Nothing In Particular

INK ON MY FINGERS

2012-01-15T20:18:00.000-05:00

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

2012-01-15T20:12:00.000-05:00

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

2011-01-27T18:48:00.000-05:00

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?

2011-01-26T17:46:00.000-05:00

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

2010-06-21T00:12:00.002-04:00

LOST FINALE

2010-06-05T20:07:00.000-04:00

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

2010-05-25T00:03:00.000-04:00

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...

2010-05-09T23:29:00.001-04:00

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

2010-05-02T22:52:00.000-04:00

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?

2010-05-01T19:03:00.000-04:00

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

2010-05-01T16:31:00.001-04:00

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

2010-05-01T16:08:00.000-04:00

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

2010-05-01T15:07:00.000-04:00

ROCK PAPER SCISSORS LIZARD SPOCK

2010-04-30T22:35:00.003-04:00

AVATAR ON DVD

2010-04-22T22:58:00.003-04:00

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

2010-04-21T23:06:00.002-04:00

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.

2010-04-13T14:18:00.004-04:00

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

2010-04-08T21:27:00.006-04:00

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

2010-03-23T14:23:00.002-04:00

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

2010-03-01T00:16:00.000-05:00

IT NEVER ENDS WELL

2010-02-28T22:45:00.004-05:00

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

2010-02-28T22:25:00.002-05:00

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

2010-02-19T20:04:00.000-05:00

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

2010-02-17T12:57:00.004-05:00

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

2010-02-17T12:07:00.002-05:00

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

2010-01-27T22:39:00.003-05:00

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

2010-01-27T21:47:00.002-05:00

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

2009-12-21T00:56:00.001-05:00

MEMORIES: BLUE CAMARO

2009-12-19T22:09:00.003-05:00

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

2009-12-19T10:08:00.001-05:00

IRON MAN 2

2009-12-16T23:52:00.001-05:00

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

2009-12-15T23:08:00.002-05:00

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

2009-12-09T21:22:00.001-05:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-12-08T00:20:00.000-05:00

STRAWBERRY FIELDS

2009-12-06T23:56:00.001-05:00

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.

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-12-06T20:55:00.001-05:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-12-04T01:28:00.001-05:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-11-28T10:25:00.003-05:00

ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS

2009-11-27T23:20:00.002-05:00

You ever have one of those moments where, by the Grace of God, you found yourself very lucky? Or maybe something just worked out for you because of some tiny slight of hands by luck, or by the gods, or by fate? Here's an example: Yesterday I had gotten back from the store, and had some bags in my hand, coming in through the garage, and I stopped at the fridge in the garage to put a few things in there before coming inside with the rest of my things. I was bent over at the knees and waist and in my right hand I still had a few Kroger bags. I was using my left hand to put the bottles on the shelves. And just as I stood up, my new Blackberry slipped out of my jacket pocket and right into one of the bags still in my hand. If the bags hadn't caught the phone, it would've hit the garage floor and shattered into a million tiny pieces. But I lucked out, and it landed in a soft, cozy bag containing shrimp and butter. So by the Grace of God, my phone survived. Seems sort of insignificant huh? We'll see. Now then. Since fate, and luck and predestination and matters of the like are some of my favorite topics, I'll say right here that I do believe in luck, both good and bad. Some things happen for a reason and some don't have any reason at all. I'm not here to explain luck. I take my luck any way I can get it, and I never bite the hand that feeds me. And when bad luck happens to me, I try not to ask why, because when good luck happens, I never ask why and to question only the bad and not the good seems a bit self centered and narcissitic. I have been known to say "I believe we create our own luck" in some overly confident scenarios, but that's not really luck, rather just a cute saying. Wikipedia defines LUCK as this:

Luck or fortuity is a belief in good or bad fortune in life caused by accident or chance which happens beyond a person's control.^[1]^[2]^[3] Luck is significant in everyday life,^[4]^[5] as well as Morality,^[6] Epistemology,^[7]^[8] Business^[9]^[10] and other endeavors.

Luck is pervasive in common speech.^[11] Typical use includes "Good Luck!" to wish a blessing on someone, or describing a misfortune, as in "it was just bad luck." There are many expressions and quotes about Luck.^[12]^[13]

Cultural views of Luck vary from faith to superstition. For example, the Romans believed in the embodiment of Luck as the Goddess Fortuna,^[14] while the atheist Daniel Dennett believes that "luck is mere luck" rather than a property of a person or thing.^[15]

So, I'll take the luck, both good and bad. Good fortune, bad luck, it's all the same. Maybe they're all just accidents that either happened or didn't happen.

A month or two ago, I had just dropped off Sarah at the sitter, when I came to a stop sign, and i was fiddling with my GPS and I just went ahead and pulled through the intersection, slowly. But my mind was on the GPS and not on the road, and just as I got through the intersection, a pickup truck flew past me, waaaay too close. If I had been paying attention at all, I would never have pulled out into that intersection. My spidey senses were not working and it almost cost me dearly. I guess thats good luck.

One time when I was coming home from a party in Oxford, I was riding with my buddy Mark Smith. Smitty was known for his big black Trans Am, and he loved to drive fast. We were on a country road and we were going about 130 mph. It was on a long stretch of highway and it was about 1:30 in the morning. We had Guns N Roses blaring at full blast when some guy decided to pull out of his driveway about a quarter mile ahead of us. I felt the car slow rapidly, but i saw it wasn't going to be in time. Just as I noticed this, we the car started turning to the left, but was still sliding forward. When the speed came down a little, and Mark eased up on the brake, we shot off the road at about a hundred miles an hour, down an embankment about 6 feet, and slid sideways for a hundred feet before coming to a full rest in the middle of a cornfield. the car had spun around once or twice but never flipped, never rolled, never impacted any stationary objects. We were completely unharmed, the car had some busted fenders, but it made it alive too. So, what was that? Good luck? Bad luck? Good fortune resulted from bad luck? or from bad timing?

When I as around ten, my brother had shown me that if you turn a circlular saw upside down, and locked it in the table vice on the work table in the basement, you could use it as a table saw, and slide wood across it. He was much more mechanical than I ever was or ever will be. So I tried to set up the saw when he wasn't around, and somehow I did something wrong, and cut a big gash in my thumb, right through the thumb nail, and the wood shot out of my hands at a million miles per hour and i cut my forearm on the saw. This all happened in about a milisecond. I could've killed myself. I could've died right there. But I didn't.

So, here's where I "think maybe". Maybe life is more about good fortune and bad fortune, more than anyone gives it credit to be so. Maybe life isn't as calculating as we thought it could be. Maybe my life is unlike yours in this capacity. Maybe I have no control, never have. Maybe my existience has just been a continuous bounce from one thing to the next, where things could have gone either way, and for no real rhyme or reason, they outcomes just came as that might. And so twisting through time was I, with no real good luck or bad luck. I picture my life as sort of that cartoon where the guy slips from one cloud, falls to the next cloud, bounces to the next cloud, then lands in a haystack on the ground, then steps in a puddle, and then on a rake which smacks him in the face, and as he stubles, he walks through a stone quarry and gets covered in dust, and while walking out of the dust cloud rubbing his eyes, he misses being hit by a speeding truck my only inches and then takes one more step and slips down through the open manhole cover. That's my life. I think maybe I like it that way. I think at least i keep moving ya know? I think maybe it's better than the guy who doesn't land on a cloud. or maybe more exciting than the guys life that never gets to explore a manhole. maybe more interesting than the guy who never almost gets hit by a truck. I mean, what do those guys have to write about on their blogs? And I also think maybe thats not it at all, but that's ok. It's ok because at least i thought about these things. At best i wrote about these thoughts. And I think maybe I've cause you to think a little after having read all this nonsense. And if I'm the one bumbling through life, time and space, and you're reading about it, what does that make you? Lucky? Unlucky? hmmm. I've always believed that a man makes his own luck....

Good night now.

WINTER IS HERE

2009-11-27T16:12:00.002-05:00

Winter is here. Those are three words that really make my stomach turn. But, the reality is that it is cold out there, Christmas is in about a month, and the days of shorts and t-shirts are gone for about five months. Officially winter begins right before Christmas, but for all intents and purposes, winter is here. So we don't go anywhere without putting on a coat, and we don't play basketball out back much, and we don't lay on the couch without a blanket and we don't walk around even inside, without socks on. College basketball is revving up, and college football is getting down to the wire. The NFL is past it's midseason point and the baseball hot stove activity really hasn't started to heat up yet.

Every year, I try and stay positive, and say that I don't mind winter, that I don't mind the snow. But to be honest, I mind it all. Snow is fun for a day or two. Cold isn't fun at all. Frozen, slippery pavement and treacherous driving is awful. Warming up your car every time you leave totally sucks. And sitting in your car while it warms up sucks even worse.

Leaving work at five o'clock, with an overcoat and gloves and scarf and earmuffs, and getting into your frozen car, and driving home in the cold, dark, exhaust ridden night, that has to be one of the most depressing feelings.

So I shall bundle up lest I freeze. I shall trudge through the muck and step over the puddles, and take the kids to play in the snow when it finally arrives. This is what we do. This is life in Ohio. Why didn't I move to Florida when I was young like I said I was going to? I wouldn't be having these thoughts right now. Such is life.

THANKSGIVING SONG

2009-11-26T14:42:00.000-05:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-11-26T14:28:00.000-05:00

INDIAN STYLE

2009-11-24T23:49:00.002-05:00

I can't sit Indian Style. That's the one thing that I physically can't do. Ever since the hip replacement, I don't dare even try it. That's one position I don't think I'll ever try to make my leg go into. It's weird to think of things I'll never ever do again, but that's one of them. It's not a bad trade-off I guess. I get my leg back to how it's supposed to feel (for the most part) as a 39 year old human, but I won't sit Indian Style, probably ever again. Last summer I ran into Holly, my last girlfriend before I got married, and she said she'd run into my Mom, who told her about my hip replacement. She told me that her Dad had his hips replaced, and that he'd popped them out of the socket at some point. I don't want to do that. That could mess up my whole weekend.

But this has gotten me thinking about things i'll never do again. I remember when my Dad was so sick, his physician came to the hospital and told us his body was shutting down. He said he had eaten his last meal, and that he wouldn't get up again. And he didn't do either of those things ever again. I heard him say, "he's eaten his last meal" and the feeling inside me was the worst feeling I've ever felt. Of course when I heard it, I immediately thought that we needed a second opinion, and that Dad would be fine in a few days. Surely this Doc was a quack. But in the end, he was right, and Dad never got another chance to do anything for the last time. I remember that when Dad first got to the assisted living facility, I had lunch at Applebee's and got some chicken noodle soup to go, to bring to him. And when I presented it to him in his room, I said "i brought you some chicken noodle soup, because I thought you could use something other than hospital food". And his response was simply, "you're kidding". And i thought it was a weird response, and I've kept that with me these last five years since he's been gone. I remember wheeling him out of his room, into the big hallway to a kitchen style table, and him sitting there trying to eat the soup. I'm sure he only had a few bites. I'm sure they were good for him. I'm sure he took one or two more bites than he probably could handle, just because I was there with him, watching him, because he wanted to show his gratitude. And when he said he was finished, he fell asleep in the wheelchair at the table, and we wheeled him back to his bed. The orderlees got him back to his bed. That was the last time he ever had chicken noodle soup. The very last time. I feed my girls chicken noodle soup all the time, and every time I get out a Progresso Soup can, I think about my Dad and the last time he ever had Chicken Noodle Soup. I'm glad I served it to him, and I'm glad he ate some, and I'm glad he was coherent enought to enjoy a few bites of it.

But do you ever think about the last time you'll ever do something? My guess is that none of us think of things like that, unless it's due to a hangover or something alcohol related. "Lord, I'll never drink Jagermeister again" or "Lord, I'll never try to beer bong six beers again". I know I'll never sit indian style again. i know I'll never go a full day without thinking about my hip at least a hundred times. i know I'll never get to start a double play from third base, I know I'll never be the starting pitcher in any kind of baseball related game. I know I'll never do any kind of drugs again. But the world is wide open for everything else.

