Virtual Reality and Jumbo Shrimp

So I can't sleep which is a common theme in my life, and I'm watching television, an equally troublesome and possibly more hazardous dilemma; and I come across a documentary on the legal merits of virtual reality. Apparently this virtual reality thing has really caught on in cyber-space. Really. So I'm watching this show which is having a real dialogue about property values and rights, and even taxable stuff which are resultant to simulated world(s) in cyber space.

So me generally not the brightest bulb in the lamp, already flickering dim at "god-knows-when" in the morning, jaw gradually dropping incredulously as the Stanford University Lawyer weighs in on the merits of "virtual cyber crime" have now found myself staring at the television akin to that of a deer just before going into the "air-bag deploying" light as it were.

As if we don't have enough issues to deal with now people are scamming simulated people out of simulated products. Or are simulated people scamming simulated people out of simulated products. Its like some kind of nightmarish 70's sci-fi movie meets Dr. Seuss.

I mean... I couldn't keep up. They talked to a cyber entrepreneur who brought cyber property which is now worth some ridiculous amount of "American Dollars". The term "American Dollars" also kept popping up. Bear in mind I periodically checked to make sure that I was on the documentary channel (talk about careful what you wish for) and not comedy central.

I think the kicker for me occurred when the guy showed the simulated people walking into the simulated stock exchange. The dude was creating a simulated "stock market". Furthermore Cato here wants people to buy stock and is trying to elicit real stock markets to list on his exchange. At this point I think even Elron Hubbard is going "what the duck?" and is channel surfing to some male enhancement infomercials. Now there's a dream. I want to go on television smiling and talking about a pill that enhances my satellite reception. Yeah. Lets record that for later.

To close I would posit that virtual reality, though intriguing, and even perhaps alluring to those seeking to escape the mess that is our world; is just that an escape. To whit unfortunately when the ostrich sticks it metaphorical head in the sand to hide, the world keeps spinning, and bad stuff still happens. So I say expend the energy improving reality, then go play in the dark.

Buddhist Journalism

OK. So its Monday. All day. Monday is a great day to question......... everything. Why? Why me? Why bother? When? When will it stop? Why did it start in the first place? What was I thinking when I? And for the love of Pete, how will I? Furthermore if I ever find out who? who was responsible for all of this then....

I think I have it now. I just need to find out where?

Its Sunday Night......... and its raining

Its Sunday night and its raining. A peaceful soft rain. Loud enough to have a presence. Not so much irritating like drizzle; or disconcerting like a downpour. Downpour exist simply to display my ineptitude at building a back porch with pavers, while allowing me to excel at "shop-vacuuming", which I have recently petitioned to be a new Olympic sport. Hey with all the time Curling got in the Olympics, why not bring in a shop-vac. Better yet, maybe we could use a shop vac to harass Curlers. I would watch that.
"Earl is lined up to slide his rock. His partner Edwardo has his broom at the ready"
"But what's here comes Jon in from the right with his shop vac. Oh and he has the extender accessory, I believe double bonus." "Edwardo swats at Jon with the broom, but its too late. He's been sucked." "Game set and Vac to Jon, the first ever gold medal Shop-Curler-Vacumer". "Do you believe in miracles!!!!'

OK just me. Little sidetracked there. Probably just the rain talking. But I digress, it is 10:00 at night 70 degrees outside, in a part of the United States that nothing out-doors should be 70 degrees. Frankly, I am too ignorant and tired to rant about Global Warming (but it's too hot), and too tired. I just wanted to share a couple of quick thoughts before bed. So sleep well out there who-ever you are or think you are, or are afraid you are. Tomorrows another day here Earth, and the trend looks to continue onward for the rest of the week.

Peace

j

twas the day after christmas

Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house
crap was strewn haphazardly about
covering even our pet mouse
the stockings were spilled on the couch and the chair
It was readily apparent that someone had been there.

When what to my tired old ears should I hear, but two blaring robots doing battle quite near
I achingly stood to see what was the matter as my children did argue and chatter and chatter
I thought to myself who could cause such commotion and I new in a flash
the cause of locomotion

SANTA CLAUSE

A very old elf, who was lonely and strange
known only to keep company with the small and deranged
he was rumored to sneak about town once a year
climbing on rooftops with what he claimed were "flying reindeer"

Passing toys out to children whom scarcely he met
while he smiled and winked
such a thought left me dripping with sweat

Who was this strange man I thought to myself
who could pose right among us and not seem a threat

As I watched parents and children standing in lines
all desperately seeking to share money and time
with this man this conundrum who couldn't be write

I must google I thought to understand why. Or how such a thing could occur
without cause or exposure
Freud like implications
made me almost lose my composure

So I typed in the keys in my querriless search
and found the cause of this perilous learch

Plain as day it popped up on my screen in my den
It was Coca Cola that caused such chagrin

How obvious and clear it all came to me then
that this conglomerate incorporation could spin
such a perilous web and create such a stir
all leading back to small can of acidic drink nestled
in a neatly wrapped tin (can of coke).

I listened to each boy and girl
telling tales of the toys their parents
would have to endure

the idea to my notion was so very haughty
how could this creepy old man dare call children naughty

so I thought to myself trying to drift of to sleep
confused in my slumber which would scarcely by deep
how humans at time could tend to be sheep
going further they dared call that poor old Grinch a creep

At least he kept to himself
only drawn from his cave
with such loud clanging and clatter
where such a matter legal
clearly an insane defense would possibly matter

Happy Holidays to all
and to all..................... a good night

Happy Kwanzihanimas

Happy Kwanzihanimas!!!!

To one and all. What better way to celebrate this Wintry Celebration marked with everything from Druidic Pagan Rituals, Candles, Songs, Coca Cola the proud sponsors of Santa Claus, and the Jehovah's Witnesses (god luv em) for their celebration of well............. nothing. Hmmmm. Nothing. Interesting.

Still I think today, there is an argument for nothing. This is where you ask yourself, is this going to be one of those diatribes about how Christmas has gone too Commercial.

In a word. Probly. Honestly, I don't know where it falls out. It is the season giving, receiving, football, and nothing. It is a magical time for many children. A time to recognize who truly blessed many of us are; and sadly many are not. We remember love ones lost, celebrate love ones found; on the Dr. Phil show we celebrate Love ones who lost weight only to find Love ones who were actually distant cousins and confront them on there drug use.

Honestly this Christmas, I am lost. If you watch the news, everything is bad getting worse. Still it takes an hour to park at the mall, just to go shopping. Granted I don't live in a Microcosm of society. Microsoftsiety maybe, still not the same thing.

I just have trouble finding meaning in the whole thing. Which of course immediately centers me to my children. Which is where I find most of my meaning. Christmas is still magical to them. Which is cool. Of course life itself to many children is magical. The true magic I suppose lies in not losing the magic itself. Presently I feel like someone sandblasted all of the magic off of me. I'm not ready to tie an antler on a dog and steal presents from my neighbors or anything, I think I'm just jaded and saturated with this holiday in which we take a brief timeout from our worlds to be kind (this excludes mall parking, and shopping lines) to others. Maybe if we could reverse things and say be nice most of the time; say maybe 357 days of the year, and be rude on just a few days. Yes I think I have it now. There is a good idea. Nothing but niceness for the majority of our lives, excluding a few minor holidays.

We could have "dick day", when everyone is a dick to everyone else. This could be marked with selfishness, greed, and over all self centered behavior.

"Lie to your spouse day" a celebration of infidelity. Which could be followed with or replaced by Valentines day, depending on how your, "Lie to Your Spouse Day" turns out.

Halloween Rocks. No changes. Maybe more eggs.

St Patricks day could be, angry drunk day. This would only require minor calendrical adjustments, and you could punch anyone wearing green.

I'll stop now before I delve any further into the pool of bad taste of which I am waist high and sinking fast.

Just a quick thought, not so much how bad "Dick Day" would be, rather how good, almost everyday could be.

"And all the Who's in Whoville...................."

Back without a Vengeance

Well. I'm back. Yippee. Sorry I have been away so long. So much has happened since I last blogged. We have a new President Elect. It is now December. In terms of viewing the world from a "Whinny The Pooh" kind of perspective, I find myself feeling rather Eeyore. where as I like to think of myself as more Tigger. Honestly, I am probably just Pooh. An overweight bear "of little brain" with impulse control issues regarding honey. Yep. That sounds more like me.

Bummer. I think there is a book called the "Tao of Pooh". Probably a good read.

Peace

Happy Halloween

Aaaaaaaaaah yes, it is "All Hallows Eve". A night to celebrate those things that scare us the most. Goblins, Ghouls, Ghosts, children inhaling large quantities of sugar. I know, I know, it scares me to. Much more than the undead. Personally, give me the undead and keep the 7 year olds with a handful of snickers and skittles.

I digress. Earlier this week I watched a show about haunted houses and possessions (Not re-possessions, that's a whole nother SCAAAAARRRRY blog) and I go back to some classic Eddie Murphy material when Eddie notes that some people just don't leave. It was funny stuff. I wish I had the technology to post it. And like all things funny, it's largely true. The whole show, which was scary enough, honestly; but as it dragged on left me more annoyed at the people than scared. You find yourself just saying leave. And why does the priest always have to be Episcopal? I know we are an accepting faith but just once can't we throw in a baptist, maybe some potato salad and big haired healing experience? Back to the whole residency issue. Yes I know the economy is a nightmare unto its own, and housing is an issue; but I draw the line at demonic possession. Maybe I'm squeamish, or even egotistical, still I find if there is more than one of me in me (don't even go there)..... I'm leaving. No brainer. No debate. Leaving.

To continue. My neighbor (down the street) continues to have the coolest house ever. We're talking about cemetery stuff, Iron Fencing with poles bending to indicate the exit of the recently undead. He has a fog machine. A fogg machine. I so want to party with this guy. Its one thing to attach a ghost to a string, or as my daughter refers to large inflatable "globes of evil" which blow leaves in a circle with a little witch enclosed. My son following in-tow saying "Gwobes of Evwil" like a maniacally deranged Elmer Fudd. Then it is altogether another matter to really to have skeleton arms coming out of the ground. Personally its more fun watching the people watching his yard than the yard. Earlier this week I saw a guy driving by this house. Stop at the stop sign. Start and then do the "collective Scooby Doo" cartoon did I just see???? thing. Priceless.

Again, to contrast my neighbor, We have a traditional carved pumpkin and one bat which flies in a circle. Its fake.

Have a Happy Halloween.

No bats were harmed in the production of this blog.

Electorial Precipice

So as we sit on the precipice of what stands to be the most important election of our lifetime. Of an election which stands to affect: our lives, our children's lives, our parents lives, our grand-children's lives, our neighbors gardener who knows a guy who walks with a limps life, and certainly not least to some guy who is or is not a plumber, is or is not running for congress, who works for a plumber, which allows him to plumb, and wants to own his own business eh.......

Its a big deal. First. I think anything is better than what we have. Right now I would vote for a box turtle if I thought it would improve things. Still our country, if you haven't noticed is connected to other countries, and it would nice if maybe some of them....... LIKED US. Maybe its just my issues of low self-esteem, still right now the only people that "dig us" (if even) break every day for tea with "the Queen" and refer to Elton John as "Sir" hmmmmmmm. Does Rush Limbaugh know this. I hate Rush Limbaugh. OK maybe hate is to ........ soft a word. But I digress.

Bottom Line. We have money tied up everywhere. The trail, I believe starts somewhere around that soul-less Harpy "DICK" Cheney. Every time they wheel this demon's carcass to a hospital because of Heart Problems it makes me laugh. If this guy has a heart then I have three ears. This cat strikes me as a Satanical version of The Wizard of Oz. He's Like some cross between the Scare-crow, the tin Man, and the Lion hopped up on Steroids. I'm not even going to address the witch piece. Where was I, oh yeah "Dick" and (Money Trail) ends up in Juan Valdez's Asses Ass. Taking a brief detour through parts of Mainland China, Europe, Central Asia, and Winnipeg.

My point, and I know I have people scratching there heads at this moment, is that we are all connected. Yes, in a Buddhist kind of way. But also in a real money greed, green means go dollars, rubles, franks, euros kind-a-way. So if maybe we vote in an administration that acknowledges the world is not only not flat, but that other countries matter, then maybe, just maybe we can start some dialogue. Dialogue. You know...........talking. Such that maybe we can fix some of the un-adulterated debacle that we find ourselves in.

Tomorrow, we'll discuss caffeine, and maybe put in some shelves. "Good Day Then"

Horoscopes for the socially infirmed

Just had a minute to share:

Horoscopes 10-22-08

Aries- I know you feel good about this person but maybe your friends might be right. This would be a good time to lay low and heed wisdom from cooler heads.

Taurus- This Aries person really diggs you, but watch out for friends; they might have alternative agendas which could rain on your romantic parade

Gemini- Today is a good day to be outdoors. To cleanse your spirit in the fresh winds of Autumn. Today you can move on and get that healthy break from Aries you've been seeking

Cancer- Today is a good day to go with your precocious nature. Make that call. Send flowers. Just make sure Taurus doesn't find out. I think he has serious Stalker potential. Plus rumor has it he has a crush on Aries.

Leo- Ah poor dear sweet Leo. Today you feel trapped in the spotlight that only your ego can contain. Be leery of Gemini, because he is still pining for Aries (as if), and Taurus has moved in on Aries, before the body is even cold (talk about lonely hearts club). I say party with Cancer.

Virgo- Dear Virgo where do I start. Really? Aqua Velva? Really? On a first date. That crap smells bad enough to take a cat out of heat. Might want to reconsider dating advice from Taurus.

Libra- Oh Libra. Don't blame Pisces. You were warned. I know this was a blow to your ego. I imagine the stench of Aqua velva will linger for sometime. Still. It's nice to be asked. Isn't it.

Scorpio- OK Scorpio here's the plan. Call Libra. She's vulnerable. And lets face it, your no prize. She just polished off a nightmarish date with Virgo. If you hurry, there is serious rebound potential. Oh, and lose the Aqua Velva; why you guys listen to Taurus I'll never Know. You realize he's probably a stalker.

Sagittarius- Sagittarius, I don't care if it has a front entrance and a small kitchen; it is still your mothers basement. Come on now, lets pick-up our chin, look in the mirror, and say "Today is my day". Oh and I know you and Pisces have unlimited text. Still 52 messages in 17 minutes could be viewed as "clingy". Remember what happened to Taurus. How he got that blue tooth in there is still a mystery to me. But then why would anyone spray Aqua Velva on that body part? Dis-infectant is my best guess?

Aquarius- Aquarius, you may be the ultimate water sign, but right now it looks like its raining feces. Just stay inside. Don't bother. Really. I checked the stars. Its not pretty. Order in, watch depressing T.V. and be thankful you don't live with Sagittarius or date Taurus.

Pisces-Dear Pisces, I am so hoping that Aries, listens to you, if only this one time. Furthermore so as not to throw stones from your glass thrown room, why are you stringing Sagittarius along? 52 text messages? 52? You know that he hangs out with Taurus? Me thinks you can do better. Rumor has it Leo may be a lion but he is hung like bear.

House Part I of many

I love the show House. It's a cool show. Fascinating really. People find such horrific, obnoxious qualities about this guy; who is essentially a prick to everyone on the show. Or is he?

Lets discuss. I think people, in watching this show, really identify, or want to identify with this character. He is somewhat verbose, even bellicose at times; but enough toying with my new thesaurus. He is genuinely interesting in saving patience lives. It is his primary goal. He makes no apologies for his behaviors, comments, or actions.

Me. I dig this. This notion of abrasive sensitivity if you will. intriguing.

I will peruse this exercise further, later, as it bears thought which expands beyond the reaches of the flickering 30 watt bulb that is my brain.

Sleep well World.

Free at last Free at last!!!!!!!!!!

I have finally learned how to remove these ridiculous adds from my blog!!!! Praise the Lord!!!!!! I have had the inane advertisements which I idiotically put in place over a year ago and have not been able to remove. So every time I do a blog on something, someone tries to do some advertisement related to my topic. Its like a key word search. To whit, and I think anyone who does or has read this blog, can get the problem. My tendency to talk about saaaaaaaay anything leads to some weird adds. Awesome. I am free to type away..................

Christ versus Buddha

How's that for an ice breaker? So I'm laying on my bed thinking to myself multiple thoughts. As I am prone to do. I think of the Salmon. You know the one who spends his life fighting the current swimming up stream, fighting torrents of water, and the occasional bear just to fertilize that egg. Fertilize that egg? Then he dies. Anti-climactic really. All that work swimming jumping de-bearing. Sex. Then death. No retirement plan. No beach. No Vegas all-u-can eat bar. Just death.

In my limited understanding of things I see the Buddhist mentality of life as one which goes with the flow. One which says "follow the current . Do with the water, as the water would with you"

It certainly sounds more azure. More relaxed.

In like kind Christianity says......... Well I think it says "turn the other cheek."
"Swim as you will. But swim in kindness, with love for other fish" "Oh and if you don't, you could well spend eternity as stir fry". Stir Fry? Hmmmmmmmmm.

So what does this mean to me. Not so sure, really. This much I do know; I am of the warrior spirit. Figure out what you want. Get it. Kill it. Cook it. Come hell, high tide, rain, sleet, Postal worker gone postal, what have you. I do know that I am perhaps my own worst enemy, and that I probably put up more road-blocks on myself than does the world.

I also suspect the world lives a similar life. I am sure many is the smart man/woman that has said "We are our own worst enemy". I don't know who I stole that from, but it ain't mine, and I ain't the first person to say it.

I know that when I am in goal, and when I play a "passive", go with the flow, relaxed type of game which lends itself more to baseball; then I play better. And when I play an angry Linebacker "hit it" "hit it again" type of play. I give up more goals. Its a subtle point, but there is a strong micro-cosm here. Because when I go with the flow, the flow goes with me. But when I stand strong against the tide, I end up broken and battered. On the ice and off.


Just some food for thought. Bon-appetite

No really. You better watch out.....

So my little girl is at that age, when little girls start to question things. It's a magical time of wonder really. As things start to fill in place. Concepts, fairy tales, the Easter Bunny, what have you.

The other day she looked up at me smiling with the brightest cutest eyes and asked me, "Daddy is there really a Santa Clause"? What was I to do. So young. So innocent. Still growing ever day. Learning, take it all in like a sponge. Dare I clip those wings and arrest the growth god intended. Do I shelter my beloved with lies.

Oh shit yeah. So this is basically what I told her. " Absolutely, there is a Santa Clause, and in point of fact, he sent me a letter recently, saying that some boys and girls had been giving him some bad press, calling the big man a fraud.

I told her.
"Honey, Santa is special caring man; who loves all children" But let us consider, pumpkin, just for a moment, that
this is a man who Donn's a red suit, with flying reindeer, and parties with Elves, preferably called the more politically correct term, Midgets with ugly ears."

She looked at me as only a child could. Innocent and knowing. So I continued. Santa said that he is tired of this naughty list thing, and he wants names. He wants the names of the kids who are calling him and his operation. Dare I say his crew, a fraud. Further more C ( I call him C for Clause). Was very clear, that whence forth he got a hold of this widgets what been sullying his good name that they (miscreants) would be dealing with a lot more than a stocking full of coal. Like maybe a pillow case full of soap bars (painful, but not bruising).

I held my child nestled in my lap, and said, "Sweetie, this guy scares me, and I've seen him drink. So what say you and I write Santa a letter, telling him all the special things you want for Christmas, and maybe sharing with him the names of kids what been causing trouble."

In closing, I look forward to a peaceful Christmas, with the pitter patter of Deer hooves on my roof, and perhaps, if I'm lucky the clinking glass of Warm milk and Cookie crumbs.

Oh, and incidentally. Billy Thompson if your out there. Sucks to be you dude. Sucks.

Good morning. I hope this blog finds you well wherever you may be. I think I will write with a positive tone this morning. I hope you are:
smiling, laughing, feeling life to its fullest. I hope you remember:
good days, sunsets, cold beverages on hot days, and hot beverages on cold days with loved ones.
I hope you feel:
resurgent, vibrant, opportunistic, as everyday brings us new opportunities.
So take the time to:

Live Laugh Love and Taste life to its fullest. Suck out every drop, get the deepest marrow from the bone. and feel. feel life to its hilt.

peace,

jon

Chocolate Kisses and Vampire Dreams...........

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah yes boys and girls its October!!!!!!!!! Time for Halloween. The coolest Holiday of all. A celebration of Chocolate and Costumes. What could be more fun. I mean really. You get to dress up as your favorite .........whatever. And go out and eat lots of your favorites. Hell if your lucky. Maybe both? Oh oh . I know dress up as your favorite chocolates and eat each other TRIFECTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But I digress, for not only does the Chocolatier industry brain wash us with promises of rapid energy bursts, but they silently undermined other food groups as well. Carving Pumpkins? Think about it? What's the real message here? That's right. Its ok to kill vegetables kiddies, come with me into the forest of sugar and hone..........

Anybody else getting creeped out by the scary guy blogging in the clown suit? Just me? Ok.

So sleep well oh majestic Wicca, wherever you may be. For the night holds you close with Chocolate Kisses and Vampire Dreams.

late late show

Its 2:38 in the morning, and I am enjoying the perks of my career. While I sit and wait for people to return calls about matters essentially out of my control, I have time to ponder things. To appreciate. Even ruminate perhaps.

Presently I would have to say I'm not so disappointed in myself for not having learned more about the stock market. Ignorance in this case is bliss.

I do appreciate the finer things. Laughter, for instance. I have found myself laughing more of late, and I have found that to be a good thing. As laughter is both healthy and necessary. But enough about Palin.

To that end, or beginning I would re-address laughter. When you are surrounded by those who make you happy and joyous; all-be-it friends, loved ones, and children then good things happen.

Pretty much too tired to elaborate. More better later.

peace,
j

Five minutes.........

Five minutes to comment on the state of affairs. Stocks bad. Haircut, bad. Palin, "SCARY CLOWN". Fall beautiful. Daughter very beautiful. McCain "misguided patriot"

Ice cream is still good, and continues to become more fattening with every day my metabolism slows. I think I'm going to pack a suitcase and fly to Wall street pitching a stress management seminar. Think it'll sell? Probably faster than......... Well plummeting stock.

John Stewart. Smart. Sleep. Still vastly under-rated. Peanut Butter remains high on my list of priorities.

Not really focused this a.m. just wanted to share.

Have a nice day. Love on another. Go and play happy.

Drop Kick Jesus through the Goal Post of Life

and so life continues on. it spills and chills, bumps and bruises, ebbs and flows. I still try to laugh at the horrid shit, and smile at the beautiful moments as they cascade by me.

I think the commercial says "Life comes at you fast.......... something or other insurance." Here's a thought...... NO SHIT. Talk about an understatement. If your paying attention. If you have the balls to open your eyes on the roller coaster that is life, you find that yes, its goin pretty DUCKIN fast.

Your kids shoot up like weeds in summertime, anybody, I mean anybody with a brain has to be somewhat disconcerted about the state of affairs in our country. We sit upon the virtual eve of what stands to be one of the most important elections in our brief history as a nation. A nation of lemmings. And by lemmings I mean small rodents who follow each other in what-ever perilous direction the Alpha Lemming chooses. So between the Fox network and local preachers a lot of very important decisions will be made. Does this scare me. YA THINK?????

Don't get me wrong I make most of my decisions, at least important ones at the behest of someone I find to be more knowledgeable about whatever topic I'm not (knowledgeable). However, that lists rarely includes anyone on Television (minus comedy central, the only real place to get your news), and most certainly not from anyone in a pulpit with an outdated tie and seven expired cans of hairspray forming some kind of "Bee Hive-Mullet for Jesus" hair cut.

