9.58s

To put it in perspective, 100 meters in 9.58 seconds is like running an average speed of about 24 miles per hour. However, Bolt was accelerating for the first 20-30 meters, so its likely that his top end speed reached 30 miles per hour. Let me remind you, this man has two legs. Unglaublich.

A wise person is like a jazz musician, using the notes, but dancing around them

Pretty brilliant points of interest (from Barry Schwartz's lecture):
1. A wise person knows how to make every exception to every rule
2. A wise person knows when and how to improvise
3. A wise person knows how to use these moral skills in the pursuit of the right aims
4. A wise person is made, not born (wisdom requires experience)
5. You don't need brilliance to be wise
6. Without wisdom, brilliance is simply not enough and is as likely to get you into trouble as anything else
7. Rules and procedures may be dumb, but they spare you from thinking
8. Neither rules nor incentives can substitute for trust in moral wisdom
9. Moral wisdom is composed of both moral will and moral skill
10. Moral skill is chipped away by an over-reliance on rules
11. Moral will is undermined by an incessant desire to adhere to rules
12. Rules or scripts and infallible adherence to them are "insurance policies" to prevent disaster. Even though they may insure against disaster, the stunt creativity and ensure mediocrity.
13. Rules are necessary, but too many rules erode moral skill and will.

LE "VIRTUAL" TOUR!

Okay, so its our desire ('our' is of course synonymous with Megs and myself) to someday go to LE TOUR! No, not quite what you're thinking (blushing unstoppably). I mean, it is certainly flattering that you would consider us that fit (gold and spoils to you and your family!), but you'd be remiss to find we're no where close to that kind of shape (shame on you for believing!). So, because ice cream plays such a critical role in our well-being, we won't ever be racing in France (unless its on some sort of reality TV show). BUT, we do hope that someday we'll be watching this race LIVE, from its pebbled shoulders and mountainous overlooks. Since dreaming should not just be a phenomenon of REM sleep, I embed for you LE "VIRTUAL" TOUR DE FRANCE!

ASCHENHALLE!

HOLY CLUTCH

Apologies for the two-month hiatus! (I guess I'll blame the fabulous engagement news for jarring me out of blog rhythm! Plus, when your fiance equates your blog with weak sauce, it gets personal.)

My first post since March has to appropriately feature the King himself. Just watch in awe.

GETTIN' HITCHED!!!!

Got engaged in Cesky Krumlov (Czech Republic) this past weekend! Stay tuned for more soon!!!

Take away

Usually, nothing good comes out of having your car towed (especially if you were supposed to have already learned your lesson - car towed twice in two months). But, I am a half-glass full type of guy. So, here is what happened. I was working late at the university (as usual) and came home around 3:30 AM. Home is NE Minneapolis. So, I pull up onto the even side of the street and, probably a tad tired, didn't notice any one-sided street parking (as is often the case in a snow emergency). Like a clueless idiot, I just meandered into my apartment. With aspirations to wake up super-early, I cooked lunch for the next day (or later that day) and fell asleep on the couch. I woke up four hours later, only to yet again not think about the plows that were probably sweeping the street that was out front. I started studying for the day's exam and decided I was going to take it easy until the time of the test. Three hours later, it was around noon and about time to head out. My statistics exam was to be taken on the St. Paul campus at 12:50, so I had better leave earlier than usual. I was thinking, .."boy, it'll be nice, I'll leave around 12:10, get there around 12:30 and have like 15-20 minutes to settle in, organize my thoughts and channel some energy! I have it all planned out!" So, I actually ended up stepping out of the apartment around 12:15 only to notice a light bulb was about to blind-side me: "OMG! (I thought) I'll bet a catholic school full of nuns that my car has been towed!" So, I cringed and ran out to the street. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!", I screamed. Then, I shrilled in anxiety. "Ah, man, my test!" So, I panicked. I started calling person after person, friend after friend, I even thought about calling Megs for a second (which would be reeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaallly helpful, yeah), but no one was answering. Except for one person, that is. My mom. I had remembered that she was planning to come to Minneapolis for a doctor's appointment for around 1 PM, so I told her, "say, ma', is there any chance that you could come pick me up now?". She tells me, "sure, but why?". I explain to her the situation and she panics, you know, like mothers panic when their child does something terribly stupid. She ends up leaving her work (which is in St. Paul, mind you) to come pick me up in Minneapolis to then take me to St. Paul again (whew!). At that point, I start walking. Not sure exactly where I was going, but I thought I should try to go somewhere. 12:24: I call my mom back. "Mom, just wondering where you are?". She replies, "Just leaving St. Paul, will be there in like 15, maybe?" I feel a little, itty-bitty lump in my throat and mom can sense it. She says, "But, you're okay, right? You said your test is at 1:50?". My jaw drops just a tad and I remind my mom of the dire straits I have found myself in. "12:50, mom. My test is in 25 minutes!" I almost jumped in front of a moving car. Not because I wanted to kill myself (come on, it's only a test), but because I had dazed off, walked across the street during a red light. I keep walking and I make it to the British Petroleum (BP) on the corner of University Ave. and 10th St. I call my mom, she is not answering. "Great", I'm thinking. She probably stopped to ask for directions. Okay, just kidding, I didn't actually think she stopped for directions (I mean, this was no road trip). She calls me, I swing around, there she is. I jump into the car and the first thing my mom says is, "That's all you're wearing, where is your coat?!" She was referring to my me only wearing my favorite patagonia long-sleeves, but I countered, "hey, look at this (pointed to neck), see...I am wearing a scarf, so all that cold is is being warmed up all the way down to my lungs, mother." Like that was the most important thing in the world right now. C'mon, it was 12:42, we were in Minneapolis and my test was in 8 minutes on the other campus! We drove, my mom was a maniac. Nonetheless, it seemed like torture. Every possible traffic light turned red, every slow driver seemed not to be turning off the road we were on. 12:56: We made it. I walked into the room, everyone looked up (yes, everyone). The professor, sitting in the front, held out my test as if he were passing me a lunch tray. I take it from him and lean in, "Uh, so, I had car troubles this morning." Sort of like the being-late-to-your-test equivalent to 'my dog ate my homework'. I walked to the next available seat, slowly. A few of my fellow students peeked up, I took my time. Started reading the instructions to the exam while un-wrapping my scarf, then finally sat down with around 40 minutes remaining. To be continued...