Ultimately, the Question is: Is it Time to Retire?

So the grand Ultimate experiment was something of a failure - about halfway through practice last night, my foot flared up. Bah. Lisa (my friend the PA) thinks it's plantar fasciitis, which is just awesome. So the last summer of Boston Ultimate may not be. It might not even be a summer of Boston, given my propensity for staying home - and rightly so. Last night I left at 4:30 and got to practice at 6:30. That's just dumb. That's beyond even Austin standards - the Julietta and I used to drive from SA to Austin, about 1:15, and that was stupid, but that was pretty much the only Ultimate option we had those days. We were young, dedicated, and stupid. And it was also an awesome league. Those were good times. These - not so much. The injuries and travel time, gas prices and etc. are far outweighing the benefits. On the plus side, my knee felt more or less okay, and my shoulder held up - I actually put up a ridiculous number of hucks, forehands, backhands, hammers, you name it. Most of them to my friend Zach. I must be a foreigner, 'cause I gots tunnel vision. Or... wait. No.

So the past two days I've been ripping the acoustic guitar up, learning some Beatles songs. I will adjust the songlist accordingly. There. It's now adjusted. Enjoy. Relatively straightforward songs, though I did spend a large amount of time trying to nail the intro to "I've Just Seen a Face," which if you're not familiar is a fairly quick triplet set. It's also played on two guitars, and try as I might, I can't grow two additional arms. There is really no hope for me, I suppose. All in all, hard work, my hands are cramping, my left thumb is actually kind of sore from gripping on barre chords and at quick glance, my left index finger looks mammothly more muscular than my right. Either that or I have very localized gout. Goodness.

Should be a light weekend of work, but Beck is headed down to Tejas (the friendship state) on Sunday, so I'm staring down another week alone. Hey, it's like being in high school all over again! Maybe I'll call up Marisa Silvas and have her read me YM over the phone. Ah, many a Friday night met that fate, my friends. Those were the days. These, again, are not those days.

For an outro quick pick me up, here are some pics of the pups of eternal optimist and brilliant mind Liz Bishop: