Author Archives: Tim Elhajj

Bad Doctor

 

I go to visit my cardiologist this morning. I’m excited because the last time I saw him, I was 35 lbs. heavier. When I mention this, he ignores me. But he’s an odd bird, so I repeat myself, thinking he might have missed it.

He just sniffs and says, “Hummm.” My cardiologist believes in medicine, only Western medicine.

He jiggered my prescriptions around the last time I saw him, as he has done on all my bi-annual visits for the last four or five years. Together we look at my recent lipid numbers, which have sank dramatically. He wants to take credit for this, pointing to the new “mix” of medicines he prescribed.

I laugh in his face.

“Diet and exercise,” I say. “That’s what’s got us those new low numbers.”

“Two words,” he says, “Arthur Ashe.”

Arthur Ashe? I vaguely remember him being into tennis, but I’m not a big tennis fan, so what do I know. “Didn’t he die of AIDS?” I ask.

“But he got the AIDS from a blood transfusion!”

I am looking at my cardiologist like he has lost his mind. What does death from blood transfusion have to do with diet and exercise?

“He only needed the blood transfusion because he needed a bypass.”

It’s an 8:30 am appointment and I haven’t had all my coffee, but I still don’t see the connection. Sensing my confusion, the doctor offers more.

“You’re not in better shape than Arthur Ashe.” He says this with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“But isn’t Ashe dead?” I ask.

Most studies extol the virtues of diet and exercise. I am shocked at my cardiologist’s myopic approach to treating heart disease.

What a hard-on.

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Zen and Writing Memoir

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Went to see Natalie Goldberg Friday night.

I could have sworn I read her book, Writing Down the Bones. But I don’t see how I could have, since until they introduced her Friday evening, I had no idea she was into Zen. According to Wikipedia, teaching writing using Zen principals is Goldberg’s niche. Fortunately for me, I just finished Dinty Moore’s, The Accidental Buddhist, which is a fun exploration of Moore’s experience with Buddhism. So when Goldberg started talking about Monkey Mind and focusing too much on this side of life, I was able to put it mostly in context.

Poor thing lost her mother on Christmas eve. She was talking about the experience of losing her mother and, at one point, she asked, “Where is my mom?” It came out so plaintive. The rest of the night I felt sad, vulnerable. Sooner or later everyone loses their mom.

Goldberg also pronounces memoir funny. She says, “memwhhar.”

And I long for the East coast.

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Don’t Cry for Me

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Just before Christmas, I joined a health club and started a rigorous weight reduction program. I’m thirty-five pounds lighter than I was in December.

Where did it all go?

Fitness centers are strange places. This one has dozens of sexy young trainers all dressed in the same uniform (dark blue sweat suits). It’s also a very big club, with long, double-wide corridors that seem to go on endlessly. As you walk from one huge room to another, all the trainers smile their big toothy smiles and nod their handsome heads.

Sometimes, striding through the club, it feels as if I’m stuck in an episode of Star Trek.

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Strange Submission

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Today I sent my story, The Solution to All My Problems, over to The Stranger, which bills itself as Seattle’s only newspaper. It’s certinally the only Seattle newspaper that’s going to publish a story about jacking your Mom’s purse, even if it is told in an amusing way.

The story doesn’t freak me out as much anymore. It’s a commodity. I’m just another struggling writer sending his work around. I realize it’s not the kind of story you can tell at a party (or even an AA meeting, it turns out). But I like to think it works as an essay.

Let’s see what The Stranger thinks.

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Close, But So Far


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I almost got one past the editors over at Brevity.

Alas, it was not meant to be. I got the rejection slip on Valentine’s Day, but was pleased to see that the editor, Dinty Moore, said my story (20/20) had been “deliberated carefully and enjoyed.” 

Today I spent a good part of the morning and early afternoon submitting more of my work. You have to expect rejection. Competition is tough. You have to revel in even being considered.

It’s only a matter of time.

And submissions.

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More Picking Favorites: 2007 Memoir Edition

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Of all the memoir I read last year, here are my three favorites:

Dreams From My Father: I know this was available prior to 2007, but I read it last spring and was much impressed with Barack Obama’s willingness to tackle complex subjects in a deep and meaningful way. Everyone talks about his drug use in college, but what stood out for me were the heartfelt discussions about coming to terms with his mixed race background and his complex feelings for his father, an African living in Kenya.

I’m encouraged that Obama used memoir as a vehicle for opening a frank discussion of race in America. I’m delighted he felt comfortable enough with his modest drug use to discuss it openly (in stark contrast to Bill Clinton’s quasi-admission of not inhaling his drugs).  

Foreskin’s Lament: If I had to pick, this was probably my favorite memoir from 2007. Partly a discussion of fatherhood, partly a coming-of-age memoir, Shalom Auslander describes with great humor his attempts to break free from of the bonds of his Orthodox Jewish upbringing somewhere in upstate New York.

AlternaDad: Neal Pollack’s memoir about becoming a father convinced me that I should try to market some of my own essays about parenting. What I have noticed is that the best memoir always seems to inspires me to write my own. 

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Playing Favorites: 2007′s Best Movies

Here are my picks (in no particular order):

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix: The Potter movies are turning into a fine franchise and this one was probably my second favorite of the whole bunch. I find myself looking forward to them, even though I’ve read all the books and know the story. Imelda Staunton was deliciously wicked.

No Country for Old Men: Some smarty pants movie reviewer (probably David Bianculli?) said that none of the recent slew of Iraq war movies spoke to the dark times we’re in as well as this picture. I have to agree. It’s an unrelenting character study of evil.

The Bourne Ultimatum: Typically the heros in these kinds of movies kill with impunity, never giving a second thought to their actions. Everything is justified (presumably) because the bad guys are just that bad. This one breaks the mold, with its The-Bad-Guys-Are-Us plot.

3:10 to Yuma: In the old Westerns, the good guy was the good guy because he was the most dynamic, driven personality in town. 3:10 to Yuma is just like that, but now the chrisma extends to the bad guy, too.

The Lives of Others: There was lots to like here, from the stazi officer’s gentle seduction as he monitors the writer’s life, to the crazy paranoia in the stazi ranks (the lunch room scene was fabulous). I’m so glad they skipped the big romantic ending and opted instead for the much subtler book dedication ending.

28 Weeks Later: Good, tense, horror. I like that it didn’t depend on buckets of blood, but relied more on the psychology of guilt and betrayal for its tension. I wish zombie Dad hadn’t kept coming back, but this flaw wasn’t enough to lessen the movie for me.

Juno: Teen pregenancy is becoming its own little sub-catagory under the coming-of-age genre. I loved the snappy dialogue, the quirky characters, even the feel good ending.

That’s it. But there are a lot of movies I haven’t had time to see. My Netflix queue is packed with a ton of good stuff from 2007, including There Will Be Blood, Michael Clayton, American Gangster, and Gone Baby Gone.

In 2008, I have to get out to more movies!

When Opposing Teams Pray

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Hard to say if Aaron is looking for celestial intervention, but his opponent clearly has his hands clasped together. If one is praying for the ball to drop, the other is not.

Being omnipotent has to be a tough job.

I posted a few more pictures of Aaron playing basketball earlier today.

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MTV Cribs Goes Coast Guard

MTV Cribs is the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous for my son’s generation. Here he and a friend (roommate) do a little reality TV improv.

Despite all the fancy new electronics, barracks life doesn’t seem to have changed that much in the twenty five years since I was in the service.

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