visuals . . . april

Me and yo momma at the Birmingham Museum of Art.

{4/ 18/ 12}  After 3 months, physical therapy finally got the best of me.  This is a thumbs-up a la getting carted off the field of play except I was really just lying on the exercise mat.  It took me about 45 minutes to recover from a case of "oh crap, this could be bad."  At last, I managed to make it out of the building with my wife steadying me and my walker, my therapist holding my belt as a precaution against losing my balance while inadvertently giving me a high-grade wedgie, and the receptionist bringing up the rear with a rolling-swivel chair in the event of a backward collapse.  It was a team effort.  An awkward, kind of humorous team effort. 

{4/ 12/ 12}  Cutting grass at my dad's house.  This is the list-to-port, upper-body-compensation, it-just-looks-like-I'm-out-of-my-depth technique.

{4/ 12/ 12}  This is called the right-knee-locked, right-leg-pole-vault, left-leg-hip-and-knee-flexion, curve-curbing technique.

I'm saving up to get this wheelchair because Zombies don't care if you're handicapped or not.

{4/ 2/ 12}  If you visit me during chemo week, you have an eighty-four percent chance of discovering me thusly pathetic. 

{4/2/12 }Here I am affecting my best pout.  Between the face-on view and my thick beard, it looks less like I'm pouting than it looks like I'm dreaming of slimy anchovies.