INK ON MY FINGERS

Today I bought the Cincinnati Enquirer, Sunday edition. I have gotten away from Newspapers over the past few years. If I came across one in a restaurant at lunch, or in a waiting room or lobby I'd definitely read it. But I don't buy them anymore. I'm not opposed to them. I don't dislike them. I read everything online these days, it's so easy. I still have magazines subscriptions delivered to the house. I guess you have to have something to read in the bathroom, right? uncool to take your laptop to the john and all that I guess... But I bought a sunday paper this morning and I really enjoyed it. It's smaller than it used to be.

I'M OK WITH ME

I don't think it happens all of a sudden.  I don't think there's like one thing that happens.  I think maybe there's a series of events in your adult life that makes you realize, whether consciously or not, that you have produced a life that's OK with you.  It's very true to say that we are always our own biggest critics. 

Who am I?   Who am I supposed to be?  Who was I supposed to be?  How did I get here?  What has lead me to this place, which makes me who I am today?  How did I build the neighborhood of "me" that I see before me in the mirror?  I've made so many mistakes.  I have so many great things to be thankful for.  Have I learned enough from the good and bad to make myself OK, even for my standards?  Why do I have standards?  What the hell does that mean?  Is it possible to have standards, whether high or low for one's own self?  Am I getting at Self Actualization?  Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs?  Not sure.  When do we just say "hey, I'm ok with me" and know in our heart of hearts that we are OK with ourselves?  Let's bring in the pros.
 What is Self-Actualisation? Located at the peak of Maslows hierarchy, he described this high level need in this way:
"What a man can be - he must be, this need we may call self actualization. It refers to the desire of self fulfillment, namely to the tendency for him to become actualized in what he is potentially. This tendency might be phrased as the desire to become more and more what one is, to become everything that one is capable of becoming."

So, he's saying that the self actualization step is when you've become all that you can be.  All potential has been achieved.  You're running at the top level for you.  You've learned from everything you can and then you said "I'm here, I'm self actualized, I'm on the top of my game and life can't get any better". I call bullshit. 

Can't you just be good?  As in "I'm good".  Why do we have to be fully maximized?  If you ran a car like that you'd burn the motor out in about thirty thousand miles.  There's a judgmental tone that I get from the idea of Self Actualization....at least the way Maslow defines it.    Why can't we just be who we are?  Why can't we just say "hey, I like me, I'm good.  I put in a day's work and fed the kids.  I can't go to another cooking class or to a book club tonight, i'm exhausted and I REALLY AM OK WITH ME!" 

Life is short.  Too short to care about true self actualization.  Self actualization is overrated in my opinion.  Be good at what you do.  Be a good person.  Snicker at the fat guy on the elevator or tell racist jokes.  I don't really care what you do.  But at the end of the day, I say be good with yourself.  If you can find that peace, that state of mind where you can just say "dude, i'm good with me" and move on, then that's the top of the mountain for me.  That's where it counts.  We can always learn more.  Lee Iaccoca wasn't the smartest most self actualized guy in the world.  I'm not either.  But I bet we could have a good conversation about life and friendship and kids and beer and women.  But I'm never going to save Chrysler.  But he's never going to look at my baby girl in the eye and tell her "no, put that down, it's dangerous. I love you and don't want you to get hurt" when she picks up a pack of matches or piece of broken glass.  The two achievements are no lesser or no greater to each other.  They are simply things that we can do for ourselves and not for each other.  And let us not forget, Iacocca was the man behind the Pinto.   One of the greatest auto industry foibles ever.  And I taught my daughter how to give the middle finger.  But that's my whole point.  I'M OK WITH THAT because I'm ok with me.  There is no standard.  Grow, love, live and question things.  Find answers and make arguments.  Live life with the level of passion you're comfortable with and keep going.  I don't need to be at the top of the mountain.  I don't need to be a master of the universe.  What I need is to be is happy with the idea of me.  That who I am is good, is OK.  I don't live to others' standards.  Why would I?  I am me.  I am ok being me.  I'm ok with me.

But do what ya want.  You gotta live with you.  I just gotta live with me.   

WHY I LOVE FACEBOOK

Last night I got together with one of my oldest friends in my life.  I've known him since first grade.  We went through all schools together.  Had most of the same classes together through most of junior high.  We weren't that close in high school but got back into a groove in college.  And then for no reason at all, we stopped hanging around.  And last night was the first time I'd seen him maybe 14 years?  Fourteen years man.  His name is Dan, we'll leave it at that.  Dan looked exactly the same as he did last time I'd seen him.  Except he had a mustache.  He has two beautiful daughters and he married Renee, whom he'd broken up with about 15 years ago.  I guess they got back together four or five years later and have been together ever since.  Danny and I had a few bottles of suds and talked liked 40 year old boys.  We had that instant trust that lifelong friends always will have.  We felt like brothers and the time flew by.  We promised we'd try to do it every month or so and by God, we will.  A good story to say the least.  And I didn't run into Danny at the mall.  I've never been to a class reunion (nor will I ever).  It wasn't luck or fate or devine intervention that reconciled these old friends.  It was Facebook. 

Through a few groups of interest I have had discussions with people in Europe, and in other states that I've never been to.  I have rekindled friendships that I haven't had in years.  I've made a few better friends through Facebook, I have been inspired by Facebook.  I snoop on people for fun, curious how their life progressed since we'd been friends in High School or Junior High.  I get jealous when I see someone has moved to a niftier town than I have.  I can't imagine moving to California, but for some its been their path.  Some people are career oriented, some family-crazy.  Some haven't moved out of their parent's house.  Some are Vice Presidents of companies and some look kinda crazy Unibomber-ish.  Facebook is interesting. 

My friend Tony won't get onto Facebook.  He thinks it's for kids.  He thinks it's a gab-fest.  He thinks it's stupid.  And I admit, before I got on Facebook, I kind of agreed with those sentiments.  But now I use FB for so much more.  It's kind of a news reader for me.  When I "like" things it's not just me saying I like them.  These things send me all the news I want.  I get feeds from sports writers and magazines and from the Cincinnati Reds, CNN, the Zoo, the Museums I belong to.  I get coupons and deals for restaurants and dry cleaners sent to me on the day the deals are going on.  I get alerts for weather and traffic.  It's my own personalized information feed.  I love it.  If I think there's something that might be interesting I write it or I post it.  I keep up with friends and their interests.  I see pics of their kids.  I look at them or don't.  It's my choice.  I say no to requests, I hide a ton of people that want to be my friend who's friendship I accept, but then can't really stand the stupid shit they post every hour about their cold, or their cough or their Farmville.  So, if I don't respond to some of the things that my friends have written, and they know they're guilty of posting stupid shit all the time...I probably don't see those posts anymore and I never ever will. 

My kids love for me to post their pictures and artwork, I tell them they're famous.  I love for my relatives to see my girls growing up and doing all the fun stuff we do.  I love for my friends to see pictures of my girlies and tell me how cute or how big or how cool they are. 

Facebook is cool.  Use it like you're cool.  Make all of what you put online mean something.  Let it be funny or informational or useful or clever.  Nobody cares about your haircut escapade at the mall today.  Use it to find Danny or another old pal.  Use it to investigate your vacation spot.  Use it to be a part of a group that is there to learn or have fun.  Use it to inspire or be inspired.  It's really not just a toy.  Half a billion people on FB is power at your fingertips.  What else do you need besides Facebook and Google?  Seriously.  What else? 

Or not.  Just don't make me hide you.   

Dad, did you at least like snow when you were a kid?

Hannah asked me this on the way to school this morning.  Did I like the snow when I was a kid?  I told her I did.  It was fun to play in, and to shovel and throw snowballs.  We used to bury ourselves in it, and build forts in it.  We used to pack milk cartons (had to explain cartons) full of snow and made KILLER forts.  And it used to get us out of school several times per year.  And it was fine with me.  But I'm a grumpy old man now.  I've never been a big guy, so I don't have much body fat.  I mean I'm six feet tall, but I don't weigh more than 165 on my heaviest days.  I got no insulation here folks!  So, I don't mean to sound like a grumpy old man, but I'M 40!!  I'm cold all the time.  I've had back surgery and leg surgery...one ankle surgery, one hip surgery.  Shoveling snow is like a whole different kind of hell for me.  I'm not saying others don't have bad backs and legs and necks and shoulders.  I know they do.  For me, snowstorms make me pissy.  Makes me feel like I'm gonna have a sore back and cold toes for the upcoming week.

So, I take them sledding.  I pull Sarah up the hill.  I throw snow balls.  I shovel the patio so I can grill through the snow.  I shovel the driveway (almost all the time). I take pictures of them in the snow.  I take videos.  I enjoy watching them get worn out from the viewpoint of the front seat of my SUV with the heated seats. 

I don't like snow.  I don't like cold.  I absolutely HATE winter.  But it's a lesson in life regarding parenting.  We do all kinds of crap that we don't want to do.  I don't want to cook, I don't want to eat Mac N Cheese, I don't want to do all the dishes, I don't want to do laundry and fold clothes and put the stuff away.  Yes, I get some help from Hannah because she's 9, but it's still on me.  I guess winter for me is just like life.  Filled with stuff I can't stand, but I end up getting through it all because it gets me to the good stuff.  The good stuff is swimming, and hiking and playgrounds...putting the kids on my feet and playing airplane, snuggling under the covers, going to movies and seeing those huge 3-D glasses on my little girls.  I live for those times.  I love those times. 

So, winter comes every year, and I hate it more every time it does.  But it just means that spring and summer are right around the corner.  I can smell the suntan lotion even now.  I can see my girls on the trampoline laughing uncontrollably.  I can feel the hot cement under my feet around the pool.  I can taste a hamburger as I sit by the grill that I just cooked it on.  I can see Hannah with catchup on her shirt and a little blob of it in the corner of her mouth as she finishes her hotdog with the grill marks on it.  I can't wait to eat outside.  I can't wait for it to be light at ten o'clock and chasing fireflies with a peanut butter jar.  I can't wait for Hannah to climb into the Maple in front of the house and hear her tell me "this is my climbing tree Dad".  Mostly, I can't wait to see their little butts with the sharp tan lines.  I can't wait for spring.  I hate the winter, but I love looking forward to the things I love.     

SONG FOR THE DAY

LOST FINALE

I really loved the LOST series finale.  It was what it was supposed to be.  That show has been an endless cycle of frustration and questions for me.  Most of the questions I had were never really answered.  That's okay with me though.  It would have somehow cheapened the whole thing if they'd kind of went around and addressed all the confusion. The show was weird and touching and frustrating, but it really made me think.  It's one of those shows that I'd be thinking about the next day, not really even thinking about it, but rather, it was just on my mind for a day or so after most of the episodes.  I miss all of them already.  They were a part of my week, every week, in and out, during every season.  It almost feels like when a good friend tells you they're taking the job on the west coast.  You know you'll see them again eventually, but you know things will never really be the same between the two of you.  LOST had gotten us used to the idea that we'd lose friends along the way.  That pretty blonde girl that Sayid was in love with died, her brother, Hugo's girlfriend died, Charlie died, Jack's dad died, Juliette died, hell even that dude that "ran" the island died.  And I guess in the end that's what the show was about.  Death.  How very fun and entertaining for us all.  Death, and suffering.  What have we become as a society?  I guess death and suffering are some of the more common literary themes that have ever existed.  

So, what do we take away from this series?  That is a good question.  I really loved all the characters, good and bad.  I loved how it pissed me off every week.  I loved how me and my friends would talk about it the next day.  I loved all the theories about who they were, what the island was, why they were there.  Hugely entertaining for me.  And I realized that the actors on that show were very good actors.  Jack, Charlie, Desmond, Locke, Ben...they are all terrific thesps.  I hope they all go on to have greater careers.  They were all very interesting.  My take away is that when you get a group of actors casted perfectly, and have great writing, something happens magically.  And when that magic happens, you just enjoy it, ride it, and try not to kill it.  We all knew the end of the show was coming for like four years.  I didn't miss a show since they announced it would come to an end.  Fabulous show. Fabulous ride.  I guess after watching LOST for years, now I'm the one that's LOST...

24 FINALE

Since I haven't watched the finale of LOST yet, I can't speak to it yet.  But tonight I did watch the 24 series finale and I have to admit, I'm really gonna miss that damn show.  Jack Bauer was one of the coolest, toughest, iconic TV characters ever in the history of TV.  Sometimes we'd go "oh yeah, right", but we'd just tune in next week to see how Jack survived whatever was thrown at him.  And yes, there was a more than average amount of predictability in the finale, but who cares.  I enjoyed it.  And when the last few minutes were happening in the final act, I started to dread that it was over.  I really felt the show ending.  And they did the final 5 minutes so well...perfect images, perfect music,  perfect tone, perfect acting.  It was tough not to be more than a little sad about the whole thing ending.  But I guess I should just be thankful that the very success of the show was what allowed it to end it's run on it's own terms.  It could've gone down like when Laverne and Shirley moved to California, then so did Lenny and Squiggy and the Big Ragu, Carmine Ragusa too...

So, in the end, I'm very happy with the entertainment I've received from 24 and I'm thankful that the network allowed the writers to go where they wanted with the scripts and the messages therein.  That show made me think alot and it entertained the hell out of me.  I'm gonna miss ya 24.  Cheers. 

I TRY NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT...BUT JUST FOR A FEW MINUTES HERE TONIGHT...

When my brother died in a house fire, about 15 years ago, there was lot's of speculation about how it happened.  The coroner told my Pop and me and my mom how Jim died close to the door, struggling to get out.  He wasn't burned, he was just trying to get out.  He died of smoke inhalation.  He was 28 or 29 at the time I guess.  Poor bastard.  He led a troubled life.  No, it wasn't troubled, it was awful.  He was hopelessly lost from birth.  The medical file from when he was born (he was adopted like me) said he didn't have enough oxygen to his brain when he was born and he'd forever be plagued by a learning disability.  Forever plagued he was.  Maybe not forever, but for his lifetime, yes, it was plagued.  He was always the kid in trouble.  He was always the kid that did the wrong thing.  He was always the one that took the hard way.  He always made the wrong decisions.  But that doesn't mean he was stupid.  Stupid he was not.  He knew more about how things worked than anyone I've ever met.  He was one of those guys that just "got it" when it came to mechanical things.  If he didn't understand it by just looking at it, he asked questions until he did.  He asked a million questions.  He had to find out how things worked.  I sometimes wonder what he'd be doing now in the digital age.  I know he'd google everything like me.  I know he'd use the internet to do bad stuff.  But the guys who do the wrong things with the internet ultimately know how it all works.  He definitely was a black hat kind of guy.  

So when he died it was shocking, as young deaths always are.  But surprising it wasn't.  But this isn't really a post about how I felt and what I went through.  I'll never get over that one.  No matter how awful my relationship was with my big brother, I'll never get over the loss of him.  In many ways he was like my little brother.  

Now then...

Tonight on "the News" at 11:00, the lead was about a local man who was killed in Iraq, and how the locals were dealing with it.  They had a quote from the deceased father and on and on.  Peace be to their family for sure.  I hate stories like that.  But it reminded me of when my brother died, (i don't say "passed" like to make it sound less emphatic, the dude died, he didn't pass).  Jim died sometime in the night, late as I remember, like after midnight, before dawn.  I don't really remember.  I only remember that it was on Saint Patrick's day and that the coroner showed up at our house before I was awake.  Let me rephrase that.  I had closed the bar (working not drinking) the night before, and my mom woke me up in my bed screaming and crying.  Might've been 11:00am or 7:30, I don't really remember.  But soon thereafter, the coroner and a cop showed up to tell us the details and to schedule a time for my folks to come and view the body...a formality to identify the body.  

Anyways, It was that night, after a million phone calls from friends, neighbors, work associates, and people we hadn't heard from in years had called.  The 11:00 news came on, and Jim was the third or fourth story.  I was watching because back then I usually watched it when I was home.  They read the story and mispronounced our last name (of course), then mentioned that when contacted, my Dad had no comment.  What a shitty night.  And it was St. Pat's and I should've been at the bar making my biggest tips of the year.  And, believe it or not, I was going in to work, but my boss talked me out of it. 

There's no real resolve to this post tonight.  I was just reminded of the day when I heard about the local young man dying and it was the lead story.  I'm so sorry for his parents.  I've watched parents grieve.  I can't imagine it.

Hug your kids.... 

CELEBRITY APPRENTICE

Okay, I know that so called reality shows are not exactly about reality.  And I've had my times with many of these shows.  Usually I'm "all in" for a season or two or maybe every other season for a few years.  I've loved The Real World and Survivor and whatever that Ozzy Ozbourne show was called.  I really liked The Mole but didn't really enjoy The Celebrity Mole so much.  I've like some seasons of The Apprentice with Donald Trump but I have LOVED each season of Celebrity Apprentice.  I don't know what it is.  That show makes me smile and giggle.  Trump is so damned over the top at times, but seeing celebrities in these situations, using their famous contacts and doing a lot of marketing just makes me smile.  This season, with Brett Michaels and Cindy Lauper there, it's a total hoot.  And if Brett doesn't win the whole thing, well, then Mr. Trump is as stupid as he looks.  I mean, yes, Brett Michaels was the lead singer of Poison, who was a big part of my teenage years.  But he's been mostly irrelevent for a decade if not more.  But he has remained true to music (his music sucks btw) and to himself.  And he's really skilled at this job on the apprentice.  Anyhoo, if you haven't checked it out yet, give it a look-see and let me know what you think.  Sunday nights at 9 on NBC. 

IS TODAY TOMORROW?

Sarah asks me this all the time.  "Is today tomorrow?"  I'm not sure what she means.  I always say "yes" though because today is tomorrow.  If it's not, you're dead, and there is no tomorrow.  And today will always be yesterday, though it will always be yesterday even if you die tomorrow.  Follow?  Okay, so if today is tomorrow and today is always yesterday, then is tomorrow the day before yesterday?  And if tomorrow never comes, will it ever be day after tomorrow?  Just kiddin. Of course tomorrow always comes.  It has to.  Even if the Earth exploded, tomorrow would continue to happen, day in, day out.  Yesterdays will always happen too.  That's what I think is so cool about "time" in general:  it always happens.  You can't stop time.  You can't manipulate it, you can't change it.  It has no variables...it is what it is.  And like I said if the Earth blew up and the sun collided with the moon, and if the only thing left of our galaxy was space dust, tomorrow will still happen.  And when tomorrow gets here, today will be yesterday.  

Hootie and the Blowfish had a song called Goodbye and the lyrics started like this...

Tomorrow used to be a day away
Now love is gone and you're into someone far away
I never thought the day would come
When I would see his hand not mine
Holding on to yours because I could not find the time
And now I can't deny
Nothing lasts forever
But I don't wanna leave and see the teardrops in your eyes
I don't wanna live to see the day you say goodbye

Ok, so, tomorrow used to be a day away?  that's a constant, tomorrow will never be more or less than a day away.  He never thought the day would come?  Never?  The day always comes, Darius.  Couldn't find the time?  Nothing lasts forever?  Doesn't want to live?  Good God man.  Whoever wrote this song has some serious high school love going on for someone.  Who talks like that?  Seriously.  

Well, The good news is that tomorrow will be here soon.  Today is almost yesterday and yesterday...well, yesterday...all my troubles seemed so far away.  Now it seems a place to hide away, oh i believe in yesterday.  

BACK TO WORK

Well, no news is good news they say.  My news is that I'm back to work, or actually, will be back to work in another week or so.  I've enjoyed my time off, it's been six months.  I wish I would've traveled a little more in my time off, but no worries, no regrets.  I've been saying that I'll be thankful one day that I got to spend so much time with my kids at these good ages, and the truth is, I'm thankful now. 

But a man has to work, no matter the size of his bank account.  And some men (me included) aren't really destined to be stay at home dads.  If it was some dumb job, or a Mc-Job, I wouldn't go back to work right now.  But to be back in the world of advertising, where I spent several very successful years, is a career move, not a  job.  And it's funny how I waded through several ideas, and interviews and jobs and thoughts about going back to school.  And finally, this opportunity just landed in my lap.  Of course, like anything else, this career move will be for me exactly what I put into it.  I'm charged up, I'm excited.  I feel like I could go through a wall sometime soon.  The worm is definitely turning for me.  Life is good.  And for the first time in very long time, I feel hopeful about the future.  I have a job that I find interesting and challenging, I have money in the bank, I have beautiful kids, my house is being fixed up finally.  Now I might just have to go and replace the Honda and my whole life will be updated.  Here's to hope!  Cheers mate!

WELCOME TO NEW LAYOUT

So, yeah, I've changed the look, blogger and google made me an offer I couldn't refuse, and since I'm a moron when it comes to these things, when the opportunity comes, you take it.  It was free and was simple, and I really like the new looks I can get on this blog.  I need to write more, I need to think more.  Mostly, I just need to blog more.  I hope the new look doesn't scare you off.  I promise it WILL change again soon.  Enjoy the day...

SONG FOR THE DAY

ROCK PAPER SCISSORS LIZARD SPOCK

AVATAR ON DVD

Today is Earth Day, so naturally it was the perfect day to release Avatar on DVD. Wait, what? I'm not sure about the symmetry there, but I'm not really trying to flex my brain muscles on that one tonight.

So I bought Avatar today. Avatar was has a special place in my heart. No, it's not the best story ever. Yes, it was somewhat predictable in spots. Yes, it was visually the best movie I've ever seen. No it wasn't as good in 2-D as it was in 3-D but hey, no shit. Yes I loved it both at the theater and on my couch. It was good to see Jake Sully again. His voice mesmerizes me. The tone of the movie captured my senses like not many films do. It didn't make my cry or even feel like I wanted to cry. But it did make me cheer. It did make me root for the hero and boo at the villain. I really enjoyed all three hours of it. I've seen it four times now. The sights, and the music and the editing of this movie, along with the epic landscapes and incredible effects all combined to make my senses tingle with a feeling of complete satisfaction in a movie-going experience.

I've read many who thought that Avatar was over done, over the top, too many effects, not enough character development, not enough original idea. I have to disagree with all of that. My opinion is that Avatar is very close to movie watching nirvana, a sort of bliss. Why wouldn't we want to see the most incredible thing ever put on celluloid? Why wouldn't I want to watch that? I find it incredible to think that most of what we saw in Avatar doesn't exist in the real world, yet it totally looks like it does. I mean, it's flawless. It's not cartoonish. It's not like seeing a science fiction movie where you can tell where the effects are on the screen. It's not like watching Toy Story. It's an amazing accomplishment in story telling and it's an amazingly interesting movie experience.

My all time favorite movie, ever, is Raising Arizona. That movie is as basic and low-tech as it gets. Funny writing, quirky acting, great characters. Me and a friend I used to work with watched it dozens of times after closing the bar late. I used to have a good solid working number of how many times I'd seen that movie. I think the number was somewhere in the 60's. I lost track over the years how many times I've seen it, but let's say I've seen it 70 times, and that's a real number, not a bullshit number...no exaggeration at all. And now that I own Avatar, I can see watching it dozens of times. Yes, it's twice the length of Raising Arizona and no it won't overtake Raising Arizona as my all time favorite movie. But it will be in my top ten movies of all time. And here's the thing...for me, for my movie taste, there is no question that it's a beautiful, poignant piece, which has transformed movie making forever. This is the picture that has turned the corner of movie making,or perhaps it's turned movie making on it's collective ear. Everyone has opinions about the finished piece of art. Opinions are fair. I like opinions and i believe everyone has their right to their opinions. But what I don't like is when I read that someone is calling Avatar "crap" or something negative. First of all it was one man's dream, his vision to make this movie the way it was made. And the second thing is, to help him make his dream a reality, he enlisted fellow dreamers and fellow artists and fellow technicians to make it happen. And when they figured out they couldn't make something happen on film, they invented a way to do it.   THEY INVENTED IT.  It's a collective dream piece mastered by this industries finest and brightest talents. It was a ten year trek that led them all through dreams and nightmares and visions. I'm sure at times their faith in their work was tested and they questioned themselves many times. But what makes it great is that the hundreds and hundreds of people who gave themselves to the creation of this fine film were rewarded with the biggest box office in history, and with the single most ground breaking (technically speaking here)movies ever. Maybe of all time.

In the end, I want Avatar to get the respect that it deserves. It does deserve that. If you were in an art museum and you saw something you didn't care for, you'd still respect the painter and the style and the effort that was a made.

OPEN WINDOW

What is it that fascinates kids about an open car window? I remember being fascinated by them. Yesterday I watched Sarah (4 yr old) as she waved her hand around outside her window as I drove her to school. I watched her for 3 miles as she just watched her own hand and arm flailing about in the wind. Her head practically laid on her own shoulder while she just watched her arm out there, crooked smile on her face. knucklehead smile. I remember doing it too. Dogs do it, kids do it. It's actually very pleasing if it's not too hot outside and if you're not driving too fast. Once I'm going a certain speed, it's windows-up, I get annoyed. I'm driving with the windows down tomorrow.

VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR? NOPE.

On August first of 1981, I was a ten year old boy about 6 weeks from turning eleven. I have no idea what I was doing on that day but I do know something of significance happened then...MTV was launched at 12:01am and the first video they played was "Video Killed the Radio Star" by the Buggles. It's a catchy tune and today it's a legendary video because it marked the first video on the music channel.

MTV was huge part of my life as a pre-teen and all the way through high school and for years beyond that. I remember reading that MTV only employed people under the age of 30 because they wanted the channel to remain the voice of the young and didn't want it represented by "older" people. When I read that, i was younger than 30. I thought that was a very cool idea. But an interesting thing happened over the years. MTV became a mockery of it's once "all music all the time" theory.

You, dear reader, maybe still watch MTV. I don't. In fact, I don't even know what channel it is on Direct TV, and with like a thousand channels, I don't have the time or the inclination to find it. It's not a very interesting channel anyway, they lost touch with their own musical efforts years ago. They became a reality TV show network. I loved The Real World, especially the first year in New York, and I enjoyed many of the subsequent years in New Orleans and San Francisco. But mostly, the music channel of my youth ceased to be a music channel. I guess it's sad, but maybe not so sad. I kind of wish that MTV wouldv'e aged with me. Instead they decided to pander to the reality show (even though reality had very little to do with most of their shows).

MTV lost it's way. It'll never be the same. I know that they play blocks of music here and there, but it's not the same. Music is the minority on MTV now. MTV was on the verge of taking over the music world with some cool programming like the game show REMOTE CONTROL and the aforementioned REAL WORLD as well as shows like Headbanger's Ball and THE WEEK IN ROCK and YO MTV RAPS and the countdown shows. They had lot's of cool "rockumentary's" and had some great awards shows. But now, it's really an irrelevant channel.

In their song "Video Killed the Radio Star" the Buggles said this, "Video killed the radio star, pictures came and broke your heart". These words were true for a time, but maybe they just seemed true. What actually happened is video changed the radio star. Form over substance became big with such bands as Creed and others. And in the end, the video star killed MTV. The irony is that the very medium by which MTV defined itself was the very thing that devoured and cannibalized it's own existence. So video hurt the radio star, but the radio star survived and moved on to places like I-tunes and Amazon. So in the end, it was the music that prevailed, the true art that was the basis for the channel won out. The music found a way to live. And live it does.

They used to have that slogan "I WANT MY MTV"...well I still want my MTV. I just don't want this MTV. I want what MTV was supposed to be and what it was for two decades...music videos and music news. I want to rush home from school again to see the Michael Jackson Thriller world premier. I want to see Kurt Loder read the music news to me on the tens and fourty-fives. I miss Axl Rose and Kurt Cobain. Mostly, I just miss my MTV.

IT'S CALLED COMMITING TO THE SCENE, ASSHOLE

A few weeks ago, I was flipping through the channels and somewhere on HBO or Showtime, I found the movie Swordfish starring John Travolta and Halle Berry. The movie had already started but i tuned in anyway. Not because it's a good movie, because it's really not a very good movie, but because i knew that the scene where Halle Berry displays her nakedness for the world to see was coming up soon. Hey, sue me, I'm a boy...boys like boobs, and Halle Berry is one of the prettiest, sexiest women in the world, with nice boobs (they were naked). So, I enjoyed the boobs scene and watched the rest of the movie. When I was done thinking about Halle Berry and her "friends" I started thinking about John Travolta's career. What a bad streak of movies he's been in for a long time. And it's not the movies themselves, it's what his presence in them does to them. He makes movies worse. That's right. He's become a bad actor, making bad choices. He gets paid ridiculous amounts of money to be in movies that most actors would pass on. He has lost it. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I was going to say that he's done 2 good movies since Pulp Fiction: Get Shorty and Broken Arrow. But, I can't really stick to that, because while Broken Arrow was sort of entertaining at times, it was in no means a good movie. So, since Pulp Fiction, he's been in one good movie...Get Shorty. That makes Get Shorty the exception that proves the rule. He gave a good performance in that movie, as did all the other actors on that flick. I really like that movie. But Pulp Fiction came out in 1994. That was 16 years ago. Yes, some of his movies were hits and some weren't. And yes, I feel horrible that he lost his son last year, that's a horrible tragedy and my heart goes out to him. And I'm not mad at him, I just think he's lost his way. And there's not much chance of me plunking down any of my money at a movie theater to see any of his crappy movies. Again though, I'm getting ahead of myself.

If you go back further than Pulp Fiction in 1994, and look at ALL of his movies, you start to realize that John Travolta has made mostly all bad movies. And guess what? He made them all worse. And more over, we realize that John Travolta isn't much of an actor. In fact, I'll contend that he's been good or decent in about 4 movies and hes' been in around 60 of them. Here's his IMDB page, scroll down and look through the list. I'm right aren't I?

Travolta was good in Grease, that was a good movie. And he was good in Welcome Back Kotter, playing the quintessential doofus good looking idiot we know as Vinny Barbarino. He was good in the TV movie Boy in a Plastic Bubble. He was good in Pulp Fiction. But the funny thing is that even in Pulp Fiction he wasn't really that good. He was kind of playing himself...a guy who's looks had passed him by, who's career was on the back nine, who was almost out of luck. The role was written for him by Quentin Tarrantino and it would've been a very bad choice for almost any other actor to play Mr. Vincent Vega. But almost every role he's had since has been pretty bad. Yes, he had those talking baby movies, and yes, he was in Saturday Night Fever, but he was also the sequel Staying Alive which sucked ass. But here's the most important thing about his career, and you really have to pay attention to this...he's made a kajillion dollars playing some sort of riff of himself, and that's been bad. He's had a short or long dance in almost every movie, which is weird. He's had bad hair in almost all of his movies, which is odd. He's smoked in many movies and he's not a smoker. And this goes to the acting part of acting, even if you don't smoke in real life, you have to inhale onscreen. If you're playing a smoker and you don't inhale, you look like a puppet with a cigarette dangling out of your little wooden hand. It's called COMMITTING TO A SCENE. Travolta can't commit to a scene. He uses bad voices, bad hair, bad cadence and cliched movements to make it seem as if he's acting. He's terrible. Most of all of his movies, I can't concentrate on them because I'm always thinking "gee, that Travolta got paid $20 million to do this?" It's always Travolta, not the character. Grease was good. Pulp fiction was "ok" but what else? And don't tell me Urban Cowboy, I thought his accent was terrible and never got over the fact that it was Travolta dressed up as a cowboy. Why? Who likes that movie?

In the end, Travolta's the winner here. He's made a king's ransom to go through the motions as a movie star. But being an actor for him, has never really seemed to be that important to him. He missed his calling as a singer, because he really can sing. But as an actor? I ain't buying it. If you're a smoker, you inhale. It's called committing to the scene, asshole.

Computer Issues

Finally got my computer fixed (again) and now all I have to do is reinstall everything i've ever had on here. I've had lots of thoughts about lots of things. I hope to be writing them all down in this here blog soon. Please stay tuned. And I hope you see everything.

SONG FOR THE DAY

IT NEVER ENDS WELL

I've been thinking about baseball quite a bit lately. It happens this time of year, every year. Spring training begins, and every year I get hopeful that this is the year for my Beloved Reds. There's some good vibes coming from the Reds this year. And yes, this is the time of year when every baseball writer writes a column from spring training mentioning something like "this spring, hope springs eternal" or blah blah blah. But baseball is coming full speed. And opening day is a month or 6 weeks away. So it's on my mind. And there's a train of thought in my head about how old baseball players fade away. I see Barry Larkin on MLB TV every night, and he's very good at the commentating gig he's landed on the network, very polished. I remember about ten years ago, he did some play by play in the post season for FOX or whoever had the post season games. And I thought then that Larkin could be an excellent broadcaster. He is very good and very smooth on air. And I've been thinking about the contract that Carl Lindner gave him when he was about 37 years old. Something like $9 million per year for 3 years I think. That's not a great deal for a club that doesn't have really deep pockets. Uncle Carl gave him the deal, I think, more as a tribute to Barry's long service with the Reds more than anything else. And Uncle Carl probably figured that someone else was going to pay Barry that kind of money anyway, so he did the deal and kept Larkin as a Red for the final years of his excellent career. So what I've been thinking about is how it just never ends well for old baseball players. It doesn't. It never does. It probably can be true in football or basketball, but I know more about baseball, so I'll stick with what I know best for this article.

Larkin was injured quite a bit in his final years on the diamond. Shortstop takes it's toll. It's an extremely demanding position. I'm 39 right now, and I know I couldn't have done any of the things Larkin did at 39, no way. Larkin should get into the Hall Of Fame. He was that good. If he doesn't get in, then the Hall is broken. He has the numbers, the awards, the championship, the authority of his position. But baseball players are human. Humans break down. Humans get brittle. And that's what makes Hall of Fame careers so incredible. HOFers are lucky enough to have side stepped any career threatening injuries. Or in Jr. Griffey's case, they are so dominant in the first ten or 12 years of their careers, they get their HOF credentials in early. And Junior is a good topic right about now. He's my age. He graduated the year I did. He's been playing baseball year in and year out for 20 years since he got out of high school. He practically had his legs replaced over the last 6 or 7 years. And he still came back each time, and produced on the ball field at a high level. You can work out and run and take care of yourself and eat right and do all that you can do. But the human body breaks down. And there's no way that most people can go through what these guys go through year in and year out. To play professionally for 20 years is a huge accomplishment. To be productive long past when most players flame out is amazing. Junior is a lucky guy. Science and medicine have worked well on those ol' legs of his. I can't imagine going through what he's gone through. I've had some leg surgeries as well as my back surgery. No way.

So back to Larkin. It never ends well. Look at Barry Bonds. No, let's not. Look at Pokey Reece. Really? Yes really. Pokey was one of the most gifted infielders this game had seen in a long while. He was a magician and had the best hand eye coordination i've ever seen. But what happened? It didn't end well for him. He just fizzeled out. Life got in the way. Personal issues and family and life just didn't conspire to help him get through baseball that long. It happens. Look at Bret Boone, another gifted infielder. When it goes it goes. Was Bret on steroids? Probably, not sure, don't care. But when it goes, it's just gone. And it's not pretty to watch. You see these once gallant ball players, swinging at pitches they shouldn't. Pulling on balls that should be pushed. They can't run like they used to. The fans boo them. I can't imagine doing the things that they have to do every day. I can't. Yet the fans don't care. They boo when they strike out, they boo when the get thrown out or picked off, they call them bums when they walk to their positions. They're old. Old for baseball. Let's put it this way. Say you're an accountant. You've been an accountant for 40 years and you're 60 years old. You kind of feel like you can do your job with your eyes closed. And for many years you could do your job with your eyes closed, and you were good at it. But at a certain point, you reach the peak of your career and then you start losing it little by little. You don't keep up with all the tax codes like you should, you take a few short cuts here and there. And before long, you're an overpaid partner that really can't carry the workload any more. Same with mountain climbers, you train to climb. And climb you do, and finally you climb to the summit and you start down the other side of the mountain. Yet all you've trained for is climbing up. You always strived for the top, the summit was your goal. And then you're climbing down the dark, cold side of the hill. You trip some, gravity pulls you, you roll down the hill a bit. All this happens in a blink. And before you know it, you're in a crevasse, covered in snow, with no rope and no communication. And what do you do about it? You trained to climb, not to get out of a freaking crevasse. And that's the way it goes with baseball players. It's tough to watch. See Jim Edmunds flailing around Wrigley Field or Jim Thome coming off the bench for the Dodgers. It happens. The fans want them, the owners want to get one final good season out of their horses, and you know the players don't want to quit. They're baseball players, they don't know anything else. It's not just a job it's a way of life for them. And for those few that are lucky enough to get to the pinnacle of their careers and still flourish for years after that, well those are the lucky ones. Luck does happen. I hate to see the stars of yesteday fading in front of us. It happens though. It happens all the time. So I'm glad to see Barry Larkin doing something he's really good at again. He's not the captain over on MLB TV, at least not yet, but he really could be. And did I mention that Opening Day is a month or 6 weeks away? Can't wait.

THE READER

I love when I see a movie that I know nothing about. With all of the media access points available to us today in papers and magazines and websites and blogs and radio and TV, it's tough to not know anything about movies. So when one comes along that I know nothing about, and I literally have no idea even what the movie is about, and I see it, and it actually turns out to be a good film, man, that's a good feeling. And thank the maker for DVR's. I wouldn't see most of the movies and tv shows that I do if it weren't for the DVR. So a week or two ago I saw "The Reader" on HBO and decided to record it. It sat there for a week or two before I even thought about watching it. I remembered that last year at the Oscars it was nominated for and won some awards. So I taped it, not really expecting much. And I watched it. And I loved it. I was so surprised by that movie. I literally knew nothing about it and had no expectations about it at all. All I can say is that it moved me. The acting was so top notch, it was so real. Kate Winslet deserved the Oscar for her portrayal of Anna Schmitz. Ms. Winslet is a terrific actor, and she's beautiful and she's damn sexy. The movie felt authentic and real. I felt like I was sitting at that dinner table with Michael Berg and his family because of the detail in the actor's costumes, the silverware, the bowls they were eating soup out of. I'm not going to get into any moralistic discussion here about what's right and what's not when i comes to affairs of the heart and when people mix the underage/legal age of affairs. I don't care about that discussion really at all. I do care about the Nazi war crimes trial but that's not what I'm here to write about either. The point of me writing this short little post is that I loved the movie, but moreover, I loved being surprised by such a great piece of art. Cinema is art. It is a collaborative effort of love and creativity and technical magic. The lighting was excellent, the direction was brilliant and the acting was so perfect. Just a great work of art. It wasn't at all the chick flick I thought it was going to be. It wasn't a chick flick at all. Yes, it was part love story, but what's wrong with a love story? One of my favorite movies, The Princess Bride is a love story. When Harry Met Sally is a terrific love story. But The Reader was incredible, it could've won the Best Film Oscar. If you haven't seen it, you should. It has such an unexpected twist in the middle, it's really quite compelling and thought provoking. Rent it, tape it, watch it. You won't be sorry.

SEEN IT 3 TIMES. YOU SHOULD TOO...AT THE THEATER

Jake Sully: The Sky People have sent us a message... that they can take whatever they want. That no one can stop them. Well, we will send them a message. You ride out as fast as the wind can carry you. You tell the other clans to come. Tell them Toruk Makto calls to them! You fly now, with me! My brothers! Sisters! And we will show the Sky People... that they can not take whatever they want! And that this... this is our land!

PITCHERS AND CATCHERS REPORT TOMORROW

Holy Moses. Spring training is about to start. With 2 feet of snow on the ground here in Ohio, it's hard to believe that the Reds are in Arizona, and it's 80 degrees. I sent a picture of my deck covered in snow to my sister who lives in Tempe, and she replied "I hate to rub it in, but its 80 degrees here, and we're all wearing shorts. But yeah, we fry in the summer time." This is kind of like her summer time. They can't really do much when it's 118 degrees in the summer, now can they? Even the pools are empty out there in the middle of summer. Too freaking hot. But I digress. It's baseball time. I caught a little bit of the Hot Stove League on the radio last night, with Marty and Thom Brennamen. Marty's voice alone makes me think baseball. He's been there doing that job my whole life. Nuxhall was there too until he died. I miss the ol' left-hander, he was like everyone's grandpa, and not a bad bone in his body. I met Nuxie one time. I was running a bar in Mt Adams, and Clearchannel (which owns 700 WLW) was directly across the street. We always had sports and music celebs in there. and one day in walks Joe Nuxhall, sits at the bar and orders a Bud Light. We got to chatting for a minute, he knew my Dad, he used to go to our church. And nothing really phenomenal happened, i just got to talk to the guy that i'd heard on the radio so many years of my life. Nuxie was a gentleman and a gentle man. God bless him. I don't even think we talked about baseball.

But baseball is on my mind for sure. I can't wait to see the green grass of the outfield, and the crisp white lines of the infield. And i can't wait to dedicate 3 hours a day, six days a week to listening to people discuss the game of baseball playing out in front of them. And i can't wait to pump my arm in the air and watch as a Joey Votto smash bounces off the left field wall and rolls quickly back to the infield, while two runs score and Votto pulls into second with a stand up double and two ribeye steaks. God I can't wait. Soon...soon...soon.

NOT A CABIN FEVER POST

How many bloggers have typed a "Cabin Fever" post lately? I don't think I'm going to do that, but who knows how this post will end. Rarely do I know where I'm going with this damn blog. Mostly I know what I'm talking about by the end of the rant, not at the beginning. I think maybe that's why I haven't been writing much lately. I haven't really wanted to rant. My "passion-bucket" has been on low lately. Currently, I'm just kind of going through the motions of my life. Being a temporary stay at home dad is really sucking the life out of me. I really need to get out and experience people and the world. I have gotten caught up on lots of movies. I have seen 5 of the 10 Best Picture nominees for the Oscars this year. That's more than I usually see, percentage wise. I understand that the Academy has widened the field for Best Picture nominations from usually 5 (i think) to ten this year. A wise move, as I usually I haven't seen but maybe one of the Best Picture noms. Here's my rundown of what I've seen:

-Avatar-I loved it, saw it three times with Hannah. I love everything about this movie. It's really groundbreaking and is exactly what a best picture nominee should be.

-District 9- This was a weird movie, with weird actors and weird acting but good special effects. I have no idea why it is a best picture nominee though. It doesn't stand a chance.

-The Hurt Locker-Good movie, great acting, intense feel. If it wins, it will not be only because of the movie, but because they are doing a huge marketing campaign to get the votes. it's everywhere on the internet. I don't think you should be allowed to campaign like that. But what do I know?

-Inglorious Basterds-I love Tarantino movies, I always will. And this one had all the classic Tarantino elements...quirky acting, a good story, great dialogue, good actors, good star quality, and was fun to watch. I never thought it was a great movie though. And if this won Best Pic, that would just be an insult to Pulp Fiction.

-Up-Best kid movie of the year. I've seen it 5 or 6 times. Could be a dark horse.

-the others-

-An Education-never heard of it

-Precious-small film, lots of women in it...not interested

-A Serious Man-no clue

-Up in the Air-i keep trying to see this and hope i do before the Oscars. George Clooney again knocks it out of the park, and apparently its a really good watch.

-Blind Side-heard great things about this one, and Sandra Bullock is a hottie. Will wait for video.

And so I guess in the end, Avatar wins it. Avatar should win it.

And back to my post, which isn't about Cabin Fever....
I joined the Aquarium, which is a steal, if you plan on going more than one time per year, it pays for itself. It's equal to about one and a half times a single admission. Girls love it, and it never gets old. Plus, it's right by the Party Source, which has wine and booze. What's not to love? Then I joined the Cincinnati Museum Center. This is a killer day for the kids and myself. Four hours is minimum, but 7 hours could happen very easily. Better to eat before you go. And I got our season passes for Kings Island again this year, which we love. And we have our Zoo pass too. So I've got things to do every weekend. We've painted pottery and gone shopping. So, it's not like i've been sitting around. But the life that i need to write the things that i want to write isn't happening. Even now as i sit here at my kitchen table, i can barely concentrate because of the noise of Aloha Scooby Doo in the back ground.

But I'm close on work. Don't want to jinx it, but I'm close. And when I get back to the grind, and when there doesn't feel like there's enough time in the day, and when I feel like I'm running through the weeds with my hair on fire, I will remind myself that when I was a temporary stay at home dad, the days were long, too long in fact. And i will remember that the writers block that came from boredom was incredibly thick. I could wear this boredom like a warm down blanket. And I'll remember that it was a blessing to drive Hannah to school and to stay home with Sarah. And before you start rolling your eyes about how bad I have it, please spare me. It's just life. Meanwhile, I have some time to write a little bit about baseball. So that's what I'm going to do now. Pitchers and catchers report tomorrow!!! thank the maker.

IF I WERE PRESIDENT

If I were President of the United States, I would outlaw winter. And cold. And snow. Think how many jobs we could create by getting rid of winter! There would be millions and millions of Americans who would work these super turbine facilities located along the border states of the country. No cold air would be allowed in and no warm air allowed out. I'm not kidding. How many jobs would be created in the tech sector with science guys trying to invent year round summer? Shit man, it's not like they'd have a choice. I'm the President, I say no more winter...you're the geeks that invent shit, make it happen (make it so (Star Trek)). Then there'd be all the airplanes that would have to be modified to burn fuel on top of the plane to keep the cold air from sneaking in from above. There'd a ton of jobs there. And then, there'd be no planes sitting around, they'd all have to be up in the air at all times...all the pilots would have jobs again! we'd be consuming quadruple the amount of fuel as prior to my no winter edict. So this whole no winter thing would actually help stabilize the fuel market, so the price of gas would go back down to like a buck fifty, right? And if gas goes down, spending goes up by the american consumer, right? And if spending goes back up, as gas goes down, the big gas hog cars and trucks are being sold all hot and heavy again, so I've saved the auto industry too huh? I'm the freakin MAN! And with all the people moving to the border states, the housing market goes through the roof, the new and existing home sales soar like it's 1999 all over again. So, yeah, I'll put a few TV Weathermen out of work, but those guys are all assholes anyhow, so SCREW EM! I can't think of one reason why the President shouldn't do this plan. He can even say he thought of it. I don't really care, because then i'll sue him for a hundred bazillion dollars for stealing my intellectual property. He'll be impeached, disbarred, embarrassed, divorced (hello Mz Obama...ooh la la). But as long as he gives the order before he's kicked to the curb, the no winter law is a law. I should go into politics. this shit is easy. NEXT!?!!?

HI, IT'S ME. THE BLOGGER THAT DOESN'T BLOG

Hi, hello, welcome. Yeah, so maybe you've been wondering where I've been? Maybe you've checked in just to see the same thing posted every day for a straight month now? Sorry bout that. I just haven't felt up to writing. Actually, i've written a little here and there, just uninspired to finish anything. Work (or lack thereof) and life and the winter has me feeling a little blue and like i said, uninspired. Whaddya gonna do huh? And I don't really have too much to talk about tonight, but I promised a friend and told another friend that I would write tonight, so here I am. Let me dust off the keys here...spray a little windex on my screen....squirt a little WD-40 on my laptop hinges...there we go, good as new. Now then...

If you've read my stuff, i've told you before, my theory about me being the human caesura, that maybe my whole life is just a pregnant pause, since it's possible that my soul did something really evil or great in a former life...this life maybe the breather my soul needed. Could be, just thinking here.

American Idol is good this year. I usually take a season off every other season. I didn't watch last season with Freaky Adam Lambert. I just don't get that guy. But this season really seems to have made me smile a ton more than i remember, and Ellen hasn't even started. Ellen makes me smile. I really enjoyed Neil Patrick Harris (Doogie Howser MD) as guest judge tonight and I think he should replace Simon Cowell next year. He's funny, he's got talent, he's got the resume. He's got a ton of attitude, and he's just cool. He's got my vote. The show doesn't need another Simon, they just need a big personality, Doogie's got that. And who was that other guest judge? The Jonas Brother's dog or something? That mut said like 3 words the whole show. Shouldn't you have to have done SOMETHING to be a guest judge? come on! This is American Idol, not the sixth grade Christmas Show. Bad call on the Jonas mutt.

Have you seen Avatar yet? I've seen it twice. I'm going again. The story is quite predictable, and the writing is very subpar, but visually it's the most amazing thing i've seen in a theater. It's historic for what it's done for filmmaking. All I can say about what i experienced there is HOLY SHIT! If you haven't gone, go. It won't be the same on TV on DVD or whatever. See it at the theater IN 3-D!!!!

