Great Expectations

Wow! It's been quite a few weeks since my last blog post, and what better time than during a cold, wet November day in East Texas?

Actually, I was going to post much sooner, but one thing has stopped me -- anticipation.

For starters, it's been six months since I left the Texas A&M Health Science Center. While I've appreciated the break and rest, I'm ready to go back into the "game" of communications and public relations. I've submitted numerous job applications. I've completed job interviews -- some of which I'm still waiting on a potential follow-up. I've been anticipating an announcement, so I haven't posted.

Next week -- the first week of December -- my wife and I are off to Las Vegas for the week to celebrate her parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We've made most of the plans but left room in our schedule for free time. I've anticipated this trip for months, but we haven't touched down in "Sin City," so I haven't posted.

Thanksgiving and the holiday season are just around the corner. I'm anticipating the time with family and friends, along with food and fun. But that's still a few weeks off.

Then, in a few weeks, those activities will be memories, and there will be new things for me to anticipate.

It's part of life. So often we are anxious and impatient, hoping time would hurry so our opportunity or event will come. As Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers sang, "The Waiting" is the hardest part.

It's at these times that I must remember to enjoy the journey. "Looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them," wrote Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery, and she's right. While it's our nature to look ahead, we can't be so consumed with the future that we fail to appreciate the ride in the present.

So, instead of waiting to blog about something still to come, I'm posting now. And hey -- maybe you'll be anticipating what I write about next!

Til the next time...

A matter of seconds...

Have you got a sec?

Most people don't. Time is a precious commodity -- perhaps the most precious -- and suffice to say, I've enjoyed stepping out of the "rat race" for a little while and watching the world go on around me.

But sometimes, I like to get back in the world, such as part of the upcoming Austin Beer Week: the Jester King Funk n' Sour Fest. Jester King announced the Oct. 27 event and ticket sale on its website and Facebook page, with sales starting promptly at noon Central Daylight Time on Oct. 7.

My wife and I decided we'd like to get one regular ticket and one VIP ticket that includes some limited quantity bottled beers -- Nocturn Chrysalis and Aurelian Lure. So, with 600 regular tickets and 400 VIP tickets, that shouldn't be a problem, right?

12 o'clock arrived. Erica asked, "Should I get the tickets now?" I replied, "No. We'll wait a couple more minutes. We're not in that big of a rush."

I was wrong. When she signed in at 12:05, all 400 VIP tickets were gone and just a couple hundred regular tickets remained. As I kept hitting the "refresh" button, that number was dwindling rapidly. We did get two regular tickets, and the entire event sold out by mid-afternoon. Even Jester King was shocked at the response, saying such demand was not expected and would be the last time for an Internet "free for all."

Nonetheless, we're looking forward to the fest (as part of our late anniversary gift to each other) and hope to sample the Nocturn Chrysalis and Aurelian Lure, which should be available in bottles in the future.

Jester King Brewery in Austin, Texas

Corresponding with the Jester King staff, I told them the ticket run was similar to an iPhone release, which we've also experienced firsthand. I skipped the initial iPhone launch in June 2007 but went after the iPhone 3G a year later. The phones were not available for advance purchase online, so Erica and I decided to stand in line at our local AT&T store early release morning.

Thankfully, Bryan-College Station is not a major metro area, so the only things we really had to compete with were students, the Sandman, and only one launch store (there's no Apple Store here, and major retailers like Wal-Mart and Target did not carry the early models). The store opened at 8 a.m., and we arrived a full two hours early. I'm glad we did, as there already was a line of about 10 people, and as the sun came up, the line grew significantly.

Unfortunately, when you're in a small town, the number of allocated iPhone units is small, so by the time the sales staff got to us, there were only a handful left. You can imagine the groans and expletives from those in line a few short minutes later when the phones sold out. This time, we lucked out, and the release was still a big enough deal that the local TV station came out to get people's comments for an afternoon news segment.

Since then, we've purchased new iPhones online. I like to be one of the first to get the latest model (as long as it's a whole number, so no "5S" or "5C" for me), so that means going online or on my mobile app at 2 a.m. to buy for expedited shipping instead of waiting til mid-afternoon when shipment times already are pushed back days, if not weeks.

Anyone remember the iPhone 3G?

