Laura Boswell

Carpe diem. Tomorrow.

Got Balls? (And Don’t Want to Use Them Anymore?)

Dr. Shin prepares to assist Mike. Maybe now he can afford to do laundry?

College basketball brackets aren’t the only thing people are slicing and dicing this week—how about…testicles???

Yes, today was the culmination of the second annual VASECTOMY MADNESS Challenge from Washington DC radio jocks (ha, yeah I said it) The Sports Junkies of station 106.7 The Fan.

(Want to enter next year? Remember the URL 1067TheFan.com/BALLS. I can’t make this stuff up.)

Desperate area men submitted their stories in hopes listeners would vote for them to win a free vasectomy from Doctors Paul Shin and Jason Engel, of Urologic Surgeons of Washington. The three finalists included:

Mike, whose wife underwent successful in vitro fertilization, resulting in their three kids. Annnnd, that’s enough he says. Plus having more kids would put his wife at serious risk because of a fallopian tube disorder.

Eric, whose wife’s third pregnancy resulted from a party hosted by the Junkies themselves. Now she is on bedrest with an I.V., and he’s taking off work to care for the kids—so less money for growing costs. And then there’s our winner…

Cowboy Mike, who sort of defies explanation beyond, as one Junkie put it, “dirty.” For one, Mike lives in an actual  “yurt,” sort of like one of those “Game of Thrones” tents, minus the wine and wenches.

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Love, Layoffs and Liberal Arts: Why Centre Grads Are the Happiest (Most of the Time)

The author with her plaque in the Centre College Athletic Hall of Fame.

The author with her plaque in the Centre College Athletic Hall of Fame.

Recently, my phone’s message light blinked green-green-green above an impossibility: a message from my 20-year-old nephew, Hunter. And not his usual grunt response to some sports story I texted him:

—“Tom Brady just threw a touchdown so hard the CHEERLEADERS CAUGHT FIRE!!!”

—“Yup.”

No, this was, like, full sentences. He was going on a Kenyan mission trip, with a stopover in London. He knew I had studied there during my Centre days and wanted to know what sites to squeeze in.

So I advised him on key landmarks: Big Ben, Parliament, Piccadilly Circus’ neon thrum. But I realized that my happiest London memories weren’t those famous places, but the tiny moments, the ones you don’t scratch into a travel journal. You’re not having tea with the queen; you’re sitting in the dorm room window with your roommate Lynn, swinging your feet and feeding the geese below with crust from the all-you-can-eat buffet pizza you pilfered under your jackets because you’re so Pound-poor.

Yet that window is where you become best friends, even today.

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