Author: DOuG pRATt

Animator John Kricfalusi, or John K., was born the day before my identical twin sister and I were born. One day total.

I suppose John K’s characters Ren and Stimpy are the sort you either hate or love. But I fell in the middle. Although I liked the show, I wasn’t absolutely wild-crazy for it, as many were. I could say I was too old to get into Ren and Stimpy’s scatological anarchy — but, like I said, John K. is one day older than me.

So with those comments out of the way, if you don’t already know about John K’s blog, go there now! I won’t rave about Ren and Stimpy, but I’ll rave about John K.’s blog. The man’s heart is so absolutely in the right place. Anybody who labors over a discussion of color theory in Huckleberry Hound and Yogi Bear cartoons from the late 50’s is AOK!

I’m spoiled by having the fastest available consumer Internet connection. I prefer not listening to audio that’s intended for dialup connections. Here is today’s “The Writer’s Almanac,” taken from my computer’s FM tuner. This is how all Web audio should sound!

[audio:http://www.dograt.com/Sounds/Wordpress/DEC06/WritersAlmanac121406.mp3]

I’m thinking about radio, so I’ll do another radio-related post.

When Garrison Keillor first came upon the scene, in the days of disco harkening back to the bygone era of big bands, I liked him. Then later, I became tired of him, feeling him to be too smug, and was glad of it that he disappeared for a while. When he returned I tolerated him, as I would when listening to one of those unavoidable, opinionated patrons sitting too close at a movie theater. Then I mellowed to his consistent tone, his constant message, and once again I came to appreciate the writings and the utterances of Garrison Keillor. I’ve continued to like him ever since. His is a voice of reason, that has a way of growing upon a person, resonating to the point where one might even find themself assuming his literary affectations.

[audio:http://www.dograt.com/Sounds/Wordpress/DEC06/Almanac.mp3]

Among Keillor’s seemingly endless outlets, he produces a weekday 5-minute program called The Writer’s Almanac. It’s on WGBH radio in Boston at 8:55 am. The Web site has only Real audio, which many people don’t have or, like me, have but don’t want. I’ve converted Wednesday’s installment, which you can hear on the audio player.

Last week The New York Times ran an article entitled, “Is Marathoning Too Much of a Good Thing for Your Heart?” The gist of the article is that a lot of marathon runners are getting older, and the number of heart attacks during races — many of them fatal — has skyrocketed. A contributing cause — perhaps the primary cause — may be heart damage caused by long distance running.

As if right on cue, this past weekend there was a fatality in the Tucson Marathon. The victim was only 40. He dropped dead during the last quarter-mile, meaning he had completed 26 out of 26.2 miles.

Runner In Tucson Marathon Dies At The Finish Line

12-11-2006 8:01 AM

(Tucson, AZ) — Marc D. Witkes of Durango, Colorado set out yesterday to tackle the Tucson Marathon but collapsed less than a quarter-mile from the finish line. He was later pronounced dead. Forty-year-old Witkes competed in 30-marathons and 25-ultramarathons including the Double and Triple Ironman competitions. His death came as a shock to his fellow runners. He broke down at 10:51 a.m. near North Oracle Road and East El Conquistador Way. Witkes was in cardiac arrest when paramedics arrived. Rescuers tried to resuscitate him and he was taken to Northwest Medical Center Oro Valley where he was pronounced dead.

I’ve run eight marathons. I can assure you that while chugging up mile 18 of the Boston Marathon, the notorious Heartbreak Hill, your heart feels like it’s trying to escape from your chest.

For now I’m not running, due to tendinosis in my right ankle, caused by wear and tear from 33 years of running. I’m told that if all goes well, I’ll be able to start running again in three weeks, after the first of the year. I’ve been told by the foot doc to forget about running the Boston Marathon this year. Maybe my body is also trying to tell me something.