It's the adrenaline rush of the chase. It's the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat.

That rush also came in getting tickets for the 2011 Great American Beer Festival in Denver. Erica and I knew tickets sold out within minutes, and we wanted to attend TWO sessions! Thank God for high-speed Internet and a full pot of coffee that allowed us to secure tickets at the exact time they became available. Otherwise, it would have been craigslist, a "tickets wanted" beer forum or a disappointing missed opportunity.

But there was little high-speed Internet available as Erica and I planned our one-year anniversary in mid-September 2001 -- a Miami Dolphins home game (my first), followed by a seven-day Bahamas cruise. Then the unthinkable happened: 9/11.

As we watched the tragedy unfold before our eyes, I immediately knew alternate arrangements would need to be made.

I contacted Royal Caribbean, which said the cruise was still on. Check. I then received an NFL alert that the games for that following week would be postponed but games the week after would go on. Miami was at home that week, too, so I contacted the ticket office and was able to switch games. Check. Hotel. Check.

That left airfare, and with all planes grounded, I knew it'd be a mess for some time. I also knew while I had all the other parts of the trip handled, I needed to get the airfare switched or it would be all for not. I called Continental Airlines and got through without a busy signal. Five minutes later, we were processed and ready to go. Once we began to understand the magnitude of the attacks, I called the airlines again in mid-afternoon. The hold time was 3.5 hours, making me extremely glad I took a few seconds to call at the very beginning.

Of course, all of these events -- beer festivals, iPhone purchases, an anniversary trip -- are trivial and not a matter of life and death where every second really counts. I think my wife will second that. Get it? "Second." Ha!

Til the next time...

30...13...3

No, those aren't my favorite numbers, nor is it the start of a special sequence for you to guess what's next.

Those numbers are special to me for different reasons. Two of them change annually and are especially appropriate today - September 23.

• 30 -- The years since my birth mom passed away from multiple sclerosis (Sept. 23, 1983).
• 13 -- The years I've been married to Erica Rodriguez of Harlingen, Texas (Sept. 23, 2000).
• 3 -- The number of extraordinary women in my life. My birth mom, my wife, and my stepmom -- Gloria.

Though it's been 30 years, I remember the day as if it were yesterday. I came home from sixth grade, and our housekeeper greeted me at the door. "Your Dad has something he wants to tell you," she said. At that moment, even though I was just 11, I knew -- I knew she was gone, and I knew she was in a better place.

Eleanor Joanne Knepshield had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis while carrying me. She even went temporarily blind during the pregnancy, which was very difficult. In fact, I came out so blue the doctors didn't know if I was alive and if so, for how long. Shortly afterward, she was confined to a wheelchair. Mom continued to decline, eventually having to be cared for 24/7 by my dad (cleaning, feeding, transporting) before going to a nursing home.

Joanne

But while mom's body was failing her, her mind was not. She was a brilliant, complex woman who did all she could for her son while she had the time. Though it was happening right before me, it was difficult -- if not impossible -- for me to understand what she was going through and the frustration and pain she was enduring. I knew it was bad, though, and I wanted it to be over.

So, when Dad delivered the news on Sept. 23, 1983, I was actually happy. I knew Mom was in a better place -- no more pain, no more suffering -- and I would someday see her again for all eternity as what she was -- a perfect woman. I also knew it was a relief for Dad as caregiver and that after a time of mourning, we could go on with our lives. In fact, to this day, I have not cried about her passing, as I know she is looking down on me -- smiling -- every day.

Fortunately for Dad and I, God brought another special woman into our lives - Gloria M. Lemasters. He remarried a little more than a year after Mom passed, and now I had a stepmom. I never call her that, though. There is no "step" - just "Mom."

Yes, this Mom was a little hard on me, but I needed it. Obviously, my birth mom was unable to really raise me, and Dad -- through no fault of his own -- was preoccupied with caring for her. So, I spent my early years as a wild child. Lots of sweets and lots of calories. No curfew. A severe asthmatic who sometimes went through an entire inhaler in a day. Yellow, almost jaundiced, skin. Too skinny and too short.

