The path I didn't take...

Closing Down

2008-12-31T13:52:00.002-07:00

Well folks I've decided that having three blogs is just too much and I'm going to officially stop posting here.

Please feel free to stop by my other sites:

http://singledadseeking.blogspot.com/

http://www.singledadseeking.com/

http://www.dcourier.com/main.asp?SectionID=109&SubSectionID=389&l=1

http://vinniesorce.com/

I hope you all have a very happy and healthy new year!

How Much do we Really Take for Granted?

2008-11-10T18:27:00.001-07:00

I try very hard on a daily basis to remember how many people in the world have less than I do and then try to appreciate what I have that much more. It doesn’t always work. Several times a day I find myself complaining over minute things that truly do not matter.

I’ve been on crutches since October 5th. Last week I started using just one and today I’ve been practicing with none. I can’t do it without the brace on but it’s amazing the feeling of being able to walk again or in my case just hobbling but it’s something. I never realized before how much I took for granted that I could walk and get wherever I wanted to under my own power.

Makes you think about everything we take for granted. Things we consider normal, food in a working fridge, clean clothes, health, cars and clean water are just a very few of the things we’ve come to expect and even demand.

People are another thing we easily take for granted. Our families, doctors, nurses, police, and especially our soldiers, etc. We expect them to be there any time we need them and we’re not very nice about it sometimes.

I don’t remember the movie it comes from but there’s a simple quote that has always stuck with me, “It’s easy to forget what’s important, so don’t.” Simple words to live by…

Empty nest syndrome, sort of…

2008-08-25T13:47:00.000-06:00

Well I got about 170 pounds lighter this past Saturday. My oldest son Mike is now at college. He’s been gone much of his senior year anyway with friends and working but this is different. Many of the things in his room are gone and I usually saw him at least once a day most of the time. There’s a big hole in the house.

We drove to Flagstaff Saturday morning in two cars where he’ll be attending Northern Arizona University (NAU). Three trips up the elevator and we were done. His friend Reily had come with us and helped him unpack and get set up. Reily is a good kid I’m glad he and Mike are friends.

He’s rooming with his friend Jimmy from home so that’s one less thing to stress about. We went to lunch and Walmart for some last minