JohnOhab.com

Despite weeks of preparation, scouting, and a flawless gameplan, Team Carmichael knew it was chasing a nearly impossible goal. Sweeping the gold medals had never been done at the Neurology Picnic, and it would take more than just physical intimidation and the insemination of fear in the eyes of every man, woman, child, and clown to accomplish our goals. It would take cheating. And lots of it. Copious amounts. So much that it would be obvious we were cheating. There wouldn’t even be a question. “That Carmichael lab is full of cheaters”, they’d say, “but damn they’ve got a lot of gold medals!”.

With Dr. Li (code name: “Weapon X”) enrolled in every single competition offered at this year’s Neurology Picnic, and Dr. Fradinger and I focusing our energy on the Balloon Toss competition, all signs pointed towards a medal sweep for Team Carmichael. Our enthusiasm reached a pinnacle following our taking of the Balloon Toss crown, but, what appeared to us as a joyous medal ceremony celebrating team unity and a common dream, was interpreted by Kathy Li as a proverbial slap in the face. Why can’t five year olds win gold medals? Insult to injury. Hate begets hate. And while the latter point may not be even remotely relevant here, it was clear from the sparkling vigor in her eyes that little Kathy Li had a bit of Weapon X coursing through her veins as well.

As Morpheus once said, fate is not without a bit of irony. We had insert Weapon X into every competition, and though I recall him winning the top prize each time (May 14th entry), the picture taken at the picnic’s conclusion suggests a different outcome. It is not entirely clear how Kathy was able to manipulate the once immutable mind of Weapon X. Was it blackmail? Slight of hand? Or perhaps good old fashioned brute force. Either way, by days end, Kathy had accumulated all of Weapon X’s medals. And so ended a competitive, if confusing, 2006 Neurology Picnic Games.

In order of descending height: The Champ, Weapon X, Asta, and Kathy.

New competition. Same ending.

There will be no build-up. No rising tension. No narrative hook.

I am champion of the 2006 Neurology Picnic Balloon Toss.

Now, I’ve never been one to gloat, unless of course you consider this journal to be an extension of me, in which case my entire existence would be based on the relentless tooting of my proverbial horn. But we’ll leave that discussion for another day. The relevant point here is that the 2006 Neurology Picnic represented more to me than just an opportunity to finally eat hot dogs and refried beans with the personnel department; it was my one chance to exhibit my unmatched hand-eye coordination and my God-given drive to excel in front of those that control the renewal of my parking pass and the timely payment of my tuition fees.

But Balloon Tossing is not a individual sport. It takes a team with a unified goal. For this reason, I spent weeks (minutes) preceding this year’s picnic recruiting Dr. Erica Fradinger, a post-doctoral fellow in the Teplow lab, and most importantly, the 2005 Balloon Toss Champion. Together, we made an effective pair, putting aside stylistic differences (her two-handed toss vs. my manly one-fisted rocket throw), and dominating a field of fierce competition that included…well…basically a bunch of 10 years olds. But little Katie and Courtney gave the evil-eye better than the most seasoned balloon tossing veterans. By the end, their intimidating stares nearly got the best me, and it was only my passion for the gold that kept me from nailing one them in the face with Ol’ Pinky (our balloon).

cue Dan Brown journal entry ending

Meanwhile, in the distant practice fields, “Weapon X” honed his egg-tossing skills… only time would tell if he too would experience the sweet taste of victory… but if he knew then what he knows now, he would have never entered the competition at all…

The Champ, Erica, Ol’ Pinky, and some random woman in a clown suit

While advancing the field of neuroscience through the development of innovative neural repair strategies is the main goal in the Carmichael Lab, we also recognize that personal health and fitness are key ingredients to academic success. Athletics are nothing new for members of the Carmichael Lab. After all, Dr. Carmichael himself was once a legend on the rugby field, Justine regularly pushes the limits of human endurance with extreme sports such as sting ray wrangling and skydiving, and my accomplishments on the high school tennis courts are highlighted in most history textbooks. For these reasons, the Annual Neurology Picnic Day represents more than just a time for family and friends to gather in the spirit of togetherness. For Team Carmichael, it is an opportunity for lab members to impose our physical dominance in a series of demanding team races and skills challenges.

For reasons that we may never understand, the Carmichael Lab was notably absent from last year’s Neurology Picnic Day. Some have suggested that perhaps we simply don’t read much of the junk mail the Neurology Dept sends out, but we in the Carmichael Lab know the real reason: a nation-wide cover-up to exclude us from competition, thus eliminating the overwhelming fan favorite and clear sentimental pick to sweep the medals, and opening the door to a new champion.

Using a series of gain- and loss-of-function analyses, Dr. Carmichael formulated the ultimate plan; an undertaking so insidious, it was surpassed only by its monumental brilliance: he enrolled Dr. Li, more commonly known as “Weapon X”, in every single competition offered at this year’s Neurology picnic, with obvious disregard to size or age requirements.

The results of these competitions and more in a future journal entry… (cue music suggesting inescapable doom)