Now I imagine these remarks probably leave me unpopular in many sectors. I imagine. But let me tell you what I know. I'm right. I've been there, done that, and watched lemmings hypnotically stare into the idiot boxes of entertainment basing the decisions of little Tommy's College fund in the hands of the hopelessly lost.

good night children.

sleep tight, and don't let Bill O'Riley, bite (anywhere. what a freak).

First Day of School

So as it happens to so many of us. Our little tad-pols grow legs and hop away. My little girl had her first day of school today. I was not present for the blessed event but my wife says it went off without incident. I suppose it was good that she escorted my daughter in that I tend to take the, "Finding Nemo" Approach to parenting.

And no, I'm saying I wish my daughter's mother was eaten by a Barracuda (although we have our moments), rather I'm implying that I am the more conservative parent, which tends to fear the worst. I'm sure of course that this has nothing to do with my employment in the mental health field.

But I digress, and I know it sounds cliche but they do grow so very fast. One minute your cradling them in your arms, the next there bounding off to school. You find yourself standing in place holding a baby blanket wondering were the time has gone? I'm selfish this way. I don't want to share my little girl with anyone. I wish she could stay home another year. "Whats the rush I say?"

"She's ready." My wife calmly replies. She's half right. My daughter is ready. I'm not.

I love you so my little Nemo. Go swim, play, and have fun. Remember to watch for sharks, as you ride the current with your fellow turtles finding your way.

Your loving Marlon

Vacation

Vacation is a complicated term. It can mean many different things. It is oft referred to as time to relax, reflect, and re-energize in a respite of some capacity allowing a reprieve from said career activities. These "Vacations" often involve trips to exotic locations such as the beach, a lake house, some might go to Vegas, or even Europe. Often times people just want a change of venue, if you will, a sort of "Anywhere but here" scenario.

Now, having said this, I am going to add one small word. A one syllable six letter word. FAMILY. There I said it. Family. Lets insert the word Family just in front of Vacation; and see what we find.

Family Vacation, an opportunity for one to reflect and appreciate the mundane consistencies of Career Work. A chance to reflect, and re frame one's views on whats really important, and really annoying. An opportunity to re-address ones short-term memory as per, "I could swear I promised myself I would never do this %^$**in trip again.

And let me say this, for those of you with children, if I never, NEVER, SEE ANOTHER freakin WEBKIN as long as I FREAKIN LIVE it will be too FREAKIN SOON.

If you don't know, Webkins are these freakin teddy bear stuffed animals that come with software. A kind of simulated life, shop, exercise, shampoo, your poodle, giraffe, whatever, thing. My dad views them as educational. I on the other hand, view anything that creates conflict between my daughter and my niece as a strain. Cousin's they love each other dearly except when it comes to......... I don't know EVERYTHING. So trying to make piece in a condominium on the 16th floor with 4 kids, 2 grandparents, 3 parents (the smart one stayed home *ucker) has its complexities, throw a lap-top plugged into miniature pincher into the mix is at best idiocy. I know that it is the grandparents duty to spoil the children; but at what point does spoiling spill over to torturing the adults.

Recipe for disaster: take two sets of kids with staggered ages ranging 3-8 add one kind of several different toys, such that sharing would be difficult for a group of well fed Buddhists, then take them out at only the best times. Bed-time. Nap-time. FREAKIN DAY OR NIGHT TIME.

Doth I sound a tad bit edgy. Perhaps. You'll have to forgive me, I lost my "Koala Webkin" at the beach, and I just can't sleep without it...........

A Pirate looks at 38

And so we come to this solemn solemn day. This day signifying summers magnificent heat as it rounds the third turn into August and onward toward September. Yes July 31 is upon us again, and I stand upon the cusp of 38 years old. Old. Not young. Old.

I stole the term a Pirate looks at........ From Jimmy Buffet and started doing these pieces some time years back. I have taken a few years off, as I have come to view my birthday with more ominous, and less omni.

As I sit and write this diatribe, I would like to think that I am writing as a humbler, wiser, person. Probably not true. Probably more aware and afraid. So I sit and I write. My back is sore, and I had sense enough not to play hockey tonight. I suspect one year prior, I would have dragged any part of my living carcass out on the ice. Funny how a mortgage payment and children change one's priorities. The term "shake it off, is compelling different".

I find as I think back, that I have less to say. Its really all about my family now. Their quality is my quality. Their joy is mine etc so on so forth.

So I will sleep tonight, and wake up a year older tomorrow. But the coolest part again... is that I know that I will be awakened by the pitter patter of my children's feet. For that I am truly rich.

who ever you are or wherever you may be, I would hope the god that you know or choose to affirm blesses you and keeps you safe this night.

Bulldogs Hockey

Hey folks,

I have a new blog I am toying with. It is http://bulldogshockeyland.blogspot.com/. It is a spoof/reality look at adult hockey in the triangle area. Some other teams have websites, that might take themselves a little too seriously, which as always makes things entertaining. So check it out if you get a chance. Good stuff.

j

Mommies got crabs........

Some things you just don't want to hear. "Mommies got Crabs". Not high on my list. I suppose I should back up. The wife, kids, and grandparents are at the beach this weekend, and as it turns out the Mrs. touched a crab. Not such a big deal.

Now here's the thing. I love talking to my kids. Every chance I get. Furthermore, I fear the day when they don't or won't be bothered by my tiresome self. However, I would prefer some brief warning. Like "Hi honey. how are you? the kids want to say hi........." Instead the phone rings and I get.
"Hi daddy. Crabs run sideways. Mom touched one, but I didn't get to (my youngest is in the back screaming "I wanna talk to daddy")."
" Daddy, are sharks mammals?, Mommy met a lifegaurd today. I said they were kissing. she said he rescued her from drowning. In the bedroom." "Those life guards sure now how to breathe. Mommy was sooooooo red. She said not to tell grandpa."

My youngest gets on the phone. "Daddy... Daddy look at my see shells." I love the age when you can see stuff over the phone. Actually the technology exists, I just can't afford or. understand it. "Ok, love you, can you put mommy on the phone?"

"She getting crabs with Uncle Lifeguard"

just fly

Its hard to watch people who care suffer. Its like watching people repeatedly throwing life preservers to individuals who don't even know they are drowning. Change. is it so hard? People hate change. Loathe it. Like predictability is so great. If you know a trains coming, why would you choose not to get off the damn tracks??? Its a freakin train.

I honestly think humans are almost as programmable as damn computers. Some days I feel like I'm a computer repairman, with no training or tools. The only difference is..... A computer doesn't have a choice. If a computer has a problem you go in and fix it. People choose.

I'm not knocking free-will. Its a good thing. Its just heart-breaking to watch people do self-destructive things because they devalue themselves so much. Its tragic.

Hug your children tonight. Tell them you love them, Value them. That they are special, and that they can do ANYTHING. Children need boundaries, but not for potential. Dare your children to spread their wings and fly as far the sky will allow, and love them as they learn. Love them when they fail. Love them when they succeed. Most importantly. Only love them on the weekdays that end in Y.

A word of remembrance

I think something should be said to the loss of two men I view as great and visionary. Tim Russert of NBC, and George Carlin. Both men where giants in their field. Both men greatly affected the world around them, making this world arguably better.

Russert from my limited understanding was a man who personified integrity. A man who represents journalistic ideals at a time when journalistic integrity is void to the extent that it could arguably be viewed as oxymoronic in nature.

Perhaps to further this irony, I think the man who would comment best on this would perhaps be George Carlin. A man who made no apologies for who he was or what he believed in. Not so much a choir boy, still a guy who was to my understanding honest and open in his commentaries about the world.

One man made us laugh, while the other reminded us of a time when news meant something, and trust had validity.

I had a chance to briefly peruse the political cartoons mourning the loss of Tim, and the cartoons seemed again to speak to integrity and class.

Such interesting contrast between these two great men. One man shouted and shook his fist at a system he disagreed with; whilst the other stood firm with pen and paper meticulously addressing a maelstrom of political issues.

