No More Triassic

For the first time since I rode in the medical transport vehicle from St. Luke's Roosevelt to Mt. Sinai on February 1, I woke up this AM no longer feeling like a gynormosaur, a little known plant-eating dino, whose thighs when measured as a pair covered an area roughly the size of what is now Rhode Island. I still weigh 204, which is about 10 lbs more than I have ever weighed on a regular basis, but down from the nearly 230 I had bloated to by the time I got to Sinai. This should help the rehab, especially in the stretching exercises in my lower trunk and in walking. Moreover, I feel great this AM.

The last two nights we have watched Young Frankenstein and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. One is tempted to be an old fart and say "they don't make movies like that anymore," especially in the case of YF, which remains laugh out loud funny from the moment Gene Wilder reaches Transylvania and Igor tells him to "walk this way," until the end. Butch a cut below, but not far. The "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" bicycle scene looks even more pointless 40 years on and there's way too much horseback chasing, but otherwise it's a droll, prototype bromance and great entertainment.