Wide open. Man, dig it. I have a billion and one opportunities to do something for the last time, and I'm not writing any of them off. I can do all of them for the first and last time. I can try, taste, experience, feel anything I want to for the first or last time for as many days as I have left on this green planet. i know i'll hate some things just as I know I'll love some things. But at least i know that I have the opportunity to do most of those things still. And when the i hear the footsteps of the grim reaper, and I know my time has come to leave this earth, I hope there's not too many things that I wish I hadn't done. I know there will be chicken noodle soup for me and for you and for everyone, to taste finally and forever. But I know my Dad was thankful for the soup I brought him that day. And I'm sure that neither he, nor I ever expected that to be his last. So i guess that knowing that i'll never sit Indian Style is just a cautionay tale, one that reminds me that life is about what we make of it, and not what we wish it could've been, or should've been. Because there's all kinds of things that I haven't tried for the first time, and I don't have any of my valuable time left on God's Green Earth to worry about what I've done for the last time. And by the way, knowing that you've done something for the last time doesn't mean that you're short for this world, it's just something that you can cross off your list, in order to get to the next thing in life. It doesn't have to be a bucket list, but rather, maybe just a to do list. So long Indian Style, hello sitting like a grown up.

A FEW THINGS

2009-11-18T22:10:00.003-05:00

The new Bon Jovi album debuted at #1, which makes me smile. I downloaded the album off of Amazon the day it came out for $3.99. It's not bad either. It's better than the last album. I told my sister this and she said something like "well, maybe that says that it's not a very good album". Of course, Abby is wrong here. If you figure you pay anywhere from $1 to $1.39 per song, if you have 3 songs you like on this album, it pays for itself.

Had a funny conversation with Amy today about Facebook. Her ten year old is on Facebook. We were talking about how a ten year old doesn't really have that much interesting stuff to post on Facebook, or anywhere else. And i got to thinking, most of the people that post on FB don't have much to say either. Theres some categories of people on there. There's the "i'll document the most mundane shit in my life" poster. This chick can't bake cookies or go to her kid's swim meet without mentioning it on FB. Then there's "lonely guy from high school trolling peoples pics" hoping to score with anyone. You know him, he pops up wanting to chat with whoever is online. Be careful ladies, he could be a stalker. Then there's "someone told me to get on here and I have no clue what i'm doing" guy. He has one picture of himself in the photos, maybe one of his kid at the beach on vacation. And every day he's typing questions to everyone like "why do all these game scores keep showing up on my wall?" or "Does anyone know how to get a hold of...." or "This facebook stuff is as addictive as crack". That guy eventually goes away. Then there's "Here's all my information because I think everyone needs to know" girl. She has too many pics, too many "at the game with..." entries and too much information. She probably also has too many pictures, too many albums and too much time on her hands. Careful men, she may be a stalker too. My opinion is that FB should just be for pictures and information. Posting how many miles you drove that day or that you wish it was friday is freaking ridiculous. Pick up the phone and call someone, go to the gym or get a dog. Blah blah blah.

Then there's Abby's birthday yesterday, same day as Sarah's. I haven't gotten her a present yet and I really wish i'd had something for her last night. Although, i did cook her dinner on Saturday and she did drink all my wine. I want to pick her up something cool this weekend in Sedona. Hell, just her knowing that I'm thinking about her should be all the gift she needs. I'm generous. To a fault. I am.

I am so ADHD tonight, i kept walking around my house, from room to room, moving piles of clothes around, trying to put stuff away, trying to pack. It's now 10:30 and the only thing in my suitcase is a book. Man, adult ADHD is a bitch. Maybe I need a beer. MMMMMMMMMMM beer! Good idea.

I already miss baseball. It's gonna be a long winter.

Mens basketball starts now. I'm rooting for Xavier a lot, Kentucky some and always for Miami U. I love Charlie Coles. This is a clip from his press conference from last night when they lost by two to UK on a buzzer beater. Love this guy!

FOURTH BIRTHDAY

2009-11-18T00:03:00.003-05:00

Today Sarah, my four year old, celebrated her birthday. Yesterday she was three, today she is four. She's beautiful of course. She's smarter than hell. And she's pretty tolerant. But she has a taste for the hard stuff...Twix, Kit Kat's, M&M's. She only eats when she wants to and mostly is a happy kid. Her older sister could take a few cues from her. But that's another story for another time. Tonight I'm thinking about Birthdays. Sarah had her birthday party tonight, it was only family. And I watched and helped as she tore through her presents. She loved opening the gifts. She loved blowing out her candles. She never once complained or acted like it wasn't enough or like it was too much. And I'd spent the day running around, picking up gifts and spongebob plates and napkins, and generally hoping that she'd have a great birthday. And I tried to remember any of my birthdays as a kid. I don't remember one of them. Not one. This isn't a sad story but I do have some thoughts.

I remember going to birthday parties as a kid. I remember going to my friend Bobby Zellner's birthday party, we must have been around ten. My Dad dropped me off at Bobby's house, I had a great big present in my arms. He honked the horn and drove home. Bobby lived in the same neighborhood as me, so Dad was just driving a couple streets home. And I remember not wearing a coat because we were going roller skating and I didn'tn think I needed the extra baggage of a coat. So I rang the doorbell, and rang it again. And after ringing it about five or six times, I realized that the party wasn't meeting here, we were supposed to go directly to the skating rink. But Dad had already left. And the walk home was in the cold, in the flurries, with me carrying this big present, and with no coat. I remember crying the whole way, cold and getting colder, with my little hands wrapped around this big ol present. I got home and my folks were truly surprised and I stood over one of the registers letting my hands get warmed up after my painful little walk. And eventually my Dad took me over to the skate rink and came in with me to be sure that that's where everyone was. At home I was more than a little pissed and humiliated, but when I got to the rink, and saw all my friends, I was relieved and happy. I'm sure that I worked up a sweat and had a great time. But what a bummer it was to start the party the way I had.

So i guess that the main thing is that everything worked out for me and that party for Bobby. I'm sure that I had a blast and that my parents felt kind of stupid for misreading the invitation. But all's well that ends well.

And so today, when I reflect back on Sarah's fourth birthday party, I know it was a good one. And she'll most likely not remember it. She got some good gifts but nothing bad happened. I expect that she'll have her Nintendo DS for years to come. Why is it that the only things I remember are because something bad happened? Am I the only one that remembers things this way? I mean, I know that I had a party or get-together with family every year. I know that I always got good gifts. I know that I always had good birthdays. But I can't remember a single one of them. I know that this year the day came and went and nobody, not my kids, my estranged wife, or anyone at work even acknowledged it. I didn't get one present and I didn't even get a cake. I hope that I don't remember that next year. This birthday sucked, actually.

But I was glad that Sarah had a smile on her face tonight. I'm glad that she got to hang out with her cousins and grandparents. I'm glad that she had chocolate smeared on her face when i went to kiss her goodnight. I'm glad that we got to play with her new toys tonight. I'm glad that she got to go to sleep smiling, feeling satisfied with her birthday and all the loot that came with it. Most of all, I'm just glad that she's here, happy, warm, safe and healthy. Maybe that's what I got for my birthday, two months ago. Maybe that's all I wanted for me, for her. Next stop...Christmas.

WHO DEY

2009-11-16T01:00:00.004-05:00

I listened to the Bengals v Steelers game today while I stained my deck. Wow. What a win. My neighbor (Steeler fan) asked afterwards if I was worried during the game. I said no, i never really thought the Bengals were losing control. And they impressed everyone with that win. And look, I would have watched or listened to every game this year no matter what. But how freaking nice has it been to experience this season? We deserve this. We've earned this. Make us proud Bengal fans. Act like you've been there. Show the love, don't get cocky. Between UC, OSU, and the Bengals, we are in the football capital of the world. Love it. Go Bengals!!!!

I'M BACK

2009-11-16T00:50:00.002-05:00

So, I took some time off. I didn't really mean to, but just did. I write this blog mostly for me and a select few, and it's my blog, so if I want to take some time off, i'm gonna do it. But I think about this site all the time. And i always am thinking about writing. I've started and stopped all kinds of things in the past few weeks. But nothing seemed blog-worthy. And i've had a lot on my mind lately. I am officially unemployed, although i still get a check for a little while longer. I have money in the bank so it's not really a sad story. If you know me, you know I absolutely hated my job. So it's a blessing in disguise. I'm going to take some time to figure out my next move. I want to start back to school, and I really should, so that I can receive traing in something that i really want to do. But the only think about school is that I can't work full time, have two kids and go to school. I know I can't. So should I be poor for a few years, and literally start over? Or should I take my time and try to figure out something that really inspires me vocationally? My life is at a crossroads right now. And i'm trying to figure it out. And I will figure it out. So I'm working on that. And I'm working on lot's of things. And I will be here, talking about Nothing In Particular every day that I can. I can't make any promises during vaction, but I am working my way back to being a daily blogger. And now for a peak behind the curtain...it's hard to write every day. It's very hard. And I do have two kids, and being unemployed makes me a full time stay at home dad, and that is a VERY exhausting job. So, if you dear reader, promise to be patient with me, i promise to try and write something for you daily. Live Big. See you tomorrow!

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-11-16T00:48:00.001-05:00

DESERT TRIP

2009-11-16T00:28:00.003-05:00

Thursday will be my 8 year old's first plane ride. In fact, she'll get to take two planes on Thursday, because that's the day that she and I go to Phoenix Arizona for a long weekend to see Aunt Amy and all her family. Hannah and I take off for our getaway at about 4:30 and we'll get into Phoenix around 10:30 Arizona time. That's a pretty long day, especially for Hannah because she has to do a half day at school that morning. But it's going to be a blast. I know we're going on a horseback ride through some trails, I know we're going to Sedona to see the Red Rock Christmas Celebration, and I know we're taking a 4 x 4 Jeep ride through the desert. We're staying at a Resort in Sedona where we'll enjoy some good food, good times and get caught up with the Western part of my family. I hope to go to a Phoenix Suns game if Uncle Nick can score some good tickets and I can't wait to see Katie play soccer. We'll get back late Monday night, and so it'll be a whirlwind mini-vacation. But it'll be worth every minute of travel to create some very special memories. I can't wait to see the desert, I can't wait to see my family. I am looking forward to this trip. I might even get to play golf. Maybe I'll even post some pics.

THE SPILLED MILK CONNUNDRUM

2009-10-31T23:44:00.003-04:00

Today is Halloween. All Hallows Eve. The night for tricks and treats. The night of trick or treating. The night when all the people in my neighborhood dutifully give to my children, all the crap that I say no to them, on a regular basis. The kids love it, I actually do too, and the amount of sugar crap candies in my cupboard is alarming on this night. But I guess that's part of life. My girls can process sugar pretty well, Hannah doesn't get any sugar high, and Sarah is mostly the same way, but she does get a little amped up from the sugar. But Halloween is a superlative kid's holiday and that's the way it should be.

Hannah dressed as a baseball player and Sarah as a witch. We headed out with our friends from up the street and their girls, and both families had their wagons in tow. My wagon had a blanket, a flashlight, a couple of little girl jackets, and an 18 pack of Bud Select. I was like a traveling bar. My other neighbors saw the beer in the wagon and I provided several adult beverages to those in need. And we went out for about 90 minutes. We started to head home when Sarah had broken open a scab on her forearm and was bleeding through her shirt. But I give the little witch credit, she protested the whole way home, in spite of her need of a new shirt, and in spite of her need for a bandage and a half pint of blood.

