blast from the plast

We are fortunate to have a radio station out here that plays all the hits of my high school era. Hearing Trevor McNevan's voice for the nth time on Ignite107 (local Christian station), I was compelled to switch to said station (if you are wondering: here) and I was greeted by the coelacanth, Econoline Crush. It is appropriate to note that the 90's wizardry which begate such hits as "All That You Are" (albeit the Boomtang remix) was also around the time that I was in the minor car accident of which I am now reaping the rewards.

Today I received a surprisingly potent volleyball serve from a shnerps of a kid. Pow, the ricochet of pain spiking up my arm brought back the recent comment from my chiropractor, "...and you ARE reaching the magical age (of 30)." Magical? I wondered. Magical like a how a Ringwraith sucks your life-soul out of you magical? Hmm. This is something that needs some pondering.

I played hackysack with a couple of kids today as well. Apparently they remembered some off-the-cuff remark I had made about my past hackysacking days in high school(if only they would remember my course content just as well). Praise the Lord it was like riding a bike. I didn't look like a fool and we actually had a fun time kicking around during one of the morning breaks. They came to the staffroom at lunch begging for more kicks. But Crotchity Mr. P reared his head and told them to scram (my Chinese take-out leftovers were losing their warmth). They will be back, eventually (they incidentally lost the sack up on some obscure rafter in the gym). It's nice to build report.

Today was a good day.