Gloria

Having raised three great adult children of her own, Gloria changed all that immediately. We moved to another school district out of the suburbs where the fresh "country air" could fill my lungs. Gone were the sweets. Gone was the inhaler as a "pacifier" (take deep breaths and focus on blowing out a candle instead). When I told her I wanted to try out for the high school basketball team, most would have laughed. She encouraged me.

The entire time, even today, she considers herself an extension of my birth mom. I couldn't agree more, and while we've had our disagreements as Mom and Son, I give her (and my Dad) complete credit for making me the man I am today.

Surprisingly, with that kind of upbringing, this man was not a ladies' man (Ha!). It may have been my mannerisms, my cursing, my introverted personality, or several other things. But here I was at 27 without a girlfriend, much less a spouse.

All that changed in August 1999 when I met Erica Rodriguez. I had been at the McAllen Monitor newspaper for a couple years, most recently on the copy desk. Erica had just joined the paper in the same department after graduating from The University of Texas at San Antonio. Born and raised in Harlingen, she felt a calling from God after UTSA to return to the Rio Grande Valley. I'm glad she answered!

Immediately, I was struck by her good looks, her patience and kindness towards others, and her faith in God (did I tell you she was hot?). I was a Catholic but had explored joining a different denomination, as the faith just wasn't there for me. She was a born-again Christian, and her spirit influenced me (indeed, I became born-again myself before we married).

Erica

After finally getting the courage to ask her out for "vittles" during our work breaks, we went on a first date. And how romantic - I took her to Rio Grande City where I was covering a game for the paper in the press box. The local radio station put me on at halftime for commentary, and I thought with my influence, good looks (cough, cough) and new Ford Mustang with custom wheels and stereo system that I had her in the bag. I even took her to Whataburger for dinner!

However, when I dropped her off at home, I forgot one important thing -- walking her to the door. Yikes! That almost killed it, but her Mom (another strong influence on my life) said to give mijo another chance. A long story short, she did, and three months later we were engaged.

In making the initial wedding preparations, we had an idea of the location (South Padre Island) but not the date. We obviously needed a few months to plan. Then, it hit me as if it were from my birth mom above looking down -- Sept. 23. Erica wholeheartedly agreed, and the day has not just become one of remembrance but also of celebration. In fact, we wear my birth parents' wedding bands as a daily reminder.

Now, it's 13 years today since our wedding (easy to remember our anniversary), and like Eleanor and Gloria, I love Erica more every day. She puts up with me more than any wife should and isn't afraid to wear the pants in the family at times. She handles the finances, plans the trips and pretty much anything in between. There's nothing she can't do, and I know she'll be a great mother herself someday (no, this isn't a "We're Having a Baby!" announcement).

So there's the meaning behind my special numbers. And for those reading -- and not reading -- this blog, count your blessings for each special woman in your life. I have three.

Til the next time...

What's in a Name?

Monday Night Football kicks off its 44th season tonight (Sept. 9), with the Philadelphia Eagles at the Washington Redskins as the opening act. Don’t be surprised if you hear the fight song “Hail to the Redskins” a few times during the game.

But as they prepare to hit the field, the controversy surrounding team names and mascots such as “Redskins” has again resurfaced. In fact, renowned Sports Illustrated senior writer Peter King said recently he would not use "Redskins," while media such as AP and New York Times do not plan to change.

Various universities have addressed the issue, such as the St. John’s “Redmen” changing to “Red Storm,” and the University of Illinois retiring its mascot “Chief Illiniwek.” Professional sports – not so much.

Obviously, this controversy is not new. In fact, below is a column I wrote for my college newspaper back in 1992. I even alluded to possibilities 20 years from that time, our present day.

Take from it what you will. Til the next time…

February 27, 1992

Angelo State University Ram Page

Guest editorial: Racism not strictly black-and-white issue

“Don’t tell me that you agree with me, when I saw you kicking dirt in my eyes…If you’re gonna be my brother, it don’t matter if you’re black or white.”

-- From “Black or White” by Michael Jackson

           

            Several weeks ago, Americans observed a holiday in honor of civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. That is, everyone except Arizona.

            Arizona does not view Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday as a federal holiday. It did in 1986, when former Gov. Bruce Babbitt enacted legislation making King’s birthday a holiday. One year later, however, then-Gov. Evan Mecham rescinded the King holiday for “budgetary reasons.” Past-Gov. Rose Mofford fought hard to revive the holiday for King, but when voters turned it down in 1991, it became extinct.