So we got home and we bandaged the arm as Hannah brought all the candy in from the wagon. You see, the wagon becomes the "dump site" when the candy bags get a little heavy. And so after the bandaging was done, we poured all of the candy on the kitchen table. We categorized the candy into piles or stacks...kit kats, m&m's, snickers, skittles, etc. And most of the table was covered. It was a very successful night, and we seemed to have twice as much candy as we did last year. At this point, I thought it was important to get some "real" food into those little bodies. So I put a pizza in the oven and some chicken nuggets too, and made a can of spaghettios. The girls ate and ate some more. They asked for milk and I obliged, and they started watching some show on the Food Network, where there was a cake making contest, and all the cakes were Halloween inspired. The cakes were actually very cool. And about the time that the girls started getting full, Sarah made a little spill with her milk. And I wiped it up and told her not to do it again or she'd get in big trouble. So five minutes later, she dumped the whole glass and it went all over two chairs, through the crease in the tabel and all over the floor. And yes, I was pissed, but look, the candy was all over the table, there was a cool show on the tv, and it's freakin' Halloween. Plus, she's THREE. So I gave her the heavy voice, but couldn't get too mad at her with her candy eyes and her candy face. So I cleaned up the mess, and she got out of her remaining clothes, and she finished eating and I got her into her PJ's.

Cleaning the floor is not good for my hip, my back or my knees. It's something I really don't do, I leave that to others. So that kind of mess tends to piss me off more than a little. But i held back. Tonight was Halloween. The table was filled with candy, a fun show was on the TV. What could i do? Punish her? No. But seriously, who could I be mad at besides myself? And when I gave her the milk I thought "why are you giving it to her without a lid?" And I gave it to her anyways. And while I was cleaning up this mess, I thought about the saying "don't cry over spilled milk". And I didn't cry, and I didn't make sarah cry about it. But why would I? Why should she? It's freaking MILK! She's freaking THREE! And so I got to thinking...why would anyone cry over spilled milk? Why would milk being spilled make anyone cry? Why would there be an accepted axiom about crying over spilled milk? What makes this euphamism exist? And I don't have an answer because of the wagon earlier (remember the 18 pack of Bud Select?). The wagon has made me so lazy tonight that I don't feel like googling and learning about the entymology of the phrase. But i cannot imagine why there would be a saying about not crying over spilled milk. Why would anyone cry over a spill? Unless they worked at at a gold factory, or an oil refinery. But then why wouldn't the saying be about spilled gold? Or spilled oil?

So the point is, that today is Halloween. The kids loved their night. I enjoyed myself. The milk was a non issue. But the topic of Spilled Milk has me puzzeled still. If you care to indulge yourself in some useless trivial pursuit, you can look into it. If you would rather just go about your lives as if nothing about this blog post is relevant, then I say go for it. In the mean time, happy Halloween. I hope you see everything.

WHAT'S THE MEANING OF LIFE?

2009-10-28T23:25:00.002-04:00

I've always wondered what the meaning of life is. And I guess that's sort of a loaded question. But if you know me, you know that the answers to all of our questions are much less important to me than the questions themselves. But this question, in this day and age, might need some investigation.

Let's do a simple breakdown of the question, or more of a breakdown of the key words in the sentence. First off, there's the word "meaning". "Meaning", as a noun is the message that was intended, or the idea that is intended. As a verb, it's defined as have in mind a purpose or to have as a logical consequence. Let that sink in for a few minutes, we'll get back to it shortly.

The next key word is "Life". The definition that I like is: the experience of being alive; the course of human events and activities. The course of human events and activities...hmmm. I like that.

So, the idea of life meaning something is the idea that the course of human events should have a purpose. That's what I'm getting at. What's our purpose? What's man's purpose? What's your purpose? What's my purpose? I can't speak for your purpose. I can guess on mankind's purpose, and then maybe that will lead me to my purpose. I promise I'm going somewhere with this. Swear to God.

My daughter Sarah will be four in a few weeks. Cute as a button and smart as hell. She loves music, art and Spongebob. She also loves candy, bologna and gravy (though not all at the same time). I wish I knew what makes her tick. I wish I knew what her purpose in life was supposed to be. I'm guessing here mind you, but I think part of her purpose is to give my life purpose. She and her older sister are mostly the only things I care about these days. But I'm a little more focused on this kid than I was on the first. You see, the first kid, to an idiot like me, is generally just one suprise after another. You're always guessing, never knowing what to do, to how the kid will react, what to think about her reactions when they don't go the way you'd thought they were going to go, over thinking, over analyzing, over reacting to most situations. But with the second kid, you know what to expect, you know what to listen for and what to wait for and how to do things better on the first try. I guess on the second kid you just feel like you have more control over the whole situation. So guessing through the first kid makes it easier to understand the next one. And so I think that I can do more for Sarah's development than I did for Hannah's at that age.

So the meaning of life is to help make our kids better than we were? That's a start but it's not the full picture. Maybe the meaning of life is complex. Maybe it's more than what we think it is. Maybe it's searching for ways to leave our mark on the world. Maybe at the end of our lives, if the meaning wasn't completely clear through the journey, then what resonates after our lives is what it should have been. If I don't do one spectacular thing, and if I don't have one thing that becomes my life's work, my life's purpose, then maybe that was the purpose. Maybe it's not just one or two or three things. Maybe when I'm dead at 62, and someone I knew in life takes a look at the life I lived, maybe then they'll see why I was here. My collection of thoughts, my efforts with my kids, the social indentations I made on those I came into contact with over the years, maybe all those things add up to a body of work that when it was going on seemed to be unconnected. But when viewed as a big picture body of work, maybe then my purpose for living will become clear.

The first twenty years of my life can really only be labeled as fun. The next 19 years could be labeled as work. I want the next twenty years to be labeled as interesting. I want to do and say and write things that resonate, that leave an impression. My goal is to be more interesting, to do the things that need to be done, to say the things that might go unsaid, to think the thoughts that no one else will, to ask the questions that need to be asked. I need to philosophize more and question more and act more.

The next twenty years will take me to my late fifties. I intend for those years to be interesting. I intend to take more adventures, and I intend to cut a deeper groove into the soil that I walk upon. If I'm lucky enough to make it to the twenty years after these next twenty, I want them to be more interesting, more wild, more caveman than all of my years prior to those. I want to retire in flames, to age with fierce intensity, to do things and go places no one ever expected of me.

And in the end, when I'm laying there on the slab, and the preacher talks about who I was and what I did, and how I lived, he'll have more to talk about than the fact that I was funny or charming or loved my kids. I may not change the world like Jonas Sark did when he found the cure for Polio, and I may not write a best selling novel like Stephen King did (so many times). But the stories they tell about me when I'm gone should be interesting, and poignant and funny and sad and filled with irony and twists and adventure. I intend to do things that I haven't done. I intend to fulfill my destiny as one who won't soon be forgotten. My life's purpose will be clear. My legacy will be interesting, my rememberances will be storied. And my children will tell stories that begin with "my dad always said" and "i remember when dad took me to..." and "dad loved to do....". And those around them will smile and say "I remember that, your dad was always saying or doing....". I will be remembered. And the meaning of my life will be revealed in the third act. Please stay tuned.

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-10-21T23:52:00.000-04:00

TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY - BIONIC LEG

2009-10-21T23:03:00.002-04:00

So last week, I quietly celebrated the two year anniversary of my hip replacement surgery. If you'd like to see a video of the proceedure, (not my proceedure) you can click here. I have to warn you though, the surgery is tough to look at. Yes, those were hammers they were using. It's not a really delicate surgery. My physical therapist told me that if plastic surgery was like artwork, hip replacement surgery is like wood working, or more like nailing two two by fours together. Nothing really delicate at all. But for the surgery itself, I was unconscious, and they might as well have hit me in the head, because it doesn't matter. Recovery was sort of rushed along. I learned to balance on my good leg. I took a shower at the hospital on day three. It was awkward because the nurse was with me for that. Her specialty was occupational therapy, but it was also to stand next to the shower and make sure i didn't fall out. Weird having some young good looking girl standing outside of the shower like that. She saw me in my boxers, and I'm kinda proud. But I didn't fall and she didn't have to help me up off the floor.

For those of you that knew me at the time, I moved slowly. I didn't do stairs for a while. There was pain, but there was a lot of pain before the surgery. I did a walker for a week or two, then a cane, then i just held onto things a little tightly as i walked. It was rough for a bit, but it seemed to get better quickly. But for two months I was like a baby learning to walk. Normal activities took great concentration. Going to the bathroom was like a well choreographed ballerina. (my hip is aching just thinking about all of this). But, I eventually learned to walk again, and eventually got rid of the cane. The physical therapy was cool because insurance paid for the trainers to come to my house, and the other cool thing was that my nurse made house calls, every day or two. And she looked like Heather Locklear, no kidding. She was gorgeous, like an angel. I looked forward to her visits. She took my 24 stitches out one day, and just because it was her, my beautiful health care angel, i kept from weeping like a baby.

The pain killers were a bit of habit. but when my prescriptions ran out, I never asked for, or had another pill. I can totally see how pain pills become addictive. You start to pre-empt the pain, and before you know it, you're taking a dozen a day, on a regular schedule. Can be scary.

So after year one, I decided to try and get into shape. I'd lost a lot of weight leading up to the surgery but it was time to get my cardio levels where they should be. And i walked and i walked and i walked. Now, two years later, i run some, i walk some. Four miles of walking and running happen at least 3 times per week (most weeks, although for some reason I did take about 2 or 3 weeks off recently). And when i'm on the trails or at the Y on the treadmill, i don't go 60 seconds without thinking about my bionic hip. And yes, I feel it, but it's not like pain. Not like the pain I had before the surgery. I need to be careful, but even if I over do it, it's like a dull ache, not so much pain involved anymore. And if ever I feel like it's not feeling right, I just stop and walk home, or stop and get off the treadmill.

Advil is all I'll take these days. I've had the opportunity to have some of those pain pills since my prescription ran out. But i haven't taken any. So, I'm proud of myself for that. And I'm proud of myself that i can play basketball and do layups. I can't jump nearly as high as I used to be able to, and i can't land on that leg when I do jump. But it's ok, because i couldn't jump at all before the surgery, and I wouldn't consider walking or jogging at that point. So my bionic leg is happy. I'm happy with it. I'd prefer not to have to do it again on the other hip, and there's no indications that i'll need to do that. But if I do have to, I just say bring it on. I've handled one, I can handle another.

Yesterday, at Junle Jim's, I saw an old guy, maybe 75 or so, going through the checkout lane with his wife. And I noticed that just below the hem of his shorts, where his legs should be, he had two prostechtic legs. That's two. TWO. He had no legs from somewhere just above his knees. he walked on them, he lifted grocery bags, he walked out to the car, with no cane, no help, no nothing. I thought of two words...tecnnology, and willpower. good for that old dude. he lost two legs and just said, "well, just give me some replacements doc, I still gotta walk." And walk he did. And walk I did. And walk I do. And I walk and I walk and I walk.

INDIAN SUMMER

2009-10-20T22:50:00.002-04:00

Tonight I played basketball with my neighbor, Riley, who's in the 7th grade. And the kid is GOOD. My girls and a couple of the neighborhood girls bounced on the trampoline for an hour while we hooped. And the weather was perfect and we were able to work up a sweat in no time. Girls and I went for a walk and fed the geese at one of our lakes. I just threw hunks of bagel at the geese, tried to hit them. And aren't geese the dumbest animals alive? They are. Dumb. Anyhow, I'm loving my Indian Summer days this week, hope it lasts. I read that the Farmer's Almanac said that we were in for a cold, snowy winter, but the weather people don't believe it's going to be a bad winter at all. I hope they're right, I don't want a harsh winter. I want a quick, moderate winter. I'll take two good snow storms, some rain, and then nothing else. That's what I want. C'mon springtime... I'm rooting for ya.

POST SEASON BASEBALL

2009-10-20T22:46:00.002-04:00

So I've been watching the MLB playoffs nightly, or as often as they're on. And baseball is absolutely awesome this year. The Yankees are storming their way through and the Phillies look like they're trying to repeat for the World Series champs again this year. And so many games are coming down to the last at-bats. Good pitching, good offense, marquee matchups. This is baseball, and baseball is America. I'm digging the post season and I can't believe more people aren't watching baseball right now. Good times. Yeah, good times.

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-10-20T22:43:00.000-04:00

FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE

2009-10-13T00:07:00.003-04:00

I'm still in my fortress. Still thinking, still writing. Nothing is finished. Nothing will finish itself. That's why it's called Nothing In Particular. It's ok though, it'll all come through at some point. Thanks for checking on me.

