Oye, friends...

I spent the evening with Amar, he of the Joslin Clinic fame. We didn't do anything spectacular - dined at Rami's in Brookline, watched a movie at Fenway, and talked... mostly talked. That felt nice. It was good to talk to someone who knew where i came from, where i was going... kosh, wither thou? it's been too long . The reason why they did not base inspirational movie scripts on our (Amar and mine) friendship in the med school days was because we weren't particularly close. We knew each other, and of each other, and I was always the "different" (read weird) kid who hung out with the engineers. But ever since my move to Beantown, we have hung out more often than in all of our medical days! And enjoyed hanging out. Amar used to travel across town to meet up. He trekked across every Sunday (almost!) to watch the NFL on my TV, patiently explaining to me that the "reason why they do not go for an offensive game on the fourth down is because they want to play it safe", and more answers to other asinine questions of mine... i still say that the offensive linemen should pull down the quarterback's pants while he is throwing, which sneaky strategy will work to a team's psychological advantage... Our times together involved talking about life, sports, molecular diabetology, and at some point, we watch a movie! good times...
These thought ran through my head when I was talking to my friend J about.... friends... with whom we are in touch... and i was telling her that my first response to a "need to talk" is to dial India! Why is that? Is it that it is a hardwired response? With the time difference, it can get difficult, but i cling to it (in a good way!)... As much as i love talking to folks back home, I also have close friends here that I can talk to just as easily, and I do talk to them... And my mentors are my best friends!! sharing my times of sadness and joy, of failure and success, of paradise lost and paradise regained, I am here now...
Hurrah for Amar!

Good deed for the day...

"It was a dark stormy night...."

No it wasn't... 'twas a cold and dreary morning in Jamaica Plain. I was walking to the T when I espied a cute furry animal ahead of me. It was a golden retriever who seemed to be going upto the door of all the houses on the street, sniffing around, walking out, and then onward to the next house. He seemed lost. You would think that a golden "retriever" would not have any issues with finding his way home. As I walked past him, he gave me the "puppy dog look of hopelessness". Anyone who has been on the receiving end of the puppy dog look of hopelessness will testify that its effect is immediate, and your invovlement in erasing the look from the doggy visage is a "lock-in". I went upto him and he immediately sat down and shook my hand. I kid you not, this dog was a player, "stringing my emotions with his actions"! Obviously, his training to retrieve consisted of finding the nearest human with a GPS and then cutely rolling over for you to scratch his belly. well, with me , all he got was an easily influenced human with a phone (I am thinking of getting one of those GPS phones - "Take a left in 20 yards and you will find a public restroom").

Someberly shaking hands with the mutt, I tried a variety of names, checking to see if he responded to any of them. Jake, Buddy, Cody, Duke, Hunter, muzzles, Tiger, rex, hobbes, went by with nary a bark out of him. I found a phone number on his collar, which turned out to be the Quincy Animal Hospital. I called them, gave them his collar ID and they said they would ask the owners to contact me. I waited for 10 mins, entertaining the dog with my antics and trying out new names. I found that he responded best to "Good Dog" , so he was renamed by me at the intersdection of Woodside Av and Washington St in Jamaica Plain. I got a call from the owner, and she came to pick him up. I found out that "Good Dog" would need to be changed to "Clyde".
Clyde is now safely ensconed at home (his home). May he have many more adventures in his life.