From earlier this fall - Bo meets a new friend...who is bigger, stronger, and faster. Domination ensues:
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Photos of the Year
2010 was a tumultuous, action-packed year, and here is some great photography that sums it up.
My personal favorite. (On a related note, a multitude of sources point to Jim Harbaugh being named head football coach at U of M after the first of the year. But at this point that's still a rumor...)
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Merry Christmas from the Young's
2010: A Retrospective
2010 was going to be the “BEST YEAR EVER”, according to the reputable magazines I usually scan as I wait in the check-out line at the grocery store. Oh, who am I kidding, I don’t buy groceries. Take-out baby! That’s why God invented cell phones. And Chinese food. And Discount Burger Wednesday at O’Brien’s, but I digress…
2010 was a good year, if not quite the advertised “best ever”. That title belongs to 2004, the year I graduated high school, started college, and discovered the wondrous game of beer pong. But Mom, it was just apple juice we were playing with, I promise! (Unless apple juice is now sold in aluminum cans marked “Natural Light”, it wasn’t apple juice.) But behold the wonders of naiveté, where sometimes it’s better to cover your eyes and plug your ears and pretend your college freshmen child is in the library on a Friday night. (That was Mackenzie.)
There’s much in this world we overlook, both by accident and by will. Maybe it’s the news we read, or watch, or listen to, that gives us only half of the story, and expects us to be too busy or too tired to care about the rest. Or it’s the stories that go unreported, that pop up on our smartphone or iPad and then get lost in the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives. There’s no better time than Christmas to pause and reflect upon the gifts we’ve been given, the comfort we enjoy, and the community to which we belong.
And now, haikus about the Young family!
Jon: Just got his car back
Enjoys his job at B-Y
Still has the goatee
Bo: A bundle of joy
Furry and cute to play with
Likes to eat feces
Mackenzie: Junior at U-M
Just turned 21 years old
Not a fan of Glee
Cameron: Working at Steelcase
Can see, big thanks to LASIK
Pumped for 2011
Mom&Dad: Not quite empty nest
Growing older gracefully
Pretty cool I guess
May 2011 bring you joy and happiness (and Michigan victories! C’mon, I had to put one plug in!)
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
As 2010 Draws To A Close...
One of the annual pleasures of the approaching of a new year, besides, you know, Christmas and everything, is the multitude of 'Year in Review'-type articles and compilations. I love these because they remind you of things you may have forgotten throughout the year - and they're just so dang entertaining.
Here's one of the great viral videos of 2010 - heartwarming premise + goofy dancing little kid = Youtube sensation.
Here's one of the great viral videos of 2010 - heartwarming premise + goofy dancing little kid = Youtube sensation.
MetroDome Roof Collapses
We've gotten quite a bit of snow through Grand Rapids this weekend, but it was nowhere near the blizzard that ran through Minneapolis-St. Paul. Check out this crazy video....
The game scheduled to play there today obviously was cancelled; the Vikings v. Giants game will instead be played in Detroit tomorrow night. Not much of a homefield advantage.
The game scheduled to play there today obviously was cancelled; the Vikings v. Giants game will instead be played in Detroit tomorrow night. Not much of a homefield advantage.
Monday, December 6, 2010
My LASIK Experience
"Just keep staring at that blinking light." That blinking light is a LASER beam and when it's turned on will surely fry my brain. "Ok, we'll need 22 seconds of correction on the left eye." Oh dear God, don't flinch. Do. Not. Move. "Ok, we're all set. Looks perfect in there. Looks really good."
This was the dialogue between my reassuring ophthalmologist and my panicking brain Thursday around 1pm during my LASIK surgery. You go into it prepared for either the best or the worst: thinking maybe he'll magically snap his fingers and you'll be seeing 20/20, or the opposite, you'll walk into a room and there he'll be sitting, in front of a tray of various sized scalpels and clamps. Both of these are true. It is quick and pain-free (as of my follow-up the next day, I was already seeing 20/15 - must have something to do with my preternaturally smooth corneas), but the 20-odd minutes I was lying on my back, getting a flap cut in my cornea and then pulled back, getting the air bubbles brushed away from said cornea, clamping each eye open in preparation of the laser, holding statue-still while the laser was on - those 20 minutes were amongst the most terrifyingly bizarre of my life.
LASIK stands for laser-assisted in situ keratomileusis and in the simplest terms, involves using a laser to cut a flap of corneal tissue, folding the flap open and using a second laser to reshape the cornea, then repositioning the flap over the cornea so it can readhere and heal itself naturally. Step 3 in this process was a joy, and a giant relief to have my vision back, albeit blurry and disorienting. Step 1 was okay too; I didn't even realize this laser was working until it was done, and the flap opened up, making my vision extremely blurry. The suction cup applied to my eye during this stage was a nice touch too, and left behind a little gift as well, in the form of huge red marks on the whites of my eyes. Apparently these burst blood vessels fade in a few weeks.
Status check: Step 1 complete, corneal flap cut and middle of cornea exposed, causing blurred vision and mild freakout, quickly quelled by the knowledge that any movement will make this situation much worse. And, due to a proliferation of numbing drops, I can't actually feel any of this. Which somehow makes it worse.
They say that sensory deprivation can be a very effective form of torture (and by they I obviously mean George W. Bush) and I, for one, will tell you that they are absolutely right. To most accurately depict this harrowing 7 or 8 minute stretch, I better liveblog it:
Thursday, 12/2/10, 1:19pm: After the first laser is done, I'm feeling pretty good. Geez, that was easy. Didn't even feel it. Minus the weird, blood vessel-popping suction cups on the eyes, piece of cake.
