Today when I was jogging, I saw a kid with a huge hard-looking hunk of snow cocked back and ready to throw it at his dog which looked to be only around 35 or 40 pounds. Now, I would give him the benefit of the doubt and say he was throwing it at his brother or some other target, but when he saw that I was looking at him, he stopped.

What I should have said was, "Hey, you kids! Don't throw snow hunks at your dog," but all that came out was, in my stern teacher voice, "Fellas . . ." With that one word, I hope I conveyed that they shouldn't hurt their poor little dog, who came running over to me to greet me.

Also, I saw this snowman today, and you may notice that he/she is holding a Starbucks cup, perhaps a latte, and he/she is wearing a scarf, or maybe one of those hipster ascots. That's what I get for jogging through Lincoln Park in Chicago; even the snowmen think they're all that.

So, I'm off to Florida tomorrow morning to stay with one of my best friends (guy from this post) and his wife, a great couple that I hardly see these days. HLP (Heterosexual Life Partner) and his wife are also coming, so while I'm not too enthused about being the 5th wheel, I am glad to be spending New Years Eve with some of my greatest of friends. Remember people, we often make a big deal about what we're doing for NYE, and then we're horribly disappointed when it's not the perfect night. Well, let me lay this one you: It's not about where you go or what you do; just surround yourself with great friends you care about and who care about you, and you're going to have a terrific time.

I'll be signing off for a few days, having a ball in Florida, but I wish you all a "Merry New Year!"

Have You Ever Seen Someone Jogging and Crying At the Same Time?

Well, you would have if you were near North Avenue Beach along Lake Michigan in Chicago at around 2:00 PM today. Usually running is when I do my best thinking, and it's the time where I'm most confident; Not so confident this time.*

I found it kind of odd that hundreds of people saw me running around crying, sitting in the fetal position trying to distract myself by watching volleyball, again, crying, and no one asked me what was wrong. Is that a big city thing, an American thing, and/or a detached modern society thing? I feel that in Sweden, for instance, someone would have stopped and asked how I was - preferably the concerned pedestrian would be a buxom blond-type Swede. Still, when one is going through a horribly depressing episode, as I am, one can tend to get a little self-absorbed, so I guess it's possible I'm apt to jump to the conclusion that no one cares about poor, poor Ken.

Still, I said to myself that if I ever saw someone in a similar position, I would make sure that person was okay. Oddly enough, as I was on the home stretch of the run, I saw a young woman sitting outside of her apartment building, talking on the phone, and she was either crying or had been before. Since I made a pledge only moments ago, I just had to honor it, so I turned around and asked if she was all right. She assured me that she was fine, and to me it was evident that although she didn't want any of my "counseling" at that time, she smiled in a way that suggested that she was touched that I took the time to see if my fellow Chicagoan was okay.

So, what do you think? Given similar circumstances, would you stop and ask someone if he/she was all right? Oh, and you don't have to ask how I'm doing. Old Gancey is going to be just fine. I promise.

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*The day before was during the anger stage, so it was, of course, a very angry run complete with swearing, punching street signs, and ripping leaves off of most every tree I passed. Very tough-guy, right?