I saw Public Enemies with Johnny Depp. I have to admit, i was disappointed. I love Depp, I think he's a fine fine actor, but for me, the movie was just kinda blah. No offense. I liked the girl though...the French girl.

Back later...talk amongst yourselves...

SONG FOR THE DAY

MEMORIES: BLUE CAMARO

No, I never owned a blue camaro, or any camaro for that matter. Nor would I ever own a camaro. But I was talking (chatting on FB, nobody talks anymore, talking is so five minutes ago), talking with an old friend lastnight, she was a high school girlfriend. And no, this is nothing sinister or anything. We got caught up a few years ago on some group email and we've stayed in touch, vaguely. That is to say that i talked to her on the phone about 3 years ago, just the one time, and we've exchanged some emails every couple of months. She's happily married for a long time now, and she actually helped me rent my old house, since that's the sort of world she works in...rental property. Anyhow, i was on FB snooping at someone's pictures. SIDEBAR-- Ok, I criticize Facebook all the time. I do. But I look at it every night. It's fascinating to see names and then pictures of people i haven't seen nor heard about in 20 years or more. I've never typed a word into FB, just put pics of my girls and looked at other people's pics. It's like an addiction. Some people play games or poker, and hey thats cool. And Kelli, thats her name, Kelli says its relaxing after a long day at the office to come home and "grease some mobsters" on Mafia Wars. Hey man, i dig it. Not going to criticize that. But I find it interesting that some people need to write the stupidest, most mundane details about their life, or their day and push it out to all the people that are their "Friends". Who cares if you're having a good day, or your going shopping? Not me...shut the hell up. But anyhoo, i digress.

So in chatting with Kelli, we remembered a time when i got beat up by some assholes in a blue camaro, in my own front yard. Here's the breakdown... Kelli was driving us because she had a corvette, and all corvette people must drive wherever they go, it's a rule or something in the "Corvette People Handbook". It actually is a rule, I've read it. So there we were, she driving me home, and I couldn't remember where we had been, she thinks it was a party, but who knows, and more importantly..irrelevent. So this group of guys in the blue camaro are like driving up on her side and ogling her, she's oblivioius as all hot chicks should be, which i find refreshing. So then, they pull up on my side and they're giving me the badass "what the hell are you doing with her" looks. and I don't know what to do, our windows are up, so I just sort of gesture, like I'm with her, you're not. I raised my hands up and and kind of presented her, as if to say "Look, she's here with me". And the light turned green and we went straight and they turned right. But then they circled around and caught up to us. We said our goodnights in my parents driveway, kissed and I hopped out of the car. The driver of the blue camaro stopped in the street. He rolled down his window and asked why i flipped them off. I started walking toward the street saying "I didn't flip you off" at the same time putting my pack of cigarettes into my back pocket. I heard a voice from the back seat say "he's got a knife" and I quickly held up my smokes to show them, but it was too late. All four jumped out of the car in a flash and at first I thought I could out run them, but I was a little drunk I guess and they were close, and they'd had the jump on me, I was more shocked than anything. One had an aluminum baseball bat, one had brass knuckles and the other two I never saw if they had anything. I made it to my neighbors yard before the bat hit me in the ribs, and down I went. I immediatley curled into a ball and tried to protect my head from getting bashed in. Kelli stayed in the car blowing her horn. They kicked me a little, punched me a little and hit me with the bat one more time. And then they started to go away. It was all over in about a minute.

As they were walking away, I heard one of them say "that's how you jump somebody!" and I immediately said "There's fucking FOUR of you!" and they just drove away. Kelli got out and we went into my parents house and called the cops. The cops came and filled out a report and we never heard another thing about it. Assholes.

And so that's the story of me getting jumped in my driveway. But in our chat last night, Kelli said the strangest thing. She said that she still has nightmares about that night. I was kind of surprised that she said that. I even asked her "still?" and she said yes. It's kind of sweet in a way, no? I don't have nightmares about it, and I don't think I ever really did. But maybe it was more scarring for her watching it than it was for me actually going through it. When it was over, it was over. I survived but maybe she had that feeling of helplessness, of not being able to stop something that was happening in front of her eyes. I agree that that is a terrible feeling.

I don't know how Kelli really "is" these days. She seems to have a good life, and I hope she does. Her kids seem well, and her marriage seems strong. But I realize that each of us has our own struggles, our own demons, our own things that wake us up in the middle of the night. I cared for her a million years ago, and I still do actually, but not in the way that I did back then. I care for her soul, for her well being, for her peace. There's been alot of shit that we've had to deal with in the the twenty years or so since we were boyfriend and girlfriend. The world is a funny place. The world is a strange place. Life is hard, no matter how things appear on the outside. We all have those demons and we all have our own ways of dealing with them. And what I've realized through our chat, and through this memory of the guys in the blue camaro is that memories are who we are, not just who we were or what we did. They are the things that make us, that create us, that bind our physical and mental worlds so that we can build upon those things. And in the end, that's who we are. We are the sum total of all of our parts. And even though there've been plenty of terrible things in my life, in Kelli's life, in you dear reader's life, we should always try to remember the things that stand out, to make them worth the pain and the suffering. Me getting jumped in my front yard was not that big a deal to me, but seems as though it was a bigger deal to Kelli. It's funny how the same incident between two people manifests itself so differently in each of our minds.

Today, I like the story of me getting jumped by those assholes in the blue camaro. I like that I survived, I like that I feel stronger knowing that I survived. I like that it is a part of me. And knowing that it's part of my past, realizing that it has affected me in life, which means that it's a part of my future too. I hope Kelli never has another nightmare on account of me. But if she does, if you do Kelli, know I'm just fine. I survived that night, we survived. They could've killed me, and you too. But they didn't and we're stronger because of it.

Have I mentioned that I'd never own a camaro? Those guys were cheesy, trashy, camaro driving hoods. They're probably dead or in jail. I hope that that night affected them too. But since I feel superior to them, I actually can't believe it did much for them. Anyhow, I don't wish them ill, I'm just glad they didn't finish the job on me or Kelli that night. Assholes.

SONG FOR THE DAY

IRON MAN 2

I loved Iron Man, and I swear I love Iron Man 2 sight unseen. It looks really cool. If you want a sneak peak, here you go.

CHARLIE THE WEEPING WILLOW

I remember as a kid, we lived in a pink house. It was the first house I ever lived in. In the 70's, pink houses were not that uncommon. I suppose it wasn't called pink, but maybe it was called Salmon. But either way, it was my first house. It had 3 bedrooms, I shared a bedroom with my brother, we had a trundle bed. Amy had her own room and Mom and Dad had the other. It was a small house, but to this day, I think it was a cool house. The back windows had those louvered windows that you cranked open and the deck over looking the back yard was actually positioned over the patio because downstairs was a walkout. I hardly remember the kitchen but I remember the basement. The basement was one of those that probably only kids can appreciate to it's maximum potential. It was a finished basement, probably though, you'd call it mostly finished. The laundry room was down there, and the storage area was down there, and there was one room that was finished, I think we used it as storage, and then there was sort of an all purpose room. I remember wood paneling and 70's type decor. The walkout to the patio was so cool as a kid. My Pop had setup a small above ground swimming pool on the patio. In those days, they weren't blowup pools, they had aluminum sides and liners and a ladder to climb into it. I used to stand on the deck above it and dream about jumping into the pool below. I think my brother actually did it a few times, but he was 4 years older, and definitely was crazy. But I never did it. The backyard was all hill. I remember it as long, and steep and being great for sledding. It was a terrific hill. And my dog Duffy loved to run the hill by the fence. His doghouse was on the side of the hill on a flat spot, and I can remember my Pop using actual roofing shingles to redo his roof on that doghouse. I also remember it getting painted every year. Nowadays, you go to Wal-Mart and buy a doghouse I guess. But that was Duffy's home, and my home. I remember one time we came home from church and an opossum had gotten into our garage. I thought it was a baby elephant and thought we should keep it. My Pop ran it off with a spade. That house was the first place I ever called home. I really loved that house. But when my little sister Abby came along, it proved itself to be just too damn small for a family of six, so we moved a few miles away to a bigger, better house.

And that next house was the house that I lived in through high school My parents added on to the back of the new house a few years later, and it became a terrific place to live too. But I'll always remember my first home.

Today, I had a little time to spare on my way to my Mom's condo, and I decided that since I was already in Hamilton, I would go check out the old neighborhood, the one I moved away from in Kindergarten. So the old house was there, it was a little more run down than I would have liked to have seen it, as was the neighborhood itself. But time takes it's toll on everything. The house,which I hadn't seen in years, looked old. There was a FOR SALE sign in the front yard, and too many cars and trucks in the driveway. The trees were overgrown and the roof needs to be replaced. But hey, it's still standing. I drove around the circular street and saw that behind our friends house about eight or ten houses away, they had developed that area and built new houses there. Me and my Pop had buried my cat Billy Bong back there when I was five years old. Ol' Billy Bong had surely been bull dozed years ago. And I started remembering the names of some of the neighbors there, from way back when. And I decided to drive one street over, behind the old house to see the view from there. And I saw it. They'd replaced those old louvered windows with typical storm type windows, and the backyard was much smaller than I remembered it. There was still a swing set at the bottom of the hill where ours had been thirty some years ago. But as I sat there, thinking about the times we'd sledded down that hill, and swam in our goofy little pool on our patio, I realized that something wasn't the way it should be. And then it hit me. Our neighbor, on the swing set side, had had a tree...a Weeping Willow, that hung onto our property, over the fence and we used to dance and play under it. We called the tree Charlie. Not sure who named it or why we named it or why we named it Charlie. But Charlie was the Weeping Willow that lived in our neighbor, Stanley Dezarn's yard. That tree, as I remember it, was huge. And it's branches spanned from the sky to the ground below. It was an amazing tree. I remember my Pop remembering that tree, and that we'd named it Charlie, decades later. Poor Charlie is no more. I guess that's the way things go. Charlie lived a good life I'm sure. What Weeping Willow doesn't have a good life?

And so I've been thinking about the old house and Charlie all day now. But what's really sticking in my head is this: Why would we name a tree? Why do kids do things like that? Why to I remember that some thirty five years later? I love that we did that. I love that we named it. That's part of being a kid isn't it. Charlie was part of the kid-universe that was my backyard. Charlie had a role in my life. Charlie was a tree. Charlie was a huge, magnificent tree. And I remember that tree, thirty five years later. How many trees do we name? How often in life do we take an inanimate object and make it a part of our personal history? When my sister Amy reads this, she'll smile and think I'm crazy, but she'll remember Charlie too. I told you earlier that I don't really remember the kitchen in that house, but I do remember the tree in our neighbors yard. How interesting. I think maybe we all need pieces of our life to resonate like Charlie does for me. Charlie was there for years prior to my existence and he was there for years after. He may have outlived ol' Stanley Dezarn but he didn't outlive me. That's a good thing because now i'm here telling you, my faithful reader about him. Charlie was a good tree. I miss him now that I'm thinking about him. He's kind of like Mr Snuffleupaguss on Sesame Street, no? So one of my best friends till I moved out of Southern Hills was a tree. A huge, beautiful, mature tree. And his name was Charlie the Weeping Willow.

SONG FOR THE DAY

SONG FOR THE DAY

STRAWBERRY FIELDS

On Tuesday, it will mark the 29^th anniversary of John Lennon’s murder. Twenty nine years man. That’s a long time in life, but I guess in death that’s really just a drop in the bucket. But murder is murder, and two of the other three Beatles that didn’t get shot that December day in 1980, are still alive. So it’s not really a stretch to think that Lennon would still be alive and still be vital in the world today, had he not been killed that night. I grew up listening to the Beatles and to Lennon and McCartney solo music. My sister Amy had gotten into their music before I did and she turned me and my younger sister Abby on to it. And I so loved it and continue to love it today. The Beatles were such a simple plan…they had great words and perfect harmonies. They had mass appeal and everyone loved them in their time. And people love them to this day. It’s not surprising that the Beatles broke up, I mean, people change, people grow, bands breakup. But the most surprising thing about the Beatles is how all their music seems timeless and relevant to any era. Who would’ve thought that something as simple as I Wanna Hold Your Hand would be known to teenagers of 2009? It’s really remarkable the longevity. And even more remarkable is the idea that the Beatle’s music has made yet another comeback with the Beatles Guitar Hero stuff. Personally, I don’t get those games at all, but I do get that kids love that stuff. I loved Frogger and Ms Pac Man. So I believe that the Beatle’s will be relevant for a long time to come, possibly forever.

The past few times I’ve been to New York City, I made sure to go past the Dakota where Lennon lived with Yoko Ono. Lennon was shot outside that building on that December night in 1980. The building is right next to Central Park, right off of Central Park West where W 72^nd Street collides with it. Great neighborhood, excellent surroundings, great building. Just across the street from the Dakota, is the part of Central Park called Strawberry Fields, where you’ll find a stone and tile mosaic laid into the ground with the word IMAGINE set into the middle of it. This is where New York memorialized Lennon forever. The first time I can remember coming upon it, I was walking up through the park, and I was actually surprised when we got there. And so we stuck around for a little while, not sure why. It’s sort of like being in a cemetery, where you know lot’s of emotions have poured through the air over the years. There’ve been countless tears cried there, and songs sung and hummed and millions of strangers left that little area of the park thinking about the Beatles and about Lennon, trying to remember all the things that they can about Lennon’s assassination. After a few minutes standing there, it got to me too. I remember my breathe feeling heavy and my eyelids feeling like they were having a tough time holding in what they were supposed to be holding in. And I started to think about the assassination itself. And I kept thinking of those Newsreels that we saw where everyone was congregating outside the building, holding candles, singing and crying for John Lennon. People held signs that night and the next night, and burned more candles and held up pictures of John. Standing there, maybe ten years later, in Strawberry Fields, looking down at one of my favorite words in the world, IMAGINE became etched in my brain forever. I mean, I really don’t remember my wedding or my wedding reception, but I remember Strawberry Fields.

John Lennon was a singer, songwriter, visual artist, peace activist, a father and a son. On that dark day in December of 1980, he was shot in the back, four times, by some crazy dude for whatever reason. Lennon was known to be a darkly funny man, with and imagination that is rivaled by only the great poets and philosophers. He was a true Renaissance Man with an insight into his own life that was as original and refreshing as can be imagined, far more than most men of his time. He was part of one of the greatest Rock & Roll groups of all time and was a trailblazer for musicians and artists everywhere across the globe for decades and decades and decades. His words have been memorized and immortalized by children and adults on every continent of this world and will continue to be important to pop culture and to humanity forever. This was a man who stood for peace, love and original thought. He was a man that believed that his words, his thoughts, his actions were important, and that those things could be the catalyst for imagination and serenity for all those that listened to his music, read his words, experienced his art. His children are gifted artists, who will never have the chance to grow old with their father because that dumbass shot him as he was walking into his home.

I never met John Lennon, hell I was ten when he died. I’ve watched countless movies and interviews and back stage type videos of him with or without the Beatles, and I’ve decided that if ever I were to have met him, I probably wouldn’t have liked him, as a guy. He kind of grates on me. But as an artist, as a musician, as a free-thinker, I love the guy. I will always love his music, always love his art, always love his world citizenry. He lived the life that he wanted and I’d bet that if he been given the chance, he wouldn’t change too many things about his shortened life.

Strawberry Fields recognizes and memorializes his life’s work and accomplishments. He was a peaceful man, who in a time of great change and shifting morality saw his way through life, and followed his inner compass to a level of achievement that most of us cannot even begin to conceptualize. He was a star of unequaled greatness and now, twenty-nine years after his death, he is still missed greatly by millions upon millions across the world. Standing at the Imagine mosaic, in the midst of Strawberry Fields, in sight of where Lennon lived and also where he died violently, the emotions that you have about him, the Beatles and about the songs that have been part of your life, come to the surface, and it’s a very powerful moment. Music does that to me in general, but that day, there in the park, was a very powerful, moving, spiritual moment. A moment, that at the time, I didn’t fully comprehend and couldn’t really express in words. I’ve been there three times at least, I think a few more times than that. I’m going back the next time I’m in New York for sure. It’s really a must see, and an experience that should be had by all. We lost John Lennon 29 years ago, but he’ll never be forgotten. Live Big and Imagine.