In closing, I like to imagine the two together playing chess. It is safe image for me to digest, and I take solace in the idea that they are in a better place. However, often times they say tragedies happen in three's and I cannot bear the thought or timing of losing another great such as the likes of Tim Russert and George Carlin.

mayberry hell

I work in mayberry hell. really. This place has all the warm acutriments of Mayberry, plus the hearthful warming qualities that, Hell has to offer. We have a town drunk. Who stays drunk. Marries the towns crazy lady, in between hospital stays.

We have local small town politicians with hair pieces that make your wonder if a bald poodle is somewhere shivering in a corner trying to keep warm. You have the local beauty shops with the little blue hairs who go in to get their blue hair quaffed in the style that is usually referred to as;" she looks so nice" when passing the casket.

We have a depraved miniature inner city fully equipped with all the crack, drugs, and whores, you could ever dream of. I suspect a lot of small towns have evolved this way. Small gas stations and mom and pop stores, no different than 50 years ago, minus the gang tags spray painted on the walls.

Its all here. And I suspect everywhere. You just gotta now where to look. I think you can find goodness and evil on every street corner. You just gotta now where to shop.

ventilation

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah time to take a moment to speak. to let the dogs run as it where. if i had dogs. if i was a dog. i would be a lazy cat fearing tired dog. I like dogs. personality. cats. not so much. cats are all meow and hair. dogs are interested parties. dogs are present. ready to share. wanna play. oh yeah. Cats. "i don't know maybe" "you got any good cat-nip on that ball?"

Actually one of our cats (we have 2) is kind of a hunter. which is cool. The other one. well the other one is more of a rug. which is also cool. He likes play. he likes to paw at you and stuff. He just doesn't want to get up to do it.

Cats like laser pointers. they will chase those. of course use extreme caution as per eyes and such.

dogs will chase most things although it is funny when you throw a Frisbee, and the dog looks at you as if to say, " and your point is ?"

pets are interesting. You have your exotic pet people. your reptile owners. Your iguana types. God forbid spider owners. Spiders? "and your point is?" Personally my take on spiders runs along this line. If I need a laxative, I'll go to the pharmacy, not the pet store. I'm sure both products are equal in causing me to crap myself, I just prefer less legs and hair in the equation. So to speak.

So we look for the positive

In a job which is so often so bleak, we struggle as workers to stay upbeat and positive. In a place where happiness falls like crumbs to the ground. I find myself looking for meaning. Meaning which I see. In children's eyes. But here's the thing. If you can be kind. Kind. to other people. listen. to other people. then you have something. if you can help someone. great. if you can't. explain why. If you aren't the door opening for someone else, take a moment to show them another doorway. We live our lives having doors closed in our faces. It gets old. We get tired. I see these people daily. Tired people with sore toes, from having too many doors closed.

Validate. not parking. truth. validate what is going on. if its bad acknowledge its bad. bad doesn't mean unfixable. Bad just means bad. If your life sucks. So be it. at least you have a starting place. Sucks ain't great, but at-least its directional. Love more. Forgive even more. What is that saying,...... but to forgive is divine. I think it is divine within more than outwardly. Forgiveness is self-healing. Forgiveness leads to acceptance. or verse-vice. If we can truly forgive then we grow. as people. as spirits.

I'm not saying this to be cheesy. I'm not saying, don't laugh at the guy with the mullet, and the lawyers briefcase; but maybe don't point and giggle. Because somewhere he has a mom. with a mullet, and a members only jacket. and she loves her son as best she can.

God has given us a world that is a fun house mirror. So we can shrink away from it. or giggle. What's it gonna be? I hope I can laugh. Crying once in a while might be cool too.

Shout out to my sister. I love ya babe. Your awesome. Spread your wings and fly. Dare to be the great person you truly are inside. Your courage inspires me.

j

i wish i could find the girl i spoke to after he died. i remember being in my room, watching a movie. I think it was Roger Rabbit. someone was banging on my door. A friend was crying saying something about, "I thought it was you". We went to the window and looked down. The EMT's were doing there best. I remember the sound of some kind of generator. The broken bricks, and the EMT's working frantically. Dizziness.

in the hallway his friend sat crumpled on the floor, crying. broken possibly moreso than our friend. she kept saying "its my fault" I just held her, while she cried. broken.

I remember waking up our hallmates and telling them what happened. It was stange saying the words "Alan's Dead". The shock of it all sweeping around all of us.

We all sat in meeting room. Someone told us some speech about how this would make us all closer, and that we would have a lot to endure. I guess i listened. Then some other guy. i guess the expert came in and i don't remember anything he said. he had that counselor beard. thick scraggily. the beard that says, "i'm a shrink, i can shrink you".

The sun came up and i tried to close my eyes. all i could see was alan, laying there, and those poor EMT's.

Alan's funeral was the prettiest day, i can recall. it was fall but smelled of spring. the air was crisp and the sky was blue. i remember an older woman sitting next to me crying. and crying. I think i touched her hand. i can't say for sure. i would like to think i reached out.

i don't think alan was churchy, so the preacher had to give the "I talked to Alan's friends....."

i tried to sleep after the funeral. still saw alan. bummer.

i had talked to alan the day before he jumped. we were watching perry mason. for whatever reason. You know how college kids watch stupid crap between classes or when the should be studying.

alan was punching the wall that night he was mad about something. i think his friends were talking to him or arguing with him. i remember going out in the hall at some point and confronting him about banging on the walls. or confronting his friends. i can't or don't want to remember. he, or they apologized. it was cool. no big deal. i guess this is the part where i ask myself what if i said or did something else. what if i asked what was wrong instead of saying knock it off, or whatever i said.

later in the fall i saw her. the girl. the broken girl. i didn't say anything. i didn't know what to say. what do you say. we made eye contact. that was it. i wish i could see her again. talk to her. i don't know what i would say. want to say.

sometime later, i was driving with a friend and we saw another friend. we picked her up and were driving back to the dorm. she said something about having a wierd night. She said she watching a movie with some friends. Roger Rabbit. Somehow it was hilarious to me and my friend. just tragically ironic, i think. we didn't explain it to her. How she thought her experience watching Roger Rabbit was strange. i hate that rabbit. alan, who of course isn't named alan, was a good kid. bright and funny. somewhere it got lost in an instant. and so it is.

if'n i was to rant

this is just a free write. a chance to stretch out my fingers. nothing to rant about. too tired to rant. if i was to rant, i suppose i would be upset about gas prices. i think its interesting that this press secretary guy from the bush administration came out with a book saying everything anybody with remotely any sense new. then all of these commentators come out in shock and dismay. questioning this guy and attacking his character. duh. he was the presidential secretary, which i estimate to be the colonial equivalent to the guy holding jeffersons piss jar. why now? the pundits ask? i don't know. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. lets see could it be ......... GREED???? ya think? still i look briefly at this stuff and think.. duh.
it is a disappointment to be a part of one of the more stupid times in history. i could be wrong but i'm really reading history as indicating we were stupid. honestly believing anything this administration has to say, is just about equivalent to believing in professional wrestling.

peace

the priveledge

Yesterday I had the privilege of visiting with a blind man. Interesting statement. I know. However, this blind man, also did not speak English. I on the other hand only spoke a rudimentary modicum of his language.

So while visiting some friends, kids playing I found myself in an awkward position of speaking with this older gentlemen. In truth, I was intrigued. I learned that he was an art-teacher, and had only been blind recently (I'm guessing three years). Still, in my visit I came away impressed at the wisdom of this man. His kindness, and patience. I got no taste of frustration or bitterness. This was a man who was retired, robbed of his sight by a botched surgery, and essentially forced to love with his son in a country which language he didn't speak.

Still the man was courteous, happy, patient. The man had a kind energy about him and even a good sense of humor.

So I lamented not having shoes, until I saw a man with no feet.

So continues

So continues my whining rant at life. Gas prices are up. Politicians continue to act like politicians. The smart remain smart, yet I fear the ignorant remain ignorant. So much of life is perspective. It is so easy to feel sorry for yourself. Yet easier still, if you perchance to glance you can quickly find someone worse off than you.

I'm not saying If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I'm simply saying, for the most part, we are free creatures with the power to choose. often times, I suspect more than not, the bounds in our life which leave feeling burdened and chained down, are self imposed learned behaviors.

Let us not forget our friend the elephant, who is chained in place as a child, but merely restrained by a string as an adult. Learned.

Just a thought or two.

blurp

I wish someone would write the idiots guide to idiots. Cause I'm curious. How they operate. Manually? Is there a switch somewhere? Who knows to replace their batteries? And why do they bother? It would be so nice to say, "shhhhhhhhhhh just stay quiet he's about drained".

Why are homogeneous groups of individuals so proud of their individuality? "We stand together Apart and Unique".

The children are our future..........

Every once in awhile the oncelor returns to his desk and types. If only for a minute. Or five. Life is still life on planet earth. Children are still the coolest things. My ego is still my downfall. I still don't like snakes.

Few things in life matter more than my children. It is so important to raise our children well. To give them a foundation. To help them grow strong and have the opportunities at happiness and quality. To know joy.

Nothing else matters much.

I may be dumb. but at-least I'm slow

So I'll take a few minutes to share. To clear my head as it were. As if it were possible. I'm not seeing it. I love the title of this blog. It just seems to fit my life in its wierd puzzle piece fitting sort of way.

My existence on this planet has definately been interesting. I have definately seen some schnit. I have heard some things that would definately alter some folks reality. I have learned to laugh. I have learned to see humor. Everywhere. Everywhere. Which if you can't see the humor, then you can't deal with the pain. And if you can't deal with the pain, then your just lost anyway. In a world were so many people walk around in pain, humor gets it. Humor scratches that itch. If only for an instant. It takes you away.

Humor is my blues. Granted my harmonica may be broken, and my sunglasses may be store bought from a gas station, but so be it. If I can't be cool, at least I can be me. Which I suppose ain't cool. There are days when I definately feel depressed. Depressed. Days when I feel like the cowboy that been gutshot in the western. He knows its bad, but he's scared to look. He knows he's wounded, he just doesn't now how bad.

A friend of mine sent me a e-mail one-time talking about how self-pitying, self-serving I was. The friend pointed out my wounds one by one identifying them with salt. He indicated, almost prophetically that I was pretty messed up.

So here I am three years later. Blessed. Lucky. Cursed. Dumb enough to feel sorry for myself, but smart enough to know that the world is full of real suffering.

I survive on the smiles of my family, and a passion for sports. I cling to that. At times I feel that is all I have. However, if that is all I have.... then I am truly a rich man.

My Bloated Amphibious Valentine.........

I think valentines day is generally regarded as an annoying chocolate covered opportunity for men to purchase lingerie for women. Which actually, now that I think about it sounds pretty cool. In-fact I would even venture to say peanut-butter away from a trifecta.

But times change, and last night after a long day at work as I muddled through the masses of others dumb enough to shop at the last minute like myself, at large department stores; I found myself thinking this isn't quite the romance I was shooting for. After purchasing 2 large helium balloons and a potted rose bush, thing; Which to my defense I have been extremely busy. Also the wife was very tired after a full afternoon of being with the kids, which at least gave me some justification for hurrying with minimal guilt.

Finally, I return home with a have large inflated frog (don't ask), and a barely inflated (really I don't want to talk about it), one time "heart looking" balloon. I find myself standing in the doorway holding a bloated amphibian on a string and dragging a big red piece of, well, plastic, and small pot with some rose blooms (I think).

Then like walking into another world, I am greeted by my 2 gleeful minions and my spouse. I am suddenly enveloped in this huge wave of positive energy. This warm blanket of happiness and love. AWESOME. The balloon. HUGE. COOL. The kids played and played with the frog; and dragged the plastic around with essentially equal glee. The smiles. Magical. Healing. Priceless.

Its like one minute I'm doing that job I do. I've probably cursed more times than the upper section of Yankees-Red Sox game. I've told jokes that Andrew Dice Clay would have removed from his act for embarrassment. All of which is done basically to survive.

But then. Then I hit that door, and its different. I don't know if my blinders pop off, or my rose colored glasses pop on; I just know I'm in a better place. And I find myself wishing that time could stand still. Forever. Forever.

Life however, like time doesn't stand still. It simply keeps on going. Reminding me daily that its rich fullness lies in the details, and if I will, but for an instant; shut up, and pay attention. Then its true beauty, which has always been present, will reveal itself. Always. If I could give anyone any advice at all. I would say "hush". "Listen". Listen for the beauty.

I was talking to a good friend the other day on the phone, when my son came over to me and basically, in three year old e's; told me to put down the phone and spend time with him. "Hush"

The Pulse

Country music. Whether you like it, or not; has captured the pulse of life. Country understands people. It acknowledges weaknesses, short comings, dreams, and angst. Its cool that way. Like a comedian you love, because when he speaks about the pain of life, you say, "I've been there." Then you LAUGH of all things. Country acknowledges mans foibles. People listen, and survive. They survive. They get through that long day. That job they hate. That relationship that their trapped in. In fact, Country music gets them out of that life their trapped in. Its says I've been there. Done that, and I have the beer stands to prove it.

Rock is mythology. Rock is angst. Rock shouts and shakes its fist at the world, while the angry masses shake their fists with it, and say, "yeah thats right we're here and we're pissed". Rock talks more about what we want it to be, and less like what it is. Rock is immature. Rock is at times a tantrum. Rock to me is less grounded in reality. Which escape can be good. To each his own.

Country, says this is where we are. Sometimes it says, I wish I was somewhere else, but it still looks at escape from inside the walls of whatever factory, hourly wage prison folks are trapped in. Folks. Not people. Country is folks. Pop is people. Rock is people with multiple piercings and bad hair cuts. Country music is the dog that you love. Your pal. Who is always there, and doesn't pee on things. Rock to me is an annoying yap dog. A little dog that won't shut up and tries to hump your smaller couch pillows.

Now I say this as a tweener. I was raised mostly in the North, by folks from the South. Which basically says, "I'm relatively obnoxious, even annoying; but I can still make grits and out Bass fish you on any day, with any fishin pole and 2 plastic worms.

j

Guest Blog "Cart Rage"

The following is a rant from one of my oldest and dearest and most pregnantest friends. Enjoy.

I am the Wife and the Mommy, and somewhere along the way a part of these titles also translated into "primary grocery shopper for the family." In fact, my husband will tell you that one of the reasons that he got married was to never, ever, have to set foot into a grocery store again. Fortunately for our relationship, I hate to perform any kind of car maintenance (from oil changes to putting on the winter tires) beyond updating my bumper sticker(s), and he's quite fastidious about it. Anyways. I do the grocery shopping.

As "just" the wife, I had the luxury of using a relatively small cart to zip through the aisles and to whirl circles about slower shoppers or those who were stuck, mid-aisle, while they compared prices. Now as the Mommy, I have two children who diligently (that is: "have no choice") accompany me on the weekly outing, and I've gone from the two-tiered zippy cart to the ultra two-seated cart with the "car" attachment on the front (which seats a total of 4 kids).

First of all, have you ever tried to steer one of those things? They're as long as a Cadillac and have a strange center of gravity that makes it kindof impossible to take sharp corners or to stay in your "lane" when cruising an aisle.

Secondly, with a very active 3-year old sitting in the car attachment, it is not wise to stay in my "lane" in every aisle unless I'd like him to collect food items from the bottom shelves as we're going through the store (usually, I try to get him to sit on the left-side of the car, and I say a small "thanks!" to whomever designed the car with belts to clip my kid in).

Lastly, trying to empty the cart onto the checkout belt by reaching over the car and into the cart all the while jammed between gum and the latest tabloid splattered with Britney Spears just makes my back hurt. But my main gripe with grocery shopping is this: who in the heck has put all of the cardboard "displays" in the aisles? Are you kidding me? They're always staggered down the aisle on alternating sides and they're usually in front of something that I am reaching for, so I end up trying to move the "display" which is usually flimsy and in danger of falling apart at the slightest touch.

They also jam up the flow of shoppers in the aisle, even if I'm shopping early in the day and practically no one else is there. How many times is someone parked with their cart across the aisle from one of these senseless displays of food seasoning (or whatever), causing both "lanes" of cart traffic to stop?

Or that I encounter another Mommy with the uber-cart coming the other way and we end up in a stand-off until one of us takes the open lane to get by? Pushing that behemoth of a kiddy-cart around, there is no way that I can squeeze between another shopper and a display, so I have to sit there and wait for traffic to clear up, while my kid is taking things from the bottom shelves, until someone moves along. The best situation is when someone positions one of these extra aisle-advertisements at the end of an aisle so when I am blindly maneuvering my cart into that aisle, I run into it. I just LOVE that.

Honestly, I don't understand road-rage but am thinking that I'm going to be acting out some kind of cart-rage the next time that I encounter a crowded aisle of displays or run one over by accident taking a blind turn. I can't wait to be banned from my regular shopping store for bad manners when all I'm asking for is for the stuff to be put on the shelves where it belongs!!

(sigh)

five good minutes.......

I am taking five good minutes to do some writing. Five good minutes. This is good to relax. Bad if your making love. I'm sure there is a medication for preventing five not good minutes of love making. I know there are medications which indicate that 4 hours of what I will call the "potential" to please your partner. Its interesting to me, because they always say if you suffer from the "potential" for more than 4 hours, you should go to an emergency room. Ok. What about who-ever you are pleasing. If they have been a part of this "broadcast" for 4 hours they might need some medical attention too.

Just a thought. Aaaaaaah Valentines Day is once again upon us. Interesting day. Valentines day. It makes me think a short chubby winged voyeristic guy with of all things arrows with potential to make you have "Potential" for pleasure lasting anywhere from "five good minutes" to "Four hours resulting in trauma".

Peace, and happy Valentines

j

Drink Life

A toast to life

To smiles, laughter, tears, and joy. To bittersweet memories of victories, defeats, embarrassments, and accomplishments. To the game. The process. The essence. To the smells, sounds, and sights. To Shakespeare's eloquence, and Springer's ignorance. To humanity for all its veinglorioussness. To our hypocrisy's, idiosyncrasy's, and our novelty. To Ben Franklin, for inventing pretty much everything. To fear. Fear of Failure. Fear of success. Fear of opportunity, growth, and yes even the dark.

I would toast pride, for without it, mans foibles would be dull. Whoever said Pride Goethe before the fall. NAILED IT. To the Greeks who's epic pieces mocking and celebrating Pride. To humility, for its quiet calming presence. To silence, sweat, silence when it intrudes on our traffic inundated lives only to remind us that crickets still exist.

Finally, to peanut butter, chocolate, chocolate and peanut butter. To star filled skies and my children's eyes. To the opportunity for better days. Let us be grateful and aware of our blessings, and conscious of those less fortunate such that they too might see better days.

Oh and to Jack who turns three today.

Lost and Found

I have often suspected that anyone who understands the meaning of life probably implodes, pops, explodes, or just disappears. Maybe a brief Gestalt, an "A ha" of sorts; then poof, bang, nothing. Not so much a cosmic image. Still I wonder. How many songs? Books? Movies? Poems? Address the meaning of life.

One of the best books (one of the only books) I have ever read is called, "Man's Search for Meaning". Why? We wonder. What came before us? And before what came before us?.......

"Then came the Dinosaurs. They all died and we bought Mercedes Benz's"
a loose quote from the Movie "Airplane"

Bang. I like that. There was a big bang. Here we are. A large explosion, and we commenced to being. Being what? Well stuff of course? What stuff? You now "Bang Stuff" "Matter".
"OOoooh Matter".

Or there's a tale about a strange man in a large boat. Of which whom even though they were told specifically not to take candy from strangers or get into large watercraft with strange bearded men; 2 by 2 they boarded.

Hmmmmm. I'm still confused. But we need to understand. We just gotta know. Or maybe its just me. Maybe everyone is going, "It is what it is". Which I do here often. I do believe it was God or Yahweh who said, "I am." Which is a little brief, but I suppose if your the lord, who's gonna get ya for sentence fragment.

Which I love about religion. It finds people. Or people find it. I was........in a gutter.... with a pigeon............covered completely in......... having lost everythi........I didn't even know she liked trucke....rs......and I found religion. Or religion found me. Usually, these are the scenarios as I have observed them:
- It was late
- I was lost
- I was in some way shape or form under the influence of something
- I was minding my own business in a tent when a small man with REALLY big HAIR
struck me in the forehead

The following results. Now I'm all better. I get it.
"what"?

"You now. It. the meaning".

"what meaning?"

"THE MEANING"

"Ooooh well if you are going to put it in all CAPS" "Well then it must be so"

Which brings us to faith. I like faith. Faith primarily says. BECAUSE. Faith is like an answer on credit. Its like a "Get out of Jail Free card (Monopoly)" for tough questions. And if you get Really annoyed with someone, then you can............ QUESTION their faith. People have been drowned, stoned, burned, and even kicked out of the Republican party for having their faith questioned.

Having said a lot about very little using linear, circular, and even no logic at all; I will leave you with this.

Beats the shit out of me. Daily.

microcosm on ice

So today we go skating. As a family. My wife, myself, and our 2 children. We're skating at a rink that has 2 separate rinks for skating; of which often times there are several activities going on. Today we had the usual public skate on the one side; and a junior hockey game on the other.

Ice skating is always interesting. You have many different types. Families, such as mine with little ones skittering about, sliding and falling. You have teenagers skating more fast than they are agile. Or more clumsy than they should go fast (talk about a multi-applicable reference to teenagers). Me, I'm trying to get my youngest to focus enough to get his skates on. He's almost three, and he is thrilled to be in the presence of any and all, and especially multiple stimuli.

My oldest at five, is equally excited and grows exponentially independent as the hours turn into days. Of course my lovely wife, who seems to live on FM radio, while I amble about on AM, tries to keep me focused on keeping the kids focused.

We make it to the ice. My youngest basically wobbles like that newborn moose or deer or whatever animal that happens to be newborn on the nature channel, and learns to walk within an hour, and is outrunning lions by dinnertime (lions).

So we skittle and wobble, and I hold my youngest while he feels his way around the ice. My oldest, takes off. More heart than technique. Determined, fearless, and social, she ambles about with the basic skills of skating, sans stopping (hope that makes the next lesson).

Teenagers. 4-5 scraggly looking shaggy kids, all arms and legs, going too fast in and out off various families, and figure skaters. The father in me thinks. Even slightly. Even close. And somebody is going down hard. Hard. Then I remember.........

A gangly kid, who was way cooler, way faster, than these teenagers. I remember a kid who could fly. Who could actually jump small children and trip senior citizens without even braking a sweat. Even impressing the European judges as he skated rapidly long hair flowing in the wind, while Duran Duran blared out of speakers and disco balls spun. Yes this kid was special. He made braces look cool, and pimples seem sexy. How soon we forget. I wonder how many dad's were inches from taking me down hard?

So intermission comes, and I step next door to watch a little hockey. Holy-shit. I'm there for like twenty seconds, and I see like four absolutely brutal, illegal hits. Parents standing around cheering stupidly, like parents do at any sporting event. Only in this one kids, on both teams are getting smashed. The referee, who I would find out later, is new, and for on the ice for his first time. I also find out that this is the highest league for like 15-16 year olds. Regardless. I saw four Roughing Penalties and six Slashing Penalties (names are self explanatory) in moments.

Parents are all jacked up, and screaming. Its bedlam. The referees, who I remarked to a friend of mine who coaches kids around this level, would eventually lose COMPLETE control of the game. I don't care what sport you referee, which I would never do. The second you lose control. You have a problem. I'm just glad no-one got hurt. Later I would hear parents in the lobby saying, "you should have decked him"...... etc. I want to vomit.