UNINSPIRED

2009-10-11T00:11:00.002-04:00

Writers block isn't fun. Especially when i've started so many things and can't finish them. Starting and stopping a story, a thought, a piece of original writing is, to me, like my experience with sleeping is. If I wake up early or if someone wakes me up, I generally can't go back to sleep. So I usually just get up. And if I can't finish something after I've started writing it, I generally generally don't go back and finish it. I don't know why, I guess the moment has passed. Maybe the energy of the story has passed me by and it just doesn't come back. So bare with me while I go through this. I promise to get something good posted soon. And hey, we all deal with stuff in our life. I am dealing with some pretty big stuff right now. Maybe i'll post some about the MLB Playoffs, maybe about the Bengals. Maybe I'll just go dark for another day or two. Either way, I'll have something for you all soon. Use your time wisely.

SPARKY ANDERSON

2009-10-08T22:37:00.003-04:00

Sparky Anderson was the manager of the World Champion Cincinnati Reds in 75 and 76 then won another World Series with the Detroit Tigers in 84. I was 5 in 75 and thought that Sparky was the best manager in the world. I didn't know anything about managers then, he was really all i knew. But he was such a character, he became a part of my life. He'll always be the first manager I've ever known and will always be the greatest manager ever. Today he is 75 and is just as vibrant as he ever was.

I watched a video today of the reunion of that 1984 Tigers Champion team. Sparky was obviously the focus of the video, you can view it here. And it's been 25 years since that team won the WS with Sparky as the manager. Every former player there said that Sparky took such a vibrant interest in their lives on the field and off. It was unanimous that the lessons that Sparky taught in the clubhouse and on the field were not just about baseball but about life. Many of these guys talked about the lessons Sparky gave them in those years have blossomed in their personal off the field lives over the years. And Sparky in his interview was talking about how he managed, he said it wasn't in his arms, or his legs or his ears, but what he saw with his EYES was what told him what to do and how to manage. He was so emotional in his interview that he started to actually cry. And not like a baby, but like a man. Like a man so passionate about his life and career and about baseball and those around him, he was just so moved by the telling of the stories of his wonderful life and career. He was charmed for sure. But it wasn't luck, it wasn't college. It was being able to see the world around him, understanding his place in it, and helping others seee where they fit in to that same world. This is a lifelong baseball guy. And, he was terrible as a player...good glove no bat, they'd said about him. He played one year at the major league level. One year. And he had a 545 winning percentage as a manager. He's a tiny little guy. And yet he was the fearless leader of human giants on the great baseball field of MLB as well as the fearless guide through the lives of those he touched. What a wonderful man. He is one of the most sincere people I think I've ever heard talk. And he has every right to be a cocky sonofabitch. But cocky ain't Sparky. And Sparky ain't cocky.

I always see baseball as, and think of baseball like a metaphor for life. I know that life is a journey. And throughout life, we all need a guide. How lucky those men on the baseball field were to have experienced one of the more qualified guides in life. I believe that if Sparky touched your life, you were lucky. I've never met the man, and I've never been in the same room as him, but he's a shining star in a world that needs more shining stars.

In May of 2005, Sparky's number was retired by the Reds in a pre-game ceremony on the field. I've never gotten to any of those pre-game things in my life. But me and my buddy Mike the War Dog were there. And we heard every word from Sparky, Marty Brennaman and others. As part of the Sparky tribute they gave out pictures of Sparky to all that entered the gates. And try as we might, we couldn't keep our pictures with us. What's a guy supposed to do with a 8 x 12 picture for the duration of a baseball game and the bars afterwards? We got sloppy drunk and stayed at a hotel by the stadium, and even though I had a great time, I'll always regret losing track of that picture of Sparky.

I hope that Sparky lives to be 115 years old and that he can inspire more people as he goes. What a cool dude, what a cool life he's lived. Bless ya' Sparky.

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT

2009-10-06T00:42:00.002-04:00

I have an over active imagination. I take the most remote thoughts in my head and I... well I don't do anything. These ideas seem to develop on their own. Here's an example: I walked on the deck for a nightly smoke, and just as I stepped out there I heard something crack, just off the deck, close to the woodsline. My rational self knows that it was a cat or a rat or a raccoon. But the sound resonates in my mind. And I start thinking about something lurking in the moonlight, behind a tree, and the noise of my footsteps on the deck makes this ghoul turn it's attention to me. And as I sit in my deck chair and fire up my smoke, I imagine that this creature, this hound or dog or wolf or bobcat is crouched, in attack mode, sizing me up. He's looking for my weakness, observing my motions, looking for a good time to attack. And I wonder if mountain lions are smart enough to know when a human is looking at them, and if they're smart enough to know when I turn my head to walk in. It's stalking me. It's taking it's predatory silent steps, every few seconds, not wanting to make another mistake like making another fallen limb go crack in the night. It's shoulders are huanched and its eyes are wide yet trained on me, planning it's instantaneous attack. Wild cats seem to be able to calculate how many steps it's going to take them to pounce on their prey. They watch, ever so closely, and wait for that single opportunity to present itself to them. Will I look away? Is it my imagination? I did hear something, that's a fact. Sticks don't just crack on their own. A house cat doesn't make sticks break like that. A dog would've started barking in the night. A raccoon would've run, a deer would've run. Has to be a predator, has to be a killer. So I sit, and I smoke, never taking my eyes off the woods. I scan left then right, I can't see in the dark night shadows, but I'm certain I've looked right over the killer in the shadows. I know he can see me, smell me, sense my actions are defensive. I crush out my cigarette and hold my beer in one hand as I stand. I know he's thinking that this is his chance, his opportunity to get the jump on me. I'm ten feet from the back door. I turn to walk, but listen as I do. I'm waiting for a sign, waiting for something to crack or creak or to hear footsteps. After one step I look out into the dark wooded area, I see nothing. I take about eight more steps and put my hand on the door handle of the sliding glass door. No sound. This is his chance. I slowly slide the door open just far enough to get my body inside if I turn my shoulders to the side. One foot in, my head in, my shoulders in, I realize that my rear foot is still exposed, still on the deck. I imagine the Mountain Lion leaping over and clearing the deck railing, and as he descends ontop of me, his huge white teeth plunge into my calf, and he drags me back out the partially opened door and mauls me, while eating me alive. But it doesn't happen. I quickly pull my back foot inside the door, and close the door. I'm not scared mind you, my rational side knows the story is far fetched and that there's not a mountain lion for hundreds of miles. But still, the thought lingers for a moment. It could happen right? I do this all the time. No, I don't do anything. My mind does this all the time. I can't stop it, can't turn it off. Maybe this is why I don't sleep much. Who knows? This is one of about ten thousand imagination distractions that I deal with on a daily basis. Why Lord? Why me? I guess it could be worse. Right?

BASEBALL REGULAR SEASON IS OVER

2009-10-05T23:32:00.003-04:00

It's officially over. 162 games. The long, hot, dusty baseball regular season has come to a close. My Reds started well and ended even better. It's no secret that I love baseball and that I love, love, love Reds baseball. It's sad for me each October because Baseball is a mainstay on my TV. Thank God for DVR or I'd rarely watch anything but ballgames. You know, some people collect stamps, some play fantasy sports, some people are avid readers or have kids that play sports in every season. But for me, baseball is a hobby. I don't have to collect anything and I don't have to buy much. Hobby is defined as: An activity or interest pursued outside one's regular occupation and engaged in primarily for pleasure. That's according to Answers.com. It's for pleasure. Baseball pleases me. There's nothing like the feeling of being home during the day and finding a day game being televised from some out of market ballpark. ESPN always would have one or two on during the week. TBS would play the Atlanta games and WGN would air Cubs or White Sox day tilts. So if you work from home like me, you can find a game on in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday on a regular basis. And I love that. I love checking the box scores and reading about the games of the night online. It's a huge interest for me, and it pleases me.

There are 3 times per baseball season that I get sad. Mother's Day in May, Father's Day in June, and the last Reds game in October. Mother's Day on the radio with Marty Brennamen is special because Marty always writes and reads on-air, a poem that he wrote for his mother. It's special because Marty is so genuine, and so brilliant as a broadcaster of sports, that when you hear another side of him come through the radio, well, you just know it's completely heartfelt. You can hear how a grown man feels about the most special person in his life. It's touching. So is it sad? Not really, but it does make me go all sentimental. Then Fathers' Day in June...for me personally is just sad because it's been 5 years since my Pop died, and baseball always reminds me of him. I remember a few years ago Ken Griffey Jr. hit a homerun on Father's Day, and Ken Senior was in the front row. Junior hit that bomb, rounded the bases on those worn out legs of his and went directly from homeplate to the stands and gave his dad a huge hug, still wearing his batting helmet. The Cincinnati Kid. That one made my knees go weak. And then the final game of the year. All the broadcasters do the round of thanks to all the behind the scenes people in production, and they tell us about how hope springs eternal, and then they dissect the season, discussing what worked, what didn't, and what the team will need to overcome in the off season. They leave us with hope and sadness.

I guess the end of the season also means that summer is over, winter is near. Short pants are gradually replaced by jeans and sweaters and jackets. Kids are back in school and and nights seem to begin sometime during dinner each night. And the suntans fade and the leaves begin to change and I'm reminded that life goes on. But the best thing about baseball is that there's always another game, always another season. Hope does spring eternal in baseball. I can't wait for the playoffs to start, and I can't wait for the World Series. I can't wait to hear the hot stove reports on the radio and I can't wait to start reading and hearing about the big off season trades and signings to be announced. Most of all though, I can't wait for spring training to begin. Baseball pleases me and I ain't afraid to admit that. Now it's time for this Reds fan to put away his Reds cap and get out his Yankees cap. Hope spring eternal in Reds-land this year for sure. But it's always nice to have a backup plan. GO YANKS!!

WEEKEND IS HERE

2009-10-02T23:48:00.002-04:00

Time to do something fun. Put up the Halloween decorations, rake some leaves, cut the grass. Play some football in the yard, watch some football. Hopefully the weather holds out and I can take my girlies to the festival. Nothing like a Fall Festival to make me smile. Have a good weekend! I hope you see everything.

WEEKEND PREDICTIONS

2009-10-02T23:23:00.002-04:00

So, any sports that aren't called BASEBALL (the greatest sport in the world) are not my expertise. But since it's on my mind, I thought I would make a few predictions for the weekend.

Miami vs UC. I went to Miami, and have always rooted for them, and I love Miami and the city of Oxford. I feel badly for them, not sure why they have fallen off the map like they have. Miami is 2-14 going back to last year. But UC is going to clobber Miami, 47 - 10.

Bengals vs Browns This Bengals team is all revved up right now. The Browns have lost like 7 in a row going back to last year. The Browns have no offense and the Bengals have a ferocious defense. And Carson Palmer is starting to remember that he's Carson Palmer. Mortal lock...Bengals whip Browns 27-10.

Reds vs Pirates Reds win final two games against the Bucco's.

Ohio State vs Indiana Ohio State hasn't lost to Indiana since 1988. I don't think IU is going to snap that streak in 2009. OSU manhandles IU 44 - 17.

I actually have no idea what i'm talking about on most of this...

LAPTOP BULLSHIT: THE FINAL CHAPTER

2009-10-02T23:15:00.002-04:00

So those assholes at HP finally sent me the other half to my power cord today. Stupid idiots. It took me two freaking months to get my computer fixed, and the one thing that wasn't a problem when we started this whole thing, was the power cord. I just want to move forward. I have been lied to, and let down through this whole process. I'm thankful for my warranty, but i don't think my next computer is going to come from HP. Unless there's a sale...

I'M GONNA SAY TWENTY

2009-10-02T23:11:00.002-04:00

This is 2009. We say two thousand, nine, right? I'm not going to say two thousand, ten. I'm going to say twenty ten, then twenty eleven, and twenty twelve. Not two thousand twelve. We said nineteen ninety nine, right? It's gonna be twenty ten for me. And if you don't like it that way, accept it. I am right and you are wrong. Thanks for playing.

