Thinking To Much????????????

It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now
and then to loosen up. Inevitably though, one thought led to
another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.

I began to think alone - "to relax," I told myself - but I knew
it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me,
and finally I was thinking all the time.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment
don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself.

I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and
Kafka.

I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What
is it exactly we are doing here?"

Things weren't going so great at home either. One evening I had
turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life.
She spent that night at her mother's.

I soon had a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss
called me in. He said, "Skippy, I like you, and it hurts me to
say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you
don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
confessed, "I've been thinking..."

"I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"

"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."

"It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much
as college professors, and college professors don't make any
money, so if you keep on thinking we won't have any~money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently, and she began to
cry. I'd had enough. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I
stomped out the door.

I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche, with
NPR on the radio. I roared into the parking lot and ran up to the
big glass doors... they didn't open. The library was closed.

To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me
that night.

As I sank to the ground clawing at the unfeeling glass,
whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is
heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably
recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's
Anonymous poster.

Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never
miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational
video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences
about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.

I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life
just seemed... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

-- Author Unknown

Golfers- Keep These Clear!!!!!!!!!!

There are two days in every week about which we should not worry,
two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares,
its faults and blunders, its aches and pains.

Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in
the world cannot bring back Yesterday.

We cannot undo a single act we performed; we cannot erase a
single word we said. Yesterday is gone forever.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow, with all its
possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and its poor
performance; Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control.

Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of
clouds, but it will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in
Tomorrow, for it is yet to be born.

This leaves only one day, Today. Any person can fight the battle
of just one day. It is when you and I add the burdens of those
two awful eternities, Yesterday and Tomorrow, that we break down.

It is not the experience of Today that drives a person mad, it is
the remorse or bitterness of something which happened Yesterday
and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.

Let us, therefore, Live but one day at a time.

-- Author Unknown

Cool Story.......

He was driving home one evening, on a two-lane country road.
Work, in this small mid-western community, was almost as slow as
his beat-up Pontiac was. But he never quit looking. Ever since
the factory closed, he'd been unemployed. And with winter raging
on, the chill had finally hit home.

It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on
it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already
left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill. But he
stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and
father. He was born here and knew the country.

He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either
side, and with his headlights not working, that came in handy. It
was starting to get dark, and light snow flurries were coming
down. He'd better get a moving on.

He almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the
road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed
help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His
Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had
stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt
her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry. He could see
that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew
how she felt. It was that chill that only fear can put in you. He
said, "I'm here to help you ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car
where it's warm?
By the way, my name is Joe."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was
bad enough. Joe crawled under the car looking for a place to put
the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able
to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.
As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down her window
and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St.
Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him
enough for coming to her aid. Joe just smiled as he closed her
trunk.

She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been
all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things
that could have happened had he not stopped. Joe never thought
twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was
helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had
given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that
way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told
her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she
saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the
assistance that they needed, and Joe added "...and think of me".

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a
cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home,
disappearing into the twilight. A few miles down the road the
lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and
take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home.
It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas
pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register
was like the telephone of an out of work actor--it didn't ring
much.

Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet
hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for
the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed that the waitress
was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain
and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone
who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she
remembered Joe.

After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get
her change from a hundred-dollar bill, the lady slipped right out
the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She
wondered where the lady could be, and then she noticed something
written on a napkin. There were tears in her eyes, when she read
what the lady wrote. It said, "You don't owe me a thing, I've
been there too. Someone once helped me out, the way I'm helping
you. If you really want to pay me back, here's what you do. Don't
let the chain of love end with you."

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people
to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That
night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was
thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could
she have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the
baby due next month, it was going to be hard. She knew how
worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she
gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's
gonna be alright; I love you, Joe."

-- Author Unknown

Lot's Of Time?

Imagine there is a bank which credits your account each morning
with $86,400. Carries over no balance from day to day, allows you
to keep no cash balance, and every evening cancels whatever part
of the amount you had failed to use during the day.

What would you do?

Draw out every cent, of course!

Well, everyone has such a bank. Its name is TIME. Every morning,
it credits you with 86,400 seconds. Every night it writes off, as
a lost, whatever of this amount you have failed to invest to good
purpose. It carries over no balance. It allows no overdraft.

Each day it opens a new account for you.

Each night it burns the records of the day.

If you fail to use the day's deposits, the loss is yours.

There is no going back. There is no drawing against the
"tomorrow".

You must live in the present on today's deposits.

Invest it so as to get from it the utmost in health, happiness
and success!

The clock is running. Make the most of today.

Seize the day!

-- Author Unknown

Check This Out Golfers....

J Sports Sci. 2002 Aug;20(8):599-605.

Lindsay D, Horton J.

University of Calgary Sports Medicine Centre, Alberta, Canada. dlindsay@ucalgary.ca

Low back pain is a common musculoskeletal disorder affecting golfers, yet little is known of the specific mechanisms responsible for this injury. The aim of this study was to compare golf swing spinal motion in three movement planes between six male professional golfers with low back pain (age 29.2+/-6.4 years; height 1.79+/-0.04 m; body mass 78.2+/-12.2 kg; mean +/- s) and six without low back pain (age 32.7+/-4.8 years; height 1.75+/-0.03 m; body mass 85.8+/-10.9 kg) using a lightweight triaxial electrogoniometer. We found that golfers with low back pain tended to flex their spines more when addressing the ball and used significantly greater left side bending on the backswing. Golfers with low back pain also had less trunk rotation(obtained from a neutral posture), which resulted in a relative 'supramaximal' rotation of their spines when swinging. Pain-free golfers demonstrated over twice as much trunk flexion velocity on the downswing, which could relate to increased abdominal muscle activity in this group. This study is the first to show distinct differences in the swing mechanics between golfers with and without low back pain and provides valuable guidance for clinicians and teachers to improve technique to facilitate recovery from golf-related low back pain

Buying Some Time...

The man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to
find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.

"Daddy, may I ask you a question?"

"Yeah sure son, what is it?" replied the man.

"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?"

"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?"
the man said angrily.

"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an
hour?" pleaded the little boy.

"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."

"Oh," the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said,
"Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"

The father was furious. "If the only reason you wanted to know
how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a
silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself
straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being
so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time
for such childish games."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.

The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little
boy's questioning. 'How dare him ask such questions only to get
some money!' After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and
started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. Maybe
there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00, and
he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the
door of the little boy's room and opened the door.

"Are you asleep son?" he asked.

"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.

"I've been thinking," he said to his son. "Maybe I was too hard
on you earlier. It's been a long day and I took my aggravation
out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you Daddy!"
he yelled.

Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled
up bills. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then
looked up at the man.

The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get
angry again. "Why did you want more money if you already had
some?" the father grumbled.

"Because I didn't have enough yet," he said, "but now I do."

"Daddy, I have $20.00 now. Can I buy an hour of your time?"

-- Author Unknown