Dave Wright Writes

Skinny Dipping Dave Wright “Splash another cup of water on the rocks!” The water sizzled and hissed sending a plume of steam that stung our eyes and burned our lungs. “One more time.” The six of us groaned with pleasure as we broke out in a unanimous sweat. “That feels great!” shouted one of my fraternity brothers. Another sucked in his breath. “I wonder if my cardiologist would approve of this. If I survive, I don’t think I’ll tell her.” It was spring break in the middle of March. While most college students migrated south to the beaches of Cancun or Miami, we followed the snow geese north to a church camp on the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. A young couple who lived at the camp as winter caretakers were starved for company, so they agreed to host us. We slept in a single bunk house, dined at the camp cafeteria, and cross-country skied during the days. One evening we fired up the woodburning stove in the sauna located on a small peninsula at the f

A Happy Wanderer Dave Wright When I was in college, I had an index card pinned to my bulletin board that read, “Efficiency and organization are the keys to progress”—and I lived by those words—that, and its corollary, “Focus. Finish.” Finish the assignment before taking a Mountain Dew break. Wash all the dishes. Don’t leave that fry pan for later. Mow that last strip on the boulevard. Complete the chapter before turning out the lights. These words of wisdom got me through a rigorous veterinary curriculum and served me well throughout my professional career. I could withdraw to my dorm room, outline three chapters in a medical text with a fraternity full of rowdy conversations competing in the background, and still retain the salient points. I focused best with outside distractions. If I was forced to study at a quiet library, I set an alarm to remind me when I could leave. Silence shouted at me to go home and get something done. When I was in veterinary practice at the