BATMAN MOON

2009-09-29T00:56:00.006-04:00

So the insomniac was just on the deck havin' a smoke. It's almost One AM. This night is cool and crisp with more Autumn in the temperature than I'm used to yet. I'm not complaining. It feels good out there. It seems clear but it's very dark. The winds right now are kind of low down here on the ground, but the sky above told a different story...the winds are fast about a mile up. I looked up at the moon and caught it just as it peaked out of a cluster of dark swirling clouds, but then it disappeared. Then it poked out again and I saw it shining through a black and gray smokey cloud that seemed to be curling around the moon itself. I heard the leaves in the trees bristle in the wind and I noticed I was shivering just a bit. And the orange glow of my cigarette seemed to breathe hard and shine brighter in my fingertips. I took a mouthful of my Budweiser and hit the smoke one last time before I crushed it out. I looked up for the moon one more time while the cigarette smoke blew out of my mouth in a rush and just disappeared into the night winds. This time the moon was nowhere to be seen. But the pale haze that emitted from behind the curling clouds made me think of the beginning of a Batman movie. The colors in the sky were all of the blue-black family and they were all intertwining with each other, and i thought of those mixed colored marbles, kind of like an ice cream swirl, that we all had as kids. And I said aloud, to myself, "Batman Moon". I'm going out again for one more smoke, and one more look. I won't be surprised at all if I see the Bat Signal shining on the clouds. And I'll wonder what fresh hell Commissioner Gordon has come into, with no other choice readily available to him, than to summon the Dark Knight. And then I'll try to sleep. Goodnight Batman Moon...

LAPTOP BULLSHIT DAY 60

2009-09-28T21:44:00.002-04:00

So, this might be surprising to those of you that know me. I actually am no longer mad about my laptop bullshit taking so long. i have decided that i don't matter to this big-ass company that i spent my hard earned money with. Last monday i called and talke to "Ryan" in customer resolution department. He told me he had no record of me speaking with "Maria" the week before. whatever dude, don't make me go to the freaking phone records on you. So anyhow, today i couldn't reach "Ryan", he was on the phone. but, the dude that took the call looked up my order # and told me my cord was on back order but it should be delivered soon and Ryan would call me today. that was around 11am. it's now ten o'clock pm. i'm not waiting by the phone. HP is losing a loyal customer. it didn't have to be like this for us. we used to be strong. i'm over it....i'm over YOU HP. Kiss my ass HP.

MONDAY SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-28T00:09:00.000-04:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-27T16:00:00.001-04:00

INSPIRATION

2009-09-25T23:07:00.004-04:00

Inspiration, according to dictionary.com is: Stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity.

Inspiration. Stimulation. Mental Masturbation. Sounds about right. I've been working a lot this week. Work has my mind tied up all the time this week. Even tonight. I've never been a big fan of this job I have. And like I've said before, I only work here because, well, they offered me the job when I really needed one. And I love the guys I work for and they've been very good to me. But eh, not really inspired to be in this job. But then again, who's really happy out there? For me though, I worry that the uninspired work is taking it's toll on the rest of my mind, my life, my heart. And that's what's inspiring me tonight. Funny. Confusing. Again, I think maybe.

Sometimes I think about the ocean. Not as like the beach or the sand or fish or shells. But more as just a seemingly endless, enormous organic entity. It's unreal to me, the ocean that is, it's vastness, its strength, it's never ending waves. The ocean is unfathomable to me. It's enormousness is undefinable in my mind. I cannot quantify it's size. I cannot come to terms with the amount of water, the depth, the width, the sheer volume of it all. And even though every wave is connected to every other wave, they don't really rely on each other and the waves of the shore off of Maine don't really influence the waves off the shore of the Atlantic side of Florida. But they are influenced by the same force. And that force, that power is unreal to me. I cannot describe that power, i cannot think of it in terms that justify it's awesomeness. The waves that hit the shores, even when the bay is glassy and calm, the waves have to be one of the most powerful forces in all of nature. The ocean is inspiring.

I've visited the Grand Canyon. It was a decade ago, and that week I had the flu. And although I felt rotten and disgusting from head to toe, the incredible sights that I saw from the tops of the cliffs over looking the Grand Canyon were unbelievable and vast. I looked out across this giant hole in the Earth, and to the other side...well, tried to see the other side. And even though I have 20/20 vision, my mind could not understand what I was seeing. It could not interpret the size and scope of the thing in front of me. I saw through the air, across that anti-mountainous region, until i couldn't see anymore. But there was still things out there, my mind just didn't have the experience, or the context to interpret what it was seeing. I couldn't relate to the sheer size of it. And I had the flu. The Grand Canyon was inspiring.

Both of my kids, obviously, have learned to walk, took their first steps, formed their first words. Hannah, after repeated efforts by me, one day just started riding her bike without training wheels, just kind of on her own. Hannah draws and paints. Sarah taught herself to swim underwater at three (i'll take some credit for that actually). Oreo went from a tiny little kitten to a big fat-ass cat. These things are inspiring to me. The grass grows, the flowers bloom then wilt. The birds sing and the bees buzz. These things inspire me. People write books and take adventures and build bridges and houses and sky scrapers. Those people are inspired. School teachers go and teach noisy, smelly little kids all day long, and cops drive around the worst places in the city. And firemen train all their days, for that next time that they get to run into a dangerous fire. And writers write books and painters paint and sculptors sculpt. These people are inspired, and inspire me. But my job, my profession, my vocation...sales...doesn't do a thing to inspire me. The ocean is inspiring. And the waves that hit the shores never will stop, never will go away, never will be silent. Ever. And i sell pencils and paper. I need a new job. I need something that inspires me. I need something that will light a fire under me. I need something that I look forward to, something that I'll enjoy. Maybe I need a preacher. Definitely I need a drink. One of my favorite Counting Crows songs is Raining in Baltimore. And they end the song with these lyrics:

I need a phone call
Maybe I should buy a new car
I can always hear a freight train if I listen real hard
And I wish it was a small world
Because Im lonely for the big towns
Id like to hear a little guitar
I think its time to put the top down.

I think it's time to put the top down for sure.

HOME AGAIN....NO ROOM KEYS REQUIRED

2009-09-24T21:49:00.002-04:00

600 miles this week, it's only Thursday. 2 different hotels in 2 different cities. man I need a new job. I used to think it would be nice to travel some for work. BIGGEST. MISTAKE. EVER. maybe if I took airplanes instead of my car, these trips would be nicer. Traveling kinda sucks. And i don't get to see many of the Reds games because i'm out of market. I'm in Pittsburg or Phillies territory. Oh well. It's good to be back home. It's good to kiss my girlies.

I'D LIKE A CLONE-BURGER WITH CHEESE, PLEASE

2009-09-21T17:17:00.002-04:00

The Los Angeles Dodgers are having a Star Wars promotional night at Dodger Stadium next month. This has to be the best promotion ever. I wish i'd known, not enough lead time to get out there in time. Read this, very cool.

MONDAYS ARE STRESSFUL

2009-09-21T16:56:00.002-04:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-21T12:11:00.000-04:00

CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS

2009-09-21T01:22:00.004-04:00

I took my girlies to see this movie today. i absolutely loved it. the story was good, the characters were good and the animation was very cool. we didn't pay the extra $14 to see it in 3-D and no one cared at all. I loved the movie. it was witty and smart, just enough lesson in it to make it good for kids, and no grown up references that i might've squirmed at. Just good clean family fun and i recommend it to you all...kids or not. This was my favorite kid movie of the year i think. go see it, you'll laugh. hell, i almost cried at one point. and the bonus is that they cast MR T in the role of the cop. bonus when you get MR T in your movie unexpectedly!
41/2 stars out of 5

WHO'S RIGHT? YOU MAKE THE CALL

2009-09-21T01:10:00.003-04:00

About two weeks ago, I was on the elevator in my hotel, riding down to the lobby. I was alone on my ride, but had the phone in my ear, listening to messages. I got to the lobby and i'd moved to directly in front of the doors. The doors opened and there was some bearded yahoo dude standing there looking at me. I started to take a step out the door, and he started to take a step into the elevator. now, he had a big suitcase he was rolling behind him, i had no luggage at the time. So with the blackberry still stuck to my ear, i just stood there. And he took a step back and i left the elevator and passed is wife or daughter or "niece" or whomever she was...i don't judge. And as i walk out of the elevator area i hear him say, "goddanm man, like EXCUSE ME". and his girl laughed and he said something like "glad i got outta his way" saracastically. I kept moving, i was going to dinner across the street, was hankering for some wings and a cold one. But i got to thinking about mr rude bearded guy. And i thought that the rules of etiquette state that the people getting off the elevator were always to get off the elevator before the riders gettin on were to get on. And that seems to make sense. And maybe i'll go ahead and assume that the beard was not the smartest guy, nor was his companion. But it kinda irked me that he had to do the smartass bullshit with me at my expense. I'm right on this one ,right? People getting off have the right of way to those getting on, right?? I'm sure thats right. But the question i still have is why is this dude allowed to roam the halls of my hotel without this knowledge? Isn't there someone there that could take the less traveled travelers aside and get some quick training on the do's and don'ts of hotel life? maybe they should. anyhow, i'm thankful the dude wasn't packing heat and wasn't looking to make a name for himself in the newspapers. He's still an asswipe though. let me know if you disagree...joeschaos@gmail.com

APPARENTLY, IT AIN'T EASY BEIN' GREEN

2009-09-21T00:54:00.004-04:00

It's been pointed out to me that colors may not be consistent from viewers eye to viewers eye. I have no idea about that, I can only see through the peeps I got. But I really like the question at hand, which I haven't really asked yet. So, what does the color green look like to you? How can you describe it to me? What if blue and yellow and red don't look the same to you as they do to me also? My dad used to try and stump me by asking me to describe the Brooklyn Bridge to him without using my hands. That wasn't so hard, just had to use your vocabulary. But this one, this one has me puzzled.

I'm going to say right now that I don't have a clue what the answer to this is except to say that the truth is most likely that the color I see isn't exactly what you see. But I can't really say that about too much more. Color perception might be closely related to the same part of the brain that manages emotions. Logic is probably not a factor in this. But emotion may be.

Does green look the same to all of us? Is it just a fictional image that covers all that's green in our world, no matter what it actually looks like? What does smoke smell like? What about a wet dog, does that smell the same? Maybe raindrops don't feel the same when they run down your arm in a warm summer rain when walking from your car to the grocery store. Maybe all these neurotransmittors that send colors and feel and emotion to our brains is a subjective type of process. Who knows. Why do some people love the taste of tomatoes and others loathe that taste? Could it actually be disgusting to taste a tomato to some people?

It goes hand in hand with the theory of believing that we exist at all. I still haven't found proof. Why couldn't this world be an elaborate detail of some higher power's restless night's dream? Maybe God had some bad pizza, went to bed, and all this is just a dream . It's meant to feel real, to seem real. But how do we know? When will we know? Do we need to know? maybe the world around us is just Nothing In Particular. Maybe this is my dream. Maybe I do exist yet i'm in a coma. Maybe i've been in a coma for twenty years and computers and satellite tv and blackberrys haven't ever been invented. Maybe this is all my dream. Maybe i dreamed this world from another world or another time. Maybe I live like they did on Little House on the Prairie. And maybe this is the futuristic dream i've been having for years. I don't really want to go back to plowing fields and drinking unpurified water. I'd prefer to go on with this dream. And if it is a dream, I still don't know if i can proove that i used to be someone living on that prairie. What prairie? What little house? They may not exist. Or they might. Still searching for input, data, proof. Proof of anything. I experience all my life's experiences but maybe that's what i'm supposed to do in my coma-dream. maybe i'm ready to meet the maker. Maybe i'll never wake up and when i eventually pass on to the next world, this dream will end. and then i'll miss my dream life and miss you all. I hope i never wake up. I hope my coma is bad but stable. I hope Ma and Pa aren't too sad, although if i'm related to them, they're probably overthinking this situation right now, and not knowing that i'm in a better place already. And if I wake up and tell this story, will they have me locked up in a mental ward? I don't want that. Those places are stocked full of germs, especially in the 1800's. But do germs really exist?

Back to green. Maybe green is green but lighter to some and darker to others. Or maybe green is just a name of something that another alien culture might call "plaid". I don't know the answer. But i'm so ejoying this question. more later. Email me if you think your theory is better than mine...joeschaos@gmail.com.

LAPTOP BULLSHIT: DAY 51

2009-09-20T13:13:00.002-04:00

I think Maria lied to me. When I called her last Tuesday in India and asked for them to send me the power cord to my laptop that they'd forgotten to ship to me when they shipped my computer back to me. She lied. "Maria" and I haven't had a long relationship, but you can see how we might be on the rocks before we ever got to really go through the things that people in relationships go through. And if my cord shows up at the house miraculously before i leave for West Virginia tuesday night, all will be forgiven. But how will i ever trust her again? she said 24 to 48 hours. it's been 5 days. i don't know if I can take another relationship built on lies, half-truths and supposition. My heart can't take it. I think about Maria often, what she's doing, who she's talking to, and what she's thinking about. But we can't go on like this. There is no joy. I think the next time I speak to her I will end it for us. And she will have no one to blame but herself. This is her fault.

THIS PICTURE MAKES ME SMILE

2009-09-19T00:29:00.001-04:00

ADAM WEST IS A FOSSIL

2009-09-18T23:43:00.002-04:00

Adam West, who played TV's Batman for years and years turns 81 on Saturday September 19. I knew he was old but good Lord man, I didn't think he was THAT OLD. Anyhoo, happy birthday and yada yada. BLAM! KA-PLOOEY! WHAMMO!

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-18T23:35:00.001-04:00

39 YEARS STRONG...MY WAY

2009-09-17T23:13:00.006-04:00

Regrets, I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention. I did what I had to do, and saw it through without exemption. I planned each chartered course, each careful step along the byway but more, much more than this, I did it My Way. --Frank Sinatra

So the day has come and gone. The 39th anniversary of my birth was yesterday. Thirty nine years man. I actually think that sounds older than 40 sounds. It probably doesn't sound that way to you 40 year olds out there though, huh? Understood. I woke up in a hotel room in Huntington W.Va yesterday, worked till 3:30 and headed home. My drive was good; nice sunny day. Not too hot. I actually am getting pretty good at changing from my suit to my shorts and tennis shoes while i drive down the highway. I have no problem sitting at a traffic light pulling on a pair of cargo shorts. i don't really care if anyone sees anything. boxers are basically just smaller shorts. its not like i'm in a thong, not today anway. and you know what? if i were in a thong, I might be showin off a little bit more. But thats kind of the thing with my life. I have a certain amount of ambiguity when it comes to rules, standards and norms. Oh yeah, one other case of ambiguity...authority. yes i seem to remember i don't really care for authority in general. I've always been more about what I think I should do, rather than what someone else tells me I should do. I don't like to be pushed, and I don't like to be manipulated. I do like to think for myself though. I guess I've always done it my way. I didn't say it was the right way, just my way.

Like it or lump it, this is life. I'm 39 years old. Breathe. I know I'm an adult (cough, bullshit, cough). I just don't feel like an adult. And I'm not even talking about a little bit of the time. I mean yes, there's work and mortgage and bills and garbage night. But most of that really doesn't matter to me at all. I don't care about most of it anymore. No I don't want to be a bum and yes I want to have somewhere to live, as opposed to the sidewalk. But none of it really matters to me. When I'm not at work I usually dress like a kid. I talk and cuss (fucking constantly) like a kid. No one really asks me anymore when I'm going to grow up. I'm just funny Joe, being Joe. Or as I'm thinking of it tonight, acting like it's My Way.

The most important thing to me is my kid's lives and development. i don't take a "my way" attitude to any of their stuff. It's when it comes to the kids that I feel most like a grown-up. I guess that's a good thing. And if the world does have rights and wrongs, then this is one of those rights. And if i'm wrong, then I don't ever wanna be right.

The way it goes for others is not my way. I don't work the way others do. I don't care about what most people do. I want to think my own thoughts, develop my own attitudes and do what I want. I can always handle the repurcusions. If I'm wrong, or my decisions aren't what's best for me, I'll figure it out, and course-correct as needed. I didn't say it was easy or fun being me (although it is somewhat fun), I'm just saying I've gotta be me. And I've done it my way. Happy Birthday to me, and to My Way.

And even though Sinatra made this song his way, I prefer the Elvis in Hawaii version.

LAPTOP BULLSHIT PART THREE..OMG

2009-09-15T14:40:00.002-04:00

Got my laptop back today, for the second time in three weeks. And it's fixed, you remember, they fixed what they broke the last time i sent it to them for other reasons? so, yeah. anyhoo, i was all excited when the Fedex man rang the bell. Opened the box right away and guess what? No freakin power chord. Kinda like an $800 paper weight ya know? Anyhoo, i immediately called "Maria" in India and she's sending me a new chord within 24 to 48 hours. We'll see. Glad to have this ol' computer back, but damn dude, I'm kinda gettin' tired of spinning my freakin wheels. Hope you all enjoy your week, i'll be back in a few days. Enjoy some Queen.

BIRTHDAY COMIN' ROUND

2009-09-15T00:38:00.005-04:00

Yes yes yes, it's that time of year again. The world stops and watches while i turn the calendar to another birthday. Ok, so maybe the world doesn't stop and probably nobody watches and definitely nobody cares. Nevertheless, a birthday week for me, this is. And I haven't really thought much about it, 39 is not a "significant" milestone. But i guess it's a milestone for me, as in i've lived this long, not a bad accomplishment. I had a friend turn 40 recently who had a bit of a time with it, but I convinced her that it's really no big deal, nothing but a number. And the only person that has mentioned my birthday besides my 40 year old friend is my mother. Mom wants to take me out for dinner, which i will gladly comply with...free dinner is free dinner man. Dig it. But my kids haven't said anything so I assume that nothing is in the works. It is now Tuesday and the glorious day is on Thursday. I have to leave town today for a few days, and return on my birthday, but whatever. I say thursday is the 20th anniversary of my 19th birthday. I doubt there will be any parades or parties, and I doubt there will be any fanfare or much by the way of presents, and the day will come and go like so many days of my life have. I don't get hung up on the number, most years I'm still amazed by how long i've lived. So I live. And I breathe. And I am. Happy early birthday, to me. It's just a number.

KANYE WEST

2009-09-14T23:54:00.004-04:00

Ok, so I read about all the Kanye bullshit. He is a rude, racist celebrity that has had more good luck than anyone I can remember. I really like his popular songs, and I've read about him, sounds like an ego maniacal jerk. I even posted one of his songs on September 6th here. What he did to Taylor Swift, who seems like a sweet girl, was completely rude. The MTV video music awards aren't exactly the Emmy's or the Oscars, but it's a well watched TV event and he made himself look stupid, again. But what struck me is that he is exactly what's wrong with urban kids today. They think they can rebel anywhere they want, and do whatever pleases them, then just say they're sorry and expect to be forgiven. Here's the worst part. Kanye always talks about being an artist and a celebrity and that none of us out there in the real world would understand his plight. Well i say that the rules of decorum have nothing or little to do with the size of one's bank account or their celebrity. Tastefulness and tact should always be a common goal. And he's a role model to some. I know, I know, i sound like an old fogey stogey. If he had gone on a rant about the music industry or the ideals of rebellion, i may be able to get behind him, because as you know, I'm the original rebel. But wtf? How do you do that to a kid when she's experiencing what should be one of the best nights of her life? When Elvis shook his hips and rocked his pelvis, he wasn't attacking anyone, he was developing his style, and the trends of the day said it was time. But stealing someones thunder like that? Unacceptable. And what do the kids in 4th 5th and 6th grade think? They think that's the way it should be. And they don't hear his apologies today. All they know is the MTV awards debacle. What's to stop them from grabbing the microphone from their Principal the next time at assembly? Or from standing up in class and going on a rant or threatening the teacher? Handling the responsibilities of fame and fortune and celebrity has to be tough. It has to be. But learning from your mistakes is important too. This isn't the first time that Kanye has gone off script and done stupid things. If I run any awards show, I make sure that if Kanye is in attendance, I put a few big body guards in front of the stage so he doesn't do anything like this again. I mean seriously, Kanye West? Who is he? I can name like three of his songs. Why does he act like he owns the media, like he owns MTV? I don't get it. Hey Kanye, do it for 15 years and we'll talk about it again. But until then, please refrain from stomping all over some sweet kid's most magical night. And oh by the way, Kanye, you're an asshole for this.

YOU WANT MUSIC?

2009-09-12T10:03:00.002-04:00

Very cool little site here http://upchucky.com/ . Go to the right hand side and you can choose a jukebox from whatever year you'd like and play the top 20 songs of that year. There are games and other cool stuff too. check it out.

I THINK... MAYBE

2009-09-11T23:44:00.003-04:00

I think maybe a lot. Maybe is one of my most commonly used words. I say maybe because I'm theorizing. I don't make the rules here, I'm just an observer. So sue me if I say maybe. Life is maybe to me. What could be, what could've been. Yeah, maybe. So when maybe comes up, you know it's me. But maybe doesn't mean I'm wishy washy, it just means that I don't have all the answers, I'm just giving you my thoughts, and hopefully, maybe I'm right once in a while. But it's not about being right. It's not about having the answers for me. For me i don't care if I'm right, I just care that I search for the answers to the questions. And if the journey or search becomes the focus then I say maybe it doesn't matter to me who's right. Maybe life is about the questions. What is right anyway? Who says who's right? Maybe life is just maybe. Maybe we're not actually here. Prove to me that we're here. Prove to me that what is believed to be the truth or right, and maybe I'll believe it. I have no idea what I'm talking about half the time, and the other half of the time It's just theory. So maybe most of the time I haven't got a clue but I'm still here. Wondering, and thinking and searching. Maybe.

SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT

2009-09-11T23:43:00.002-04:00

I love this saying, ships that pass in the night. This saying makes my creative side go wild. Ships, as a word, will always have a romantic tone. pass in the night is darkly mysterious. and so i love this saying.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow once wrote...Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

Longfellow was a poet and translator from the 1800's. I don't know much of his work, i've read some of his work, like Paul Revere's Ride and Evangeline. But never thought much about him. Cool name for sure. But the paragraph above is an excellent paragraph. I was going to write about what the phrase ships that pass in the night meant, but i don't think it needs anymore tinkering with.

But the analytical side of me must press on through this thought. Ships that pass in the night, as a phrase, not a quote, could be a cautionary tale. What if we are destined for something, yet the opportunity blows across our bow leaving only a faint scent of what might have been? Missed, an opportunity to fulfill a destiny once headed straight for us. What if this is totally about my life? I'm so A.D.D., I could easily see myself missing the boat, so to speak, missing an opportunity that should've been mine. How would I ever know what i'd missed? Would it be better not to know? How would I handle knowing that i'd missed the chance of a lifetime somewhere out there? The sea is vast, i might never ever sail past that opportunity again. But maybe the journey is what brought me there, in the night, sailing that ship. Maybe I was a ship, searching for a port. And if that port eluded me forever, wouldn't I just keep searching? I would learn from my travels and document the adventures i'd had. Maybe I'm supposed to be that ship in the night. Maybe if I pass one opportunity in the night, I would come to find a greater one. And maybe if I never found the port i was looking for, then the journey would become my destination, my destiny. Maybe there are discoverers and then there are searchers. Maybe I'm meant to be a searcher my whole life. Looking for the truth, searching for answers, developing theories about life and death and love. Maybe my port is the sea forever. Maybe thats my destiny.

So maybe its a cautionary tale if you are not an adventurer or a searcher. But if you are one of those, then perhaps ships that pass in the night are meant to do just that. And the life that we live is one day at a time, one observation at a time, one wave at a time. And maybe its not about what we missed on the way, rather about what we found on our search. I like that. searchers we shall be.

CINCINNATI CYLCONES

2009-09-11T00:42:00.003-04:00

I think I'm going to become a Cyclones fan this year. They won it all last year. I don't really understand hockey, I just tend to go with the flow. I went to a couple of games a few years ago and it's such a fun time. They always run cool specials like Dollar Dog night and dollar beers too. And this promotion looks cool as hell. So since they're the only franchise in Cincinnati with a winning record, I'm going to go ahead and jump on the bandwagon now. ( I do realize that this promotion is over, but I still think it's very cool. )

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-11T00:37:00.004-04:00

SEPTEMBER ELEVENTH

2009-09-09T20:01:00.008-04:00

I hate when I start to see it on the calendar. But, it's that time of year again. The anniversary of September 11, is here. Millions of Americans go through the memories, the pain and the sorrow for what is easily the most tragic happening in our nations history. Each anniversary I go through all the emotions, all the memories, and all of the pain. I didn't know anyone that was there, or that was directly affected by the tragedies in the World Trade Center or the Pentagon, but it's still very painful to remember. It was like an unreal moment. It was surreal and unimaginable that what we all saw on TV was reality for thousands and thousands of Americans. We all saw the ash covered survivors, the people walking the streets of Manhattan, holding pictures of loved ones that they hadn't heard from. I remember the network anchors talking about how all the hospitals were stocked to the gills with doctors and nurses and staff. And that all of the blood banks had gotten an unreal amount of donations. But all of the effort, the personnel, and the blood went unused. Have you ever heard anything sadder than that? Most of the people in the World Trade center never had a chance. And the firemen and police that went in the towers and climbed the stairs to their deaths, never would have imagined that they never had a chance either. I love the stories of determination and dedication of our fire and police and emergency responders that day. I read their stories of heroism and bravery for months after 9-11. I cried and shook my hands at God and prayed more than I'd ever prayed for strangers in my lifetime. What a horrible horrible day in history.

I remember the strength that our country showed in those days and weeks and months later. I've never been more proud of America than I was watching us rededicate ourselves to our country, to the flag and to one another. I'll never forget the memorials and the speeches people gave at them. I'll never forget the World Series that took place that year in New York and Arizona. Yankee stadium became patriot central and that series was one of the best I've ever seen. And the 9th inning heroics the Yanks displayed those two nights in a row were simply unbelievable. Poor B.K. Kim. He deserved better. But the D-Backs won in the end, and they deserved it. The national anthem and God Bless America were tear jerkers for sure. When President Bush threw a perfect strike at the beginning of Game 1, it was probably his best moment of his presidency. Poor George Bush, he wasn't prepared to deal with something as vast and sad as the 9-11 terrorist attacks. None of us were though. Maybe we should have been more prepared.

September 11, 2001 was a sunny day in Ohio. My first daughter Hannah was only six weeks old at the time. That morning I had a job interview with an internet company that was coming to town and the interview was at what would become their new offices in Covington Kentucky, just across the river from downtown Cincinnati. The interview took place in an office building over looking the river. I met with the General Manager for around an hour. At around ten o'clock her boss came in and we spoke briefly. But he was distracted and told us why. He said that a plane had crashed into the Trade Center building. And that was really all he told us, and then he left us alone. Half an hour later the GM and I were walking through the mostly unfurnished office space when we came upon her boss again and he told us that another plane had hit the Trade Center and that it was being called a terrorist attack. He was off to see what he could see on TV from a cafe down the street. I thanked the GM for her time and I went out to my car to drive home. I turned on the radio and heard a national broadcast eminating from New York. I had the radio tuned to a sports talk station at the time. Now, mind you, I had no idea the gravity of the situation. I pictured a couple of 4 seat airplanes crashing into the towers. I had no idea they were big commercial passenger jets that had been hijacked. So I switched the radio from one pre-set station to the next, and it was all the same broadcast. I immediately called home. My wife answered and she started telling me about all that she was seeing on TV and that the first tower had come down. I said "what do you mean come down??" She explained to me exactly what had happened, and how the tower had seemed to turn into dust and fell straight down. I was home in twenty more minutes and sat in front of the T.V. for most of the next day or two. I'm sure most of you have similar stories. I know that I couldn't stop watching it at all. It was horrible to see the people on the streets with pictures of their loved ones. It was horrible to see the footage over and over again. But I couldn't stop watching it. The news had estimated at first that maybe ten or twenty thousand people could be dead in New York. Even though eventually the number came down to just less than three thousand, it could have been so much worse. I watched the candle-lit vigils, saw the war torn streets of the financial district. The stories of no phones and no electricity were outside the realm of possibility for me.

And so it went for weeks. And ground zero continued to smolder and smoke. There were no stories of survivors. No stories of any hope. Magor League baseball resumed after a week or so and that really seemed to lift the spirits of the nation. It seemed like every night the Yankees and the Mets were hosting someone or some group that somehow was connected to the tragedy. And everywhere we looked, we saw American flags and stars and stripes. The nation was strong, we were all together. But the world changed around us. Distrust was high. Terrorism was suspected everywhere, and the anthrax scare made its way through major cities. They found traces of Anthrax in Mayor Giulliani's office and in post offices and government offices. Oh the times they were a changin', and rightfully so. Air traffic eventually began again but the airports became more like military posts, which can really only be a good thing. September 11, 2001 was the end of innocence for this nation.

My Pop was born and raised in the Bronx, New York. Excluding the time he was in the Navy for a couple of years and at Valparaiso Law School after college, he lived in New York until he moved to Ohio when he was around 40. Me and my brother and sisters were lucky enough to go to New York quite often growing up. New York was and is and always will be a wonderful city. I had been to The World Trade Center a few times. Walked by it many times. Got the subway there a few times and had eaten there a couple of times. One of the most amazing restaurants I've ever been to was on the 106th and 107th floors of the North Tower in the WTC, and was called Windows On The World. This restaurant was one of the most respected restaurants in New York and therefore one of the most respected in the world. In 2000, it brought in revenues of $37 million. Thats a big, big number. My Pop took us all there for lunch one day, we had to get dressed up. He wouldn't have been allowed in there without a jacket, nor would I have been. I was probably around 13 at the time. I remember the views from the windows, it was amazing. You could see for miles. You looked down on the tops of the buildings around you. You looked down at Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty seemed like one of those lawn jockeys from there. I even remember what I ate. Remember, this was 25 years ago, and I still remember the lunch I ate there. I wanted a cheeseburger. They didn't have cheeseburgers. But, they did have a "burger in a pocket". I ordered this, sounded close enough. It was a pita pocket, stuffed with loose, ground sirloin with shredded cheese, diced onion, lettuce chiffonade and chopped pickles. When we got our food, I squirted ketchup and yellow mustard down into that pita, and I remember it being absolutely fabulous. Our table was located on the exterior part of the dining room, which made it a table by a window (or table by WINDOWS!), we looked out the windows through the whole meal. The waiter told us that if we hadn't noticed already, the building actually swayed back and forth. It was designed and built to be flexible like that. Structurally, it was supposed to have the give in the steel to pitch back and forth so many feet. Odd but true. And I have no idea what the meal cost for a family of four, but whatever it was, it was worth it. Hell, I remember the non-burger 25 years later. Enough said. I love that memory. I'll always have that memory. If you want to learn more about the restaurant, just type it into google and choose "images". It was an awesome place. Until those fucking bastards knocked the whole damn building down.

I remember feeling very patriotic during Desert Storm. My buddy Mike the War Dog was in the desert at the time. I sent him some care packages. Once or twice I filled an Evian bottle with vodka for him. He got it too. He said he and a few friends got drunk in their tent those nights on my vodka. Glad I could help the morale of a few War Dogs. And the patriotism feeling came and went over the years. Don't get me wrong, I'll always love America and the freedoms she provides to me and my children. But when the world is going well, things like overt patriotism seem to be left more unsaid until Fourth of July and other holidays like that. I have been seeing some patriotic things on TV this week, and in magazines and online. I guess that's what this week leading up to the 9-11 anniversary should be about. And I know that when I think about these experiences I feel extremely patriotic. We will see more and more signs and t-shirts and ball caps that say FDNY NYPD NEVER FORGET. I won't ever forget. And I hope you dear reader will never forget where you were and what you felt and how it affected your life, that day 8 years ago, when you watched the horror on your TV set and read the horrific stories in the paper every day. I know you won't. I'm thinking of all those affected by this bloody tragedy. I thank God that I am an American and that I live here. I appreciate all the priviledge that comes with being an American. And even though the memories are not constant anymore, I will never forget all the images and stories of hope, and faith, and healing that came from the aftermath of 9-11. I will tell these stories to my girls when they are old enough. I will tell their children too.

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-08T00:22:00.001-04:00

LAPTOP BULLSHIT--TAKE TWO

2009-09-08T00:12:00.005-04:00

Tomorrow I send my laptop back to HP for them to fix what they broke when they fixed whatever it was the last time. I hate this. But the warranty is cool, and I have to do it, otherwise its go buy a new laptop soon. So dear reader, I fear that I won't be posting much again for a week to two weeks, but the site will be here. If you haven't read the posts from a couple of months ago, maybe this is a good time to go do that. I swear I'll be back, and I swear I'll miss you. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. I hope you see everything.

SIMPLER TIMES

2009-09-07T23:03:00.006-04:00

I have this burning desire for things to be simple in my life. I understand that life is not simple. Life is what we make it. I want to make my life simpler. Simple doesn't necessarily mean easy and I sure as hell don't wish I was living in The Little House On The Prairie. I love my gadgets, my ipod my laptop my GPS. I just have this feeling that things can be simpler. Remember when you called your boss to take a sick day? They'd just record it and you'd be off for the day. Nowadays we have to go online on the company's intranet, login to the HR site, click the date, the reason for absence, it's submitted to the supervisor, he/she approves it, you are sent a notifier when they approve it, a block is set in your Outlook calendar and it reflects in your company intranet site as having taken a sick day. I realize that somewhere somebody was sold a bill of goods that this was ultimately more efficient than the old way. But where does it stop? Remember when you'd get the phone book out and lookup someones phone number? Nowadays one just types the name of a business into Google and you get their website. And then you scroll down, click on "Contact Us" and then you are given a multitude of ways to get a hold of that business, the last of these options is usually the phone number because God knows, no one wants to be bothered with a phone call. And once you look them up, you can usually find the store hours and the items they sell online and three different ways to order the product and you can sign up to be on their email spam list if you'd like. Can't I just call and ask what time they close and go there? Isn't that efficient? Don't get me wrong, I like to see movie times online and to view my bank account online and pay bills online. But damn, I liked checks and stamps too.

How do we make our lives simpler? I have four email addresses I use frequently. I have a couple more for junk and spam. I have a blackberry and mobile web and I can convert faxes to emails and anything I might need I can find on the web. But what about customer service? What about speaking to someone that speaks my language as a first language? You ever have problems with Direct TV or Cable? That whole process is a nightmare. Great product, but when you have an issue, you're screwed.

Can't gas stations just pump the damn gas for you? Can't grocery stores be more efficient? Why do I have to go through all the damn aisles then take my stuff out of my cart, put them into bags, put the bags back into my cart, take the bags out of my cart and put them into my car, only to get home and take the bags from the car and onto the counter? Can't technology make this simple? Why all the gyration? Can't there be a scanner on my cart, and like a few decent sized bags in the cart already? Why isn't the grocery store like a huge drive-thru? Just make the aisles twice as wide, I'll drive my car through each aisle. That sounds simple enough to me. Or hey, why not put all that stuff on line and someone deliver it to me? That seems simple.

Why is it me that thinks of these things? Can't the phone companies all get together and all use the same damn charger? Shouldn't there be a universal charger for phones, Ipods, stereos etc? Why do I need all these damn chargers? And while I'm at it, why do we need hundreds of different phones and phone companies? We have the technology developing at light speed, why can't they just franchise the damn technology and I can just go to the phone company for all my phone/ internet/TV needs? I like competition, but jeez, can't we just all get along?

The car companies should have been thinking about how to make it simple. Why did GM think they needed to put out the same car with a different name through Chevy, Olds, Saturn and Pontiac? Thats insane. The rule of KISS applies here...Keep It Simple Stupid...KISS. Now look where GM is today. Morons. Nice vision.

I had a good friend in high school named Bobby. Bobby was an interesting guy. He was a terrific soccer player, and got ok grades, and like me, he hated school and never performed schoolastically up to his "potential". He was the most charming guy, he was funny, girls liked him, and he was always asking why about everything. I told him that my parents were taking me to a psychologist once a week because they were worried about why my test scores were top of the heap, yet my performance in school wasn't really up to par. They thought I might need to talk to someone about these matters and that in doing so would help my grades. Wrong. Anyhow, Bobby told his mom, and asked if he could do the same. She said no, they didn't need that, he didn't need that and they were just fine with the way things were with him. But Bobby was a dreamer like me, and he took things too seriously and I just always knew that even though he was kind of a shy guy, that inside, he was wound way too tightly. And after high school, Bobby worked and played soccer in some adult leagues, eventually got married and had baby girl. Before his daughter was a year old, Bobby put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I don't know why he did it, and I suspect no one will ever know the real reason why, or if it really matters. But my guess is that life came at him quickly, and he couldn't cope with it. Life became very complicated as it does for all of us. I believe that Bob needed things to just seem simpler, seem easier, and that he needed life to feel less complicated. I could be wrong, but the idea of everything building in him might have been what sent him over the edge. I miss Bobby.

Why can't I be the guy that delivers potato chips to the gas stations, stocks their shelves, and heads out to the next gas station? Would that simplicity get to me? Would it make me feel too simple? What if I was the guy that goes around and stocks the Coke machines? Seems like good work to me. Do I want things simple or do I just want less stress from life? I don't know what the answer is, but the question is the important part. What makes my life seem so damn complicated? What makes me feel like things need to be simpler? Do they need to be simpler? Do I need a job that has less pressure? A change of scenery? A change in zip code? What if I lived somewhere that had a beach and I could take my girls there every weekend and watch them make sand castles and learn to surf? That would be nice. And it's not that I don't enjoy life because I do. Somehow, I just feel that it could be simpler. Maybe this is all out of my control and life is what it is. I say maybe we all need to turn off the blackberry and forget about email and ignore the 600 channels on my satellite dish. Maybe life would be simpler if I could just stop thinking about this stuff so much. But who would post this garbage on this blog if I didn't? I want life to be simpler but I don't know how. I can't go live with my mom and drive my chevelle all over town. Reason number one is that I haven't had that chevelle in 20 years but reason number two is that you can't go back. Life is complicated. Life is tough. The key I guess, is figuring out how to make it feel less complicated, and seem more simple. How do we do that? I guess by asking the questions, and reconcilling the answers best that we can, filing away the information gathered so that it works for us. Maybe life is one big rationalization. Maybe we need to figure out how to be more rational about the realities in our lives that seem to come at us too quickly. Filing these things away in our brains could help us all. Getting things off the desktop and into the right storage bins may make life feel easier and simpler. I'll never stop asking the questions and trying to see the point in everything, but it's up to me to deal with the answers if ever I get them. Life is not like a box of chocolates, though it's true that you never know what you'll get. Simple may come, easier may never, but how we deal with all of it is infinitely more important than not dealing with it at all.

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-06T08:27:00.001-04:00

SONG FOR THE DAY

2009-09-06T00:13:00.000-04:00

SIGNS

2009-09-06T00:09:00.000-04:00

And the sign says "Long-haired freaky people need not apply"
So I put my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why
He said you look like a fine outstanding young man, I think you'll do
So I took off my hat, I said "Imagine that, huh, me working for you"

SUCCESS

2009-09-05T22:27:00.005-04:00

I've been thinking about success lately. This goddamned economy has made it a tough year or so to feel successful money-wise. I know people that make an insane amount of money. I know people that have inherited a king's ransom. I know people that have worked forever to make good incomes. I know people that never made much money at all. I know happy people, and sad people. I know people that love their jobs but mostly I know people that just have jobs. I don't know where I fit in with all these people. I mean, hell, I sell pencils and paper for a living. That doesn't excite me. The only reason I'm there was because they asked me to come work for them. I never aspired to be a pencil and paper salesman. I never dreamed that I'd be a pencil salesman. I never wanted to be this. I just am. But is success directly related to the amount of money you earn? Is success directly related to how good you are at a job? I understand that success in your job is usually directly related to the amount of money you earn. But I don't think that a successful life should be directly related to either your job or your income. Many would argue that point. And many would say that it's easy for me to say this, knowing that I'm not making a killing this year. And if I were making what I made a few years ago, maybe I wouldn't be thinking about all this. But maybe a few years ago, I should've thought about all this.

I've been in the restaurant biz, owned a landscaping company (i cut a million miles of grass for several years that is), I have sold advertising, telephony products, internet products, over the road trucking services, and now pencils and paper. None of these things were anything I dreamed of being when I was a lad. But I'm not complaining. I've never been really career oriented. I hated college because I'm a bad student, and I thought I knew more than they did. I hate authority, I and I don't like punching a clock. I agree 100% with my close personal friend Lloyd Dobbler who said, "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that." Of course Lloyd Dobbler was the character played by John Cusack in the movie Say Anything. But even though I'm quoting a movie line, this doesn't make it any less a valid point. I love that Lloyd was a rebel, and was trying to be a visionary. He wanted to bring Kick Boxing to the main stream, saw a future in it. He was trying to march to the beat of his own drum. And if you think about it, he was right. Even though Kick Boxing has never made as huge a mark as Lloyd had thought it was going to, mixed martial artistry (MMA) has become very popular since this movie was made twenty years ago. I want to believe that Lloyd went into that industry, since it's mostly the same thing. And I like to believe that Lloyd is like an MMA mogul now. But the point is that he had a dream, saw his life's work in front of him, and chased the dream is the important part. I haven't really chased anything yet.

I wanted to be a singer/songwriter, a star, an actor, a writer, a producer, a director of films. I wanted to bring back all the classics, and remake them. This has happened, and I didn't do it. I wanted to develop a Superman series for TV, this has happened twice and I didn't do it, twice. I wanted to write movies and songs and soundtracks about life, love and the pursuit of happiness. All these things have happened and I haven't done them. I wanted to be an artist, wanted to be a painter wanted to be an inventor. I haven't done any of them. I will tell you that I wanted to be a bartender, and became a pretty good one. I wanted to get into sales and did that, and have done it pretty well. It just doesn't excite me, and the only reason I wanted to become a sales guy is because I thought, when I was younger, that they had the good life. That was before I knew what stress was or how the economy could suck the profit out of any sale. But sales isn't really the game. The game is what you sell. I loved advertising, I loved being in the radio business. But I require more respect than that industry provides to any of its sellers, so I moved on. The money was great, but the stress and managment almost gave me a heart attack. That doesn't really sound like success to me. But all we've discussed thus far is jobs. Jobs, careers and money. This isn't even close the point. I apologize for the length of this article moving forward, I just need to get this all on paper, so to speak.

So maybe success is more about life than anything else. Door's frontman Jim Morrison wrote, ""The movie will begin in five moments," the mindless voice announced. All those unseated will await the next show. We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast and silent. As we seated and were darkened, the voice continued, "The program for this evening is not new. You've seen this entertainment through and through. You've seen your birth, your life and death. You might recall all the rest. Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on?""". Did I have a good life? I have had a good life so far. Is that what success is? Maybe. And I say maybe because I don't have all the answers. I believe that the answers lie in the search for answers. And if my life has been a search, it still is a search because it's still in progress. And I don't always know what the questions are or what it is I'm searching for. I know that figuring out how to impact the lives around me is very important to me. I know that being a good dad and trying to create good people out of my kids is probably the most important thing to me. And I don't know if I'm great at that. But I try hard, and I think I do well at it. But it's all still up in the air until these girls of mine go out and try to do something with their lives. No pressure right?

Maybe I've been a decent son, and an ok brother, and I've always paid my taxes. I don't kick my cat and I'll usually stand up for the people that need to be stood up for. I try to be fair and optimistic, but I usually end up being cynical. How does this all add up to the life of success? I'm still waiting for something to really inspire me. What if it doesn't ever happen? What if my greatest accomplishment in my lifetime is that I produced two good kids? Is that a successful life? What if I accomplish that and i've never had a job that I'm passionate for? Is that a successful life? What if I died tomorrow? What if the world crashes into a huge meteor in a week from now?

What if I'm supposed to be the dreamer? What if i'm supposed to be the analyzer of things around me? How am I compensated for that? Does it matter then? Am I supposed to be tortured through a life of jobs/careers that I hate? Just so that I can write my thoughts about them? I'll never be a King, and refuse to be the court jester. But I'm more suited for the court jester role than I am for the King role. What if what's destined for me is something I can't find passion for? How is my success rated then?

And maybe life is just a sum of it's parts. And maybe the my life isn't front-loaded. Maybe the back nine of my life is where my most magnifiscent shots will happen. Maybe the front nine is where I hone my skills and I make up a ton of ground by the eightteenth hole. I'd like to hit one close occassionally.

Maybe I need a sign. Maybe I've already gotten that sign and haven't recognized it yet. How will I be successful in this world until I find my yellow brick road? I hope that paychecks don't determine success. I feel successful. But this goddamned economy has me second guessing myself these days. I know that my parents didn't have to go through an economy like this, ever. I know that the world is going to be a better place in a year or two. I know that the success I have will probably never be directly related to the size of my paycheck, and I think I'm ok with that. I just want to make a difference, make something echo, make something last, make something great. If I don't make something great, will I be unsuccessful? Who's to judge my life? Is it me? God? Yahweh? My life will continue to unfold and i will tell you that the twisting of my life lately has been extremely interesting and encouraging. Maybe my sign is near. Maybe this life has been successful so far, only because I've made it to here. Maybe here is exactly where I'm supposed to be now. Maybe this is just a bend in the river of my life and the ocean or a waterfall lies just beyond the trees, just out of sight. I like that. Maybe I'm successful so far, but the search continues, and the journey has just begun. Maybe understanding of the present is part of the success I am destined for. Hopefully the river continues to flow and the shores guide me through this. I have no compass but I feel the winds are strong, blowing me where I need to be. God I hope I'm right. I need to be right.

CONGRATS ABBY

2009-09-05T22:12:00.002-04:00

Little Sis got a new job. I'm so happy for her. This has been a tough time for the hotel and hospitality industry. Glad she has found someone that appreciates her hard work. Glad they found each other. She deserves all good things. I hope she sees everything.

THIS JUST IN...I CHANGED MY MIND. REDS 09

2009-09-05T21:54:00.003-04:00

Six straight wins. Victories in 11 of their last 13 games. Things are good right now. The Reds have played as well during this stretch as they have in a year in a half. They're actually fun to watch right now. What's the difference? Scott Rolen. Everyone said they have no idea why they upgraded at the deadline, while still shedding a little payroll. I have to admit, I didn't understand trading for Rolen, I mean I understand it, he's an upgrade at the hot corner, but the timing seemed odd. And I had been wondering what in hell GM Walt Jockety was thinking. I was thinking that Jockety's salad days were surely a thing of the past, and that he was just an over the hill General Manager, grasping at whatever he could to make something happen. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Jockety is still one of the most saavy baseball guys out there. I remember the Rockies going nuts in 2007, winning 21 of their last 22 games and going to the World Series that year. No one was even thinking about the Rockies in August of that year. And in September they went nuts. Here's the story about it if you don't recall. And no, I'm not saying the Reds are going to the World Series this year. The Cardinals are too far ahead in the NL Central, and they're just too good to let the Reds or anyone else in the hunt at this point in the year. But the Reds did something that no other NL Central team did this fall, they've turned it around. This team might be good. They seem to be much closer to a playoff team than the other Central also rans.

My apologies to all the negativity I put on Mr. Jockety over this whole season. Maybe he's in better control of this team than any of us imagined he was, especially me. I will continue to watch when I can, and will probably be back to writing about these Reds a little more. I appreciate tough, gritty, focused baseball play, and this Reds team is doing exactly that. I admire this incarnation of the Reds. I will not even say anything negative about Dusty Baker today. Its still a long shot, but the Reds still could have a winning season this year, if they stay focused and tough and don't run into anymore injuries. I'll be watching either way, rooting either way, and enjoying it more if they win. This town could use a winner. This year has been tough on everyone, hopefully more like me are enjoying some baseball.