            Beyond the federal government, states should have the right to conduct business as they think necessary. Yet, state governments find themselves pleasing no one. They hope strong public relations and a mound of paperwork will convince people what they are doing is right.

            While blacks are discriminated in Arizona, Native Americans are discriminated in professional sports. The use of nicknames such as Indians, Chiefs, Braves and Redskins by professional organizations has long been resented by Native Americans, who feel such terms are offensive. Even Webster’s Dictionary defines “Redskin” as an offensive word.

            In last year’s World Series, Clyde Bellecourt, founder of the American Indian Movement, led a group of protestors demanding the Atlanta Braves change their nickname. A few weeks ago, Bellecourt again joined about 4,000 people to demonstrate against the use of “Redskins” as a Washington mascot.

            Mascot supporters argue the protestors are “mobsters” trying to draw attention to themselves. Other supporters claim such sport nicknames uphold tradition and upstanding values.

Yet, imagine 20 years from now watching the Phoenix Jews play the San Diego Caucasians or the Pittsburgh Negroes host the Los Angeles Hispanics. Do those nicknames elicit tradition and upstanding values to you?

However, it is not the fault of Arizona or professional sports. It is the fault of us all. Sure, we can create “laws” and form commissions to investigate problems. But have we found a solution to the question of racism?

Look at the issues of abortion, euthanasia, capital punishment and civil rights. Each has been the subject of much debate. Once again, where are the solutions? All are still as unanswered as they were 20 years ago. It is as though we are moving nowhere.

Simply put, each of us has a duty to end racism and racial discrimination. Sure, we all have feelings of jealousy, prejudice and fear toward each other, especially on the basis of color. Yet, that is on the inside. It is what we convey to others that reveals those feelings.

In late August 1963, more than 200,000 blacks and whites assembled at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., to listen to King. He told them: “I have a dream that one day … little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today!”

If we realize we are all one people in color and content, the “dream” of ending racism toward blacks, Native Americans and our fellow man can slowly become a reality. Otherwise, we are not making King’s “dream” come true. We are making it a nightmare.

(Contributed by senior journalism major Scott Maier.)

It's a small world...

As a kid, I loved to skip stones across a pond (think the most I ever got was seven or eight). No worries. No responsibilities. No email.

Now, I often think about taking my iPhone and skipping it across a pond -- or the nearest highway.

Thanks to computers, smartphones, tablets, social media, email and other ever-changing technology, we're connected to the world and each other 24/7. Instead of waiting for the evening news with Brokaw, Jennings and Rather or the next morning's paper, all we have to do is log on to Twitter or Facebook. And we can share - even make - news ourselves, like I'm doing with this blog.

As a former journalist, I know it's awesome to reach contacts by cell phone, email or social media at any time and get details for my next story, then release it for viewing around the globe -- not just the local community -- in mere minutes, not hours or a day. As a communications professional, though, this instant accessibility can lead to queries from a journalist, administrator, client or "visitor" that must be answered immediately, especially in times of crisis. Time definitely is of the essence.

Technology is a double-edged sword (thank you, NSA), but change is constant, and change can be good (like instant replay in sports). For instance, Twitter has allowed me to continue my professional development. Just last week, Vocus, an integrated marketing company helping organizations reach and influence buyers (I became familiar with it though the Texas A&M Health Science Center), tweeted developments from the INBOUND13 marketing conference in Boston. The world's largest gathering of inbound marketers featured more than 100 sessions, keynotes and product demonstrations over four days.

A sample of the overflow of statistics, trends and strategies presented was interesting, remindful, even eye-opening. A daily recap is available on the Vocus blog. Among the findings:

• Technology has created a Garden of Eden in communication, but there's a snake in the garden: hyperconnectivity. How are we going to have human connections in this age? Put the gadgets down. (Arianna Huffington)
• According to Nielsen, 92% of consumers trust recommendations from family and friends and 70% of online strangers they never met. (Ben Grossman)
• People are better liked when they talk about experiences as opposed to their material possessions. (Beth Dunn)
• We're living in a post-PC world, as more than 30% of traffic to websites is from mobile. (Mitch Joel)
• People always remember the last thing, so make sure the last thing you say is amazing. (Nancy Duarte)

This information is important, even crucial, to my continued advancement as a communications professional. But instead of registering for the event, paying for hotel/air fare/taxi/meals, booking time out of my schedule, and then playing catch up at home or the office as was done just a few short years ago, I now can follow online at my convenience and connect directly with the presenters and attendees. All I need is an Internet connection.

