation for why we picked that particular song. For me, this is one of those times.

I started thinkin' 'bout
The rest of my life
I found myself just looking out for
Trouble and strife
Someone with whom I'll spend
The rest of my days
But if I ever said I wasn't
Set in my ways
Then I guess you caught me
Lying to myself

What kind of fool
Doesn't think about it?
What kind of fool
Doesn't think about it?
You'd have to be a fool
Not to think about it

Am I gonna settle down
Am I gonna be
Someone who has to take
The rest of my life
To settle down?
Then I guess you caught me
Lying to myself

Who'll make a man out of me?

One thing I know about
The rest of my life
I know that I'll be
Living it in Canada
I know I said I'll share
The rest of my days
But I was only
Going through a phase

Am I gonna settle down
Am I gonna be
Someone who has to take
The rest of my life
To settle down?
Then I guess you caught me
Lying to myself

What kind of fool
Doesn't think about it?
What kind of fool
Doesn't think about it?
You'd have to be a fool
Not to think about it?

--Sloan

Pocket dialing

It's probably been a few years since I first heard of "pocket dialing"--phoning someone by accidentally pushing buttons on your phone while it's in your pocket or purse. The most frequent victims are people with names that start with A, like yours truly.

I got my first cell phone in May of 2005. I moved out on my own for the last time in September of 2007, which would have encouraged more people to put me (not just my family) in their list of contacts. Yet I don't think I was ever a victim of pocket dialing until this year. It's happened three times already and the year is still young. If I remember the first time right, a friend accidentally called me, realized it, and hung up. I saw his name on the Missed Calls list, so I called him back and he explained. The second time, it was the same guy, and I got to listen in on part of a conversation. Not an interesting conversation though. And today, my uncle accidentally called. I couldn't figure out who it was at first until he said my cousin's name. He probably still doesn't know he did that.

Why is this suddenly happening more than it was before? Did flip phones suddenly get less popular two months ago?

The fundie in all of us

My last post was about fundamentalism, and I'm going to continue that theme. I said then, "Even fundamentalists don't like fundamentalists; they just don't think they are fundamentalists." But that begs the question, am I a fundamentalist? I don't think I am, but I know people with more fundamentalist opinions than me who probably wouldn't consider themselves fundamentalist. And I definitely have some opinions that are more fundamentalist than some. I think there's a God who actually revealed himself to some humans. I think he even took on human form as Jesus. I believe in an afterlife and a God who judges and shows mercy. I avoid fornication and drunkenness. I'm not trying to appear holier-than-thou; I'm just saying some of these things wouldn't make sense to a lot of people. And I'll admit I question pretty much all of these things, because they don't always make sense to me either.

It would be more accurate to say that I don't like fundamentalism than to say I don't like fundamentalists, because I have friends who are more fundamentalist than I am. But are they truly fundamentalists? I know I don't define the line between fundamentalism and...um...not fundamentalism.

While most of us would consider fundamentalists to be quite conservative, can't some liberals be kind of fundamentalist too? For example, the people who oppose any public religious expression.

In what ways are you sort of fundamentalist?

Impotent fundamentalists

I found some interesting thoughts about fundamentalism for those of you that don't like fundamentalism. (And really, who does? Even fundamentalists don't like fundamentalists; they just don't think they are fundamentalists.) Here it is:

Fundamentalism isn't too violent; it isn't violent enough

Psychic postal workers

This week Canada Post seriously impressed me. I got some mail with my name on it. The first thing I noticed was that someone had circled the postal code, which was incorrect. (They usually do that when the sender gets it wrong.) I thought to myself, "I should tell the sender my real postal code." Then I saw that the address was wrong too, and that's when I really became impressed with our postal service.

But maybe it's not as impressive as it sounds. The only mistake in the address was replacing a "1" with a "7", and the address with the "7" doesn't exist. "7" does kind of look like "1". I'll have to tell the sender though.