1:20pm: So the flaps were just flipped open. I feel like I'm wearing the glasses that simulate drunkenness in driver's ed class. I would wager, out of all the senses, sight is my favorite, followed closely by taste. I'm less than thrilled by this blurriness.
1:22pm: The table shifted from under one big laser machine to under another big laser machine. Doc says I have some air bubbles on my eye, and uses a small brush-like device to wipe them off. To say this was weird would be an understatement. I could see it happening, but it seemed like from a distance, and obviously I couldn't feel it. At this point I began to wonder what the hell I was doing.
1:24pm: Turns out my right needed 16 seconds of correction by the laser and my slightly worse left eye needed 22 seconds. After taping each lid open, and placing a clamp on the lid as well, apparently as a safeguard to prevent frying of the eyelid, Doc told me to look directly at a blinking orange light, and I did as I was told. In normal situations, in which the specter of pain makes an appearance, my default reaction is to shut my eyes tight, raise my shoulders, and pray. In this situation, it was physically impossible to do the first two, so I relied on prayer and some clinched teeth.
1:25pm: After what felt like an afternoon at Abu Ghraib, the procedure was over, and the corneal flap was folded back over. Both eyes felt scratchy and dry, and pretty blurry, but on doctor's orders, there was to be no rubbing of the eyes for at least a week, lest I risk disrupting the healing of the flap.
Well, I survived and am now the only non-nerdy glasses wearer in my family. Money well spent, and despite the uneasiness described above, I'm glad I did it. Now, if only they had LASIK surgery for spinal cords...
This was the dialogue between my reassuring ophthalmologist and my panicking brain Thursday around 1pm during my LASIK surgery. You go into it prepared for either the best or the worst: thinking maybe he'll magically snap his fingers and you'll be seeing 20/20, or the opposite, you'll walk into a room and there he'll be sitting, in front of a tray of various sized scalpels and clamps. Both of these are true. It is quick and pain-free (as of my follow-up the next day, I was already seeing 20/15 - must have something to do with my preternaturally smooth corneas), but the 20-odd minutes I was lying on my back, getting a flap cut in my cornea and then pulled back, getting the air bubbles brushed away from said cornea, clamping each eye open in preparation of the laser, holding statue-still while the laser was on - those 20 minutes were amongst the most terrifyingly bizarre of my life.
LASIK stands for laser-assisted in situ keratomileusis and in the simplest terms, involves using a laser to cut a flap of corneal tissue, folding the flap open and using a second laser to reshape the cornea, then repositioning the flap over the cornea so it can readhere and heal itself naturally. Step 3 in this process was a joy, and a giant relief to have my vision back, albeit blurry and disorienting. Step 1 was okay too; I didn't even realize this laser was working until it was done, and the flap opened up, making my vision extremely blurry. The suction cup applied to my eye during this stage was a nice touch too, and left behind a little gift as well, in the form of huge red marks on the whites of my eyes. Apparently these burst blood vessels fade in a few weeks.
Status check: Step 1 complete, corneal flap cut and middle of cornea exposed, causing blurred vision and mild freakout, quickly quelled by the knowledge that any movement will make this situation much worse. And, due to a proliferation of numbing drops, I can't actually feel any of this. Which somehow makes it worse.
They say that sensory deprivation can be a very effective form of torture (and by they I obviously mean George W. Bush) and I, for one, will tell you that they are absolutely right. To most accurately depict this harrowing 7 or 8 minute stretch, I better liveblog it:
Thursday, 12/2/10, 1:19pm: After the first laser is done, I'm feeling pretty good. Geez, that was easy. Didn't even feel it. Minus the weird, blood vessel-popping suction cups on the eyes, piece of cake.
1:20pm: So the flaps were just flipped open. I feel like I'm wearing the glasses that simulate drunkenness in driver's ed class. I would wager, out of all the senses, sight is my favorite, followed closely by taste. I'm less than thrilled by this blurriness.
1:22pm: The table shifted from under one big laser machine to under another big laser machine. Doc says I have some air bubbles on my eye, and uses a small brush-like device to wipe them off. To say this was weird would be an understatement. I could see it happening, but it seemed like from a distance, and obviously I couldn't feel it. At this point I began to wonder what the hell I was doing.
1:24pm: Turns out my right needed 16 seconds of correction by the laser and my slightly worse left eye needed 22 seconds. After taping each lid open, and placing a clamp on the lid as well, apparently as a safeguard to prevent frying of the eyelid, Doc told me to look directly at a blinking orange light, and I did as I was told. In normal situations, in which the specter of pain makes an appearance, my default reaction is to shut my eyes tight, raise my shoulders, and pray. In this situation, it was physically impossible to do the first two, so I relied on prayer and some clinched teeth.
1:25pm: After what felt like an afternoon at Abu Ghraib, the procedure was over, and the corneal flap was folded back over. Both eyes felt scratchy and dry, and pretty blurry, but on doctor's orders, there was to be no rubbing of the eyes for at least a week, lest I risk disrupting the healing of the flap.
Well, I survived and am now the only non-nerdy glasses wearer in my family. Money well spent, and despite the uneasiness described above, I'm glad I did it. Now, if only they had LASIK surgery for spinal cords...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
LASIK Tomorrow!
Gonna get the 'ol eyeballs worked on. Slightly nervewracking, what with the whole laser/eyeball in close proximity thing, but nothing a little Valium can't handle. Luckily it only takes around 30 seconds per eye, so it will be quick. And apparently I have very smooth corneas, making mine an easy correction to make. So I've got that going for me....which is nice. I look forward to a glasses-free world, at least until I'm old and need reading glasses, like most old people I know. Wish me luck!
A Montana thunderstorm at sunset.
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