Later as I skate quietly behind my daughter who is too independent at this point to skate with me, as she determinedly works her way around the rink, little arms pumping, little helmet on her head. I feel such joy. Such pride. Just to watch my daughter happy. Independent. Happy. She is magic. I watch as she slides to ice. I Skate over and pick her up. I have both of her hands in mine. I skate backwards while she holds on. Slowly as I watch her smile. Then Faaaaaaaaassssst. I take off, and she laughs as I pull her around the ice she is wobbling and careening and laughing until finally she loses her balance and I catch her. She smiles. The prettiest, happiest, no front teeth smile ever. She is my joy. Meanwhile the offspring that only an hour ago was akin to a newborn on Animal Planet is indeed standing, and with the aid of a small crane, myself, my wife, or myself and my wife, gets around is doing remarkable for an almost three year old.

For a moment I am content. Truly happy. Then I remember, and this doesn't temper my mood, rather it strikes me ironic; as I realize that next door, kids are flying around whacking each other with sticks, while parents cheer, of all things, and referees stand lost with whistles.

It is a microcosm of our world, and frightens me to pull the Microscope back and analogously change the players of this vignette from ice to life. From play to war. From calm sky's and austere settings to smoke filled rooms resulting from inept impotent leadership.

So I will remember the beautiful smile and work towards better days.

quotes

here's a quote I read from igoogle

I know who I am. No one else knows who I am. If I was a giraffe, and someone said I was a snake, I'd think, no, actually I'm a giraffe. - Richard Gere

1. What was he smoking?
2. Was he smoking it with the Dali Lama?
3. Does the Dali Lama now he smokes this schnit?
4. If Richard Gere was a giraffe in snake suit, and fell in the forest, and no-one appeared at the preview of his latest movie; then what time would the second train arrive in Chicago?

But I digress. I'm all about Buddhism. Truly cool, peaceful, stuff. But I don't get it. Periodically I pick something up to read about it, and I just get totally lost. I think I'm just not smart enough to get it. Its like, "If the wind is blowing then why do the fish swim? the boy asked" "Because of the wind chimes tell us about the rocks". OK, I'm sure someone gets this somewhere. Me, not so much.

Now...........HERE'S A QUOTE FOR YA.

The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment. - Dorothy Nevill

Now that is cool proverbial powerful wisdom there. I say this because I am all about the tempting moment. I have a gift for saying the wrong thing at the wrong moment, but well. What a beautiful articulate way to address leaving that alone which is best unsaid. Me, I'm all, "Hey look the Emperor is Naked" amidst the hush's and horrors. If there is a 500 pound Gorilla sitting quietly in the mist of a living room somewhere, I am Dianne Fossey. I am synonymous with blush, and have started many a tale with, " So then John says..........."

Have a good weekend.

It is the stolen quiet moments with our children that answer so many questions and quench the thirst that is our existence.
"Me"

self worth

I am re-reading a text about which deals with procrastination from a different perspective. The book is called, "The Now Habit" by Neil Fiore Ph.D. Good stuff. The book essentially inverts the logic about procrastination, getting away from the why(?) going more towards the why not (?) Fiore takes a more positive approach to life diverting away from the more negative aspects of issues which so often bind and limit us as human beings. He makes a lot of good points. I have to say I like this book and would encourage anyone curious about procrastination to take a look. This book is refreshing. It gets away from the obvious. Its not a motivational tool. There are no pictures of big people with big teeth saying, "get up off of that couch" "And Do It". I see Neil more as a smaller less toothy guy who kinda says, "Hmmmmmmmm why are we on that couch, and what can we do to get off (the couch)? Its Historical cool really.

Thanks..........

This is soooooooooooo cool. check this web-site out. I think it addresses the way a lot of people feel.

http://www.gratitudecampaign.org/shortmovie.php

Doctors.... taste just like chicken

Foreword I would like to apologize to all of my friends who are Doctors, be they PhD's, MD's, what have you. I love you all and cherish your friendships. And you know who you are because you are probably the only ones reading this blog.

Let me start by saying, and I am stereo typing hard core, but here goes; there is no I in team. However if you look closely, there is EGO in the word Doctor. In my work I have come to know a good many Dr's and have tremendous respect for them as professionals and as people. Having said this I have also run across more than the occasional breed that I would not piss on if, metaphorically speaking, they where on fire (god I miss my grand-mother, she had the best quotes). Again I would emphasize to my dear friends that were you in any incendiary state I would be both ready and willing to provide hose and urine at a moments notice.

Obviously I have been inundated with the pompous breed of MD of late. So today after leaving what I considered to be a valuable days work, with a client and family; assisting them with appropriate necessities, I found myself walking wearily out the hospital. Again after having to listen to some Big Wheel surgeon go ON AND ON AND ON about his portfolio on the phone. His tax leans, tee-pees, and wig-wams; while bitching at his assistant who had the nerve to call him with a medical question for what I believe was a post-op questions which he repeatedly said, "just do the usual, until he finally grabbed his little quasi sliver phone and essentially repeated said message, hangs up, and then apologizes for this peons interruption into the glowing spotlight that is him. Which by the way was giving me a headache. Me. Me, captain ego. Man of all seasons. Prince of the tides, lord of the rings, king of the jungle, head of the used car lot........ Folks if your ego light extinguishes mine, YOUCH. That's like breaking Narcissus' Mirror.

Ordinarily this would be enough of a build up but I feel the need to share this other small piece..... By small piece I mean a lot of things. For the last three days I have been dealing with this other pompous, whats the word................... asshole. Who has been insistent on discharging an individual who wasn't medically stable. Now here's the thing boys and girls. I am not a Doctor. I also now less about medicine than I can read Chinese (I always get the number seven). However, in my line of work I am required to ascertain as to a clients state of well being before appropriate transfer can be made.

So your wondering. Jon how can this be? We have red your work. We know you are wise and can only presume you are handsome beyond all recourse, and have probably maimed yourself just to keep from being mobbed by fans. Still, Jon, who we all love, how can you question a Dr.? Low not just a Dr. But a genius. A great man. A man who is not only aware of his brilliance but has hired people to reinforce said knowledge.

My answer, dear friends, is simple. And for only $9.95 you too can have........
Actually here's the thing. Bold Face Print. Any medical labs that are out of whack or of the norm, are in Bold face print. Where as I don't know medicine, I have a working knowledge of Bold Face Print. So whilst I can't so much as argue with the greater minds of this world, I can wearily approach the king on bended knee with quivering voice and say, "Pardon me my Lord, But me thinks the Potassium is perchance low on this particular peasant", and then quickly feign back as not to catch the full wrath of Zeus's'(DR) wrath.

So for three days I have been catching shit from Dr. Zhivago who's main goal in life (Second to having a small town, or even state named after him) is to get this patient discharged. By day three, and this shows you just how mature I'm not, I actually wear a tie into work just to remind myself to be professional and not maul this guy (I'm sure I wouldn't I'm all talk).

Fast Forward, patient leaves. Family happy. Nurses happy. Jon happy. Dr. Oblivious to whole scenario, distracted trying to see reflection in stethoscope.

So I'm walking out of the building, tired, and frustrated, when I happen to cross paths with a dear friend. One of those people who is just unique. The guy you recognize and enjoy in movies and sitcoms. The best supporting actor. The straight man. The guy with timing. At times I even feel like the narrator. Just an awesome dude. Truly blog worthy.

So he says to me, "I see Dr. schmo, Dr blow, and Dr. No "( one of which is the first prick I railed about earlier). "and I hear Dr. Blow say" "It's not like we're playing god"...... The guy tells me, after I crack three ribs from laughter that he had the same side splitting response walking down the hallway, and that Dr. Blow said, "Whats so Funny"?

Folks, For those of you that get this. I hope you feel the same mirth that I enjoyed. Its one of those jokes that if its funny to you, you laugh till it hurts. I will enjoy this joke for many a day to come.

But let me close, by again saying, some of the most remarkable people I have had the privilege to work with have been Dr's. Quality, caring people, who have reached out to and assisted myself, and my family on numerous occasions. As is always the case it usually a few bad eggs that spoil the dozen (love ya grand ma); its just that sometimes I would rather shoot a Pea Cock, than comment on the beauty of a sparrow (I'm venting).

Peace,

j