Dear Bob Gunton...

Dear Bob Gunton…

As I’m sure you’ll agree, it was a pleasure to meet at the Atlanta International Airport a little over a week ago. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but as handsome as you appear on 24 and in the Shawshank Redemption, you were even more striking in real life. Once again, I apologize for so eagerly approaching you. As a blogger with tens of readers and a yeast biochemist with ones of individuals who are familiar with my research, believe me, I know what it is like to be harassed by the adoring masses.

Thank you for the sage advice to continue to “tune in to 24” for “another exciting season” and to “keep cheering for Ethan” (your character, the Chief of Staff to the President of the United States). Had our encounter not been so late at night, I’m sure we both would have had more interesting things to ask and say to each other.

Below is the picture we took in the airport. I figured you’d want it for your scrapbook or facebook page (which, oddly enough, I couldn’t find—please be sure to add me as a friend as soon as possible!).

I’ve told all my friends about our chance (nay, fated) encounter. I’m sure you have as well. Keep up the great work, and I’ll do the same.

Keep in touch,
Yajeev

P.S. I was so glad to see that you were completing sudoku puzzles on the plane. They say it really helps to keep the brain sharp.

Sliding Scale of Celebrity Doppelgangerness (or is it a slippery slope?)

It just might be the fact that I've lost about 35 pounds: I have noticed a shift in the celebrity comparisons I have received in recent months. In the past, I have been likened to esteemed filmmaker Michael Francis Moore (particularly when I donned baseball cap and flannel shirt). Lately, however, on multiple occasions, I have been made aware of a resemblance to another charming leading man: the Superbad Seth Rogen.

I consider this a move in a positive direction and an incentive to keep losing weight (I can't wait to see who's next on this spectrum of Hollywood lookalikes).


In related news, the wife took me to my favorite wing establishment (obliquely referenced here) for all-you-can-eat wings to celebrate my recent graduation. It is with mixed emotion that I report to you that I consumed only 7 Thai R Garlic wings, 5 Parmesan Pepper wings, 6 Arizona Ranch wings, 5 Cajun wings, and 1 Barbecue wing for a paltry grand total of (drum-roll please...) 24 chicken wings. Pathetic. At the height of my career, I once consumed 72 chicken wings on all-you-can-eat night (which pales in comparison to the 100+ wing my buddy Jordan had eaten that same night). This time, 24 was all I can eat--a three-fold reduction in wing capacity. For additional perspective, the wife only consumed 6 Louisiana Licker chicken wings and 5 onion rings (it's hard for me not to snicker as I type that).



Finally, for those who are so inclined, may I recommend to you the free eatings and drinkings at your local fast food establishments.

Today, May 15, 2008, Dunkin Donuts is offering free Iced Coffee from 10:00 am until 10:00 pm. No strings attached. However, just try to walk out without buying a donut. Or two.

Also, today, McDonald's is promoting its new Southern-style chicken sandwich. It can be yours for free... as long as you purchase a medium or large beverage.

This collective free goodness has earned the fast food industry as a collective unit an Honorable Mention in the ongoing Land of Yajeev Best Free Stuff competition.

We Shall Overcome

It is time that someone broke the silence. I have lived with my condition in shame for far too long, as have, I fear, countless others.

“Give it to me straight, doc.” That was me, trying to be tough.

“I don’t want to alarm you…” These words, these terrible words, “I don’t want to alarm you,” have never, in the history of humanity, been followed by anything other than the most alarming of news. “… but you have it.”

“Are you sure?”

“The symptoms you describe, the observations I’ve made… they point definitively to this diagnosis.”

“Could it be anything else?”

“I’m afraid that would be… highly unlikely.”

Plantar fasciitis.

Painful soles. Flat feet. I’ve got it. For a few days, I did nothing but wallow in self-pity. I didn’t shower. I didn’t shave. I didn’t say much. (I did, of course, eat like normal, if not a little extra in the time I would otherwise have spent showering, shaving, and talking). I feared that what I had come to expect from a normal life would be stolen from me, as my condition declined until I was no longer able to walk without searing, shooting pain.

And then came the epiphany. Here I am, a person of above average celebrity, with this instrument, this portal to the masses. Maybe I have been given this affliction, this thorn in my flesh for a reason.

Yes, I do have plantar fasciitis. And since I have it, I’m going to make the most of whatever time I have left with it. I’ve decided to use the notoriety I’ve achieved with this blog to be a voice in the wilderness, telling the world that you can have plantar fasciitis and lead a relatively normal life. Through this blog and (for-pay) speaking engagements, I will raise awareness of this silent epidemic.

Listen. If you suffer with the symptoms of plantar fasciitis, you need to get tested. If you experience pain while walking, pain while running, pain while sitting, you need to get help. There is no need for you to live with this debilitating condition without professional podiatric assistance. Anonymous podiatrists in anonymous podiatric clinics are available to give help and advice. While a complete cure is not yet commercially available (and may still be years or even decades away—biomedical researchers won’t even touch it until they’ve got the trendier AIDS, cancer, and diabetes figured out), there are treatment options that can help you maintain an acceptable quality of life. Rigid shoe inserts, high-power painkillers administered orally or by injection, electrostimulation, painful foot stretches are all available to make life more livable.

Think not only of yourself. Think of your loved ones, those tireless caregivers who have sacrificed years of their lives, carrying things (like television remotes or video game controllers) to you because you were too pained to walk to get them yourself. They have walked by your side, supported your weight on long walks from the front door to the car in the driveway, listened to your yelps of discomfort. If you don’t get help for your own sake, do it for them.

Look. You are not alone. Plenty of high-profile celebrities suffer with plantar fasciitis. Professional basketball greats Tim Duncan, Larry Hughes, and Kobe Bryant. Jason Giambi of New York Yankee steroid controversy fame. Your humble narrator. Noted stage and screen actor Gary Grubbs (http://www.tv.com/gary-grubbs/person/1220/summary.html). Plantar fasciitis is not a death sentence. Alone, we may limp, but together, fellow sufferers, we will walk proudly.