In the meantime, my iPhone 5 rarely leaves my side (told the missus I'd skip the "5S" for the "6" next year), and I have dozens of apps for productivity, education, business, leisure and more. I also have accounts on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn and most recently, Instagram and Pinterest (help!).

When I initially left work at the end of May, I thought my life would be much simpler -- sleep, web surfing and Jerry Springer (how can that still be on?). To some extent, it has, but technology allows me to stay in contact and reconnect with friends and colleagues -- even make new ones -- all while drinking craft beer in my boxers (you're welcome for the visual). It also has enabled me to stay up-to-date in my field and with current events. Yep, change can be good, though nothing can ever replace the intimacy and frankness of a face-to-face conversation.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's been 20 minutes, so need to check my Facebook and Twitter accounts for the latest Candy Crush requests and weird news story. Til the next time...

Of Ales and Lagers

I like beer. My belly and stash of bottles and cans at home will attest to that (probably the main reason I'm walking). Even my wife, Erica, has taking a liking to the suds, having first compared the taste as similar to "cat pee" (No, I won't ask how she knows what that tastes like.).

Sure, in my youth I loved the mass-produced, cheap stuff -- Bud Light, Natural Light, Old Milwaukee, Keystone Light. And every once in a while, I'll plunk down $5 for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon or Lone Star.

But I've become a bit of a beer snob. No, I can't reel off the AVB (alcohol by volume) and aromas of a beer (e.g., earthy, spicy) or the step-by-step brewing process. I do, though, enjoy the more expensive, better quality craft beers.

And not only do I enjoy the beer; I also enjoy the passion and love that goes into it. Anyone can go to a supermarket, convenience store or liquor store, grab some beer, pay the cashier, and never give the transaction a second thought. But there's something special about visiting the brewery responsible for the beer, meeting the brewmaster and staff, touring the facility, and sampling the different offerings fresh from the tanks.

For me, it started around 2005, as I heard about a growing brewery nearby called Saint Arnold. Erica and I went on a Saturday morning tour in a warehouse district of northwest Houston, joining about 50 other beer aficionados. Entrance was free, and you received tokens for four 4 oz. samples (ummm, I took a couple of Erica's). The high quality beers were in a variety of styles -- ale, hefeweizen, Kölsch and more.

From then on, we were hooked. Others were, too. Saint Arnold added more beers to its rotation, including seasonals and "Divine Reserves" that draw lines of hundreds of customers in front of liquor stores and supermarkets hours before opening with quantity limits. They began charging an entrance fee and expanded enough to relocate to a nearly 100-year-old facility in north Houston. They even participate with other brewers in lobbying at the Texas Legislature, which led to laws in the past session that allow shipping breweries such as Saint Arnold to sell a set amount of beer directly to customers (must be consumed on site) and for brewpubs to package and sell some of their products for distribution in other retail outlets.

Counter at the Saint Arnold brewery in north Houston.

As I said, Saint Arnold got us started, and we'll never finish. We've been to countless breweries such as Shiner (Shiner), No Label (Katy), Live Oak (Austin), Independence (Austin), 512 (Austin), Southern Star (Conroe), New Republic (College Station) and Real Ale (Blanco) in Texas; Abita in Louisiana; Harpoon (Boston) and Cambridge Brewing Co. (Boston); Triple 7 Restaurant & Brewery (Las Vegas); Denver ChopHouse & Brewery (Denver); and others [make sure you're 21 if clicking on the links, wink, wink]. Each time, we learn more about the time and effort put into the craft, and when we're done, we're ready to find another destination. In fact, we hope someday to follow in the footsteps of the "Roaming Pint," a couple in their RV traveling to beer destinations across the United States.

The Spoetzl Brewery, home of Shiner.

No Label Brewery, an old rice silo in Katy, in its early days. Now, almost 1,000 people visit each Saturday.

