Q: I have two children. One is a boy born on a Tuesday. What is the probability I have two boys?
“What has Tuesday got to do with it?” you’re probably asking. Well, it has everything to do with it. The answer is at the end of this article.
Saw my friend Ivan last night. He shared with me a story that he heard a long time ago, and has never forgotten it. I don’t know the exact source, but a quick search indicates it’s a Native American tale. I’ve tightened up a bit, and it goes something like this:
There was once a boy who held extreme anger toward someone who had done him an injustice. Disturbed, he went to his grandfather for guidance.
“Let me tell you a story,” the grandfather said. “Come sit with me.”
The boy pulled up a chair.
“A fight is going on inside you,” the grandfather continued. “It is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves.”
The grandfather leaned forward in his chair.
“The first wolf is Evil. He is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, dishonesty, false pride, superiority, and ego.”
“And what is the other wolf?” the boy asked.
“The second wolf is Good,” the grandfather said. “He is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.”
The grandfather looked the boy in the eyes.
“These two wolves are inside you. They are inside me. And they are inside every other person in this world.”
“Which wolf will win?” the boy asked.
The grandfather sat back in his chair.
“The one we feed.”
Just went to the optometrist for the annual exam. They recently got a new machine in back that takes a photograph of the back of your eyeballs, allowing the doc to take a more thorough look at things without burning holes through your retinas if he did it live.
I snapped a couple photos of the monitor after the scan. The second shot is the back of my right eyeball as seen through my pupil.
Call me weak, but the sight of those all those nerves and vessels and capillaries made me cross my knees and instinctively grab my testicles.
Dennis Hopper has died after battling prostate cancer. He was 74.
Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout??? Gary Coleman — aka Arnold Jackson from Diff’rent Strokes — has died at 42. Peace at last. Thanks for all those Wednesday night laughs, buddy. Loved ’em.
