Where There's Smoke

Faithful Followers of this blog (thanks, Mom), may recall my post from February 2012 in which I promised to chronicle the adventures of a fat man (yours truly) in a little surya namaskar . For the uninitiated, surya namaskar is a sequence of asanas or body positions involved in the practice of yoga.  Of course, I thought it was something one wears when practicing yoga which would have made my Chris Farley/David Spade reference actually funny, but no sense crying over spilled curry chutney. It has taken some time and a confluence of circumstances to get me into the ashram or, as I call it, “the place where a small woman makes me do things that hurt,” but I’ve finally taken the plunge.  For those considering taking up the practice, I’m here to report back what to expect once you decide the recliner just isn’t meditative enough. So without further ado (which in and of itself is superfluous and, in fact, further ado), I present Seven 7hings: About Yoga. 1.   ...

Shane Battier , current Miami Heat backup and erstwhile Duke Blue Devil, recently said "Sometimes you've got to eat a turd sandwich.  Makes the ribeye taste better next time." Happy breakfast, sports fans! While his choice of analogy was perhaps somewhat inelegant or distasteful, his point was perfect for recent (and current) events in the life of this fancy-pants writer and wanderer. For a multitude of reasons, I've recently taken a position far, far away from home, with "home" being defined as that place where I live in peace and harmony with my beloved Miss Aunt Lisa, Toby, the Notorious Z.O.E. (she loves it when you call her big Paw-Paw), and sometimes the lovely and wholly insane Lady Lauren. While at an intellectual level these circumstances did not appear to be particularly daunting, the effect has been unsettling to say the least (though I rarely ever say the least). I traded our beautiful home in Winter Springs, Florida for a on...