It was in touring the breweries we learned about beer "dinners." Just like a wine dinner, beer dinners are beers paired around food. They're done in courses -- from appetizers to entrees to dessert -- joining a restaurant with the brewery. Often, both the head chef and head brewmaster attend to give background not only on the food and beverages but also why they complement each other so well. Erica and I have done a few, with Brooklyn Brewery in New York and Left Hand Brewing in Colorado coming to mind.

Brooklyn Brewery beer dinner at Alamo Drafthouse in Austin with renowned brewmaster Garrett Oliver.

So, we've got craft beer at the store, brewery tours and beer dinners. That's it, right? Well, what if I told you there were places called beer "festivals" where different breweries gather to showcase themselves and their various beers? Too good to be true? Thankfully not!

Some festivals are small. Others are not. Among our first were a pair in Boston -- American Craft Beer Fest and Beer Summit. They were followed by the 2011 Texas Beer Festival in Humble, where we sampled brews from No Label, Southern Star, Independence, 512, Saint Arnold, Real Ale and Rahr & Sons (Fort Worth). There also were numerous food trucks to help absorb all the alcohol.

Father-in-law posing at the 2011 Texas Beer Festival.

But the required pilgrimage for all beer "knurds" (thanks, Flying Saucer) is the Great American Beer Festival each fall in Denver. Now in its 32nd year (starting in 1982), it has grown from 800 attendees to 50,000. Tickets to each session sell out within minutes, and many of the hundreds of participating breweries produce special beers just for the event. Erica and I enjoyed the 2011 GABF and plan to go again soon.

Ahhh...the Great American Beer Festival

So there you have it. I love beer, and I love talking about it. In fact, this blog is making me pretty thirsty, so I'm going to grab a cold one from the fridge. Til the next time...

I've got the runs!

No, I don't. But I bet it caught your attention (that's one way to drive up page views).

Actually, I've got the "walks," though that's not really a noun. One nice thing about my break from the working world is an opportunity to go out for routine walks. Before, it was too early in the morning, I was too tired after work, or there were weekend plans.

Now, it's just too hot. But "duh" - it's summer, and it's Texas.

And when you're a few (OK, several) pounds overweight, have free time and want to enjoy the fresh air, there's nothing like a nice walk to get the blood flowing.

The first few times, I was unprepared, and it showed - out of breath, dehydrated and sunburned. Eventually, I developed a checklist that seems to take longer than the walk itself:

• Shorts, short-sleeved shirt, socks, running shoes and hat? Check.
• SPF 50 sunscreen for the face and neck? Check.
• Icy Hot® for the legs? Check.
• Aquaphor for the feet? Check.
• Bottled water? Check.
• iPhone with cool Ironman headphones? Check.

And we're off. Nothing like a good sweat, seeing the wildlife and enjoying some tunes. Also nothing like tall weeds, heavy traffic and landscapers everywhere.

Oh, and nothing like knots in your calves. Even with all my preparations, I still come down with 'em. In fact, I'm typing this blog now as I'm between massages with a roller. Talk about pure heaven.

Thankfully, I do feel better, and I may have even lost a few pounds (don't make me check the scale). This "torture," er exercise, also has reaffirmed my respect and admiration for runners and walkers.

My father-in-law, Eloy Rodriguez, competed in several marathons from the 1980s to the early 2000s, including the Chicago Marathon. He even walked a full marathon in Alaska at age 71.

Father-in-law (third from right in group shot) completed the Mayor's Marathon in Alaska in June 2010 at age 71.

My wife, Erica Rodriguez Maier, participated in a few races of her own, including the prestigious New York City Marathon. She also served as a local running coach here in Bryan-College Station, mentoring both newbie and experienced runners.

That's my better half completing the 2010 New York City Marathon.

I know of many other family, like Jacob Allenstein, and friends, like Steve King, who love running - so much that some are even training for or actually indulging in ultramarathons. Seriously?! Seriously?!

Not me. As long as I get my 2+ mile walk in a few times a week, I'm a happy camper. Nope. I'll be on the sidelines cheering as they push for new PRs (that's "personal record" in running-speak).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to drink some coconut water and continue to roll out these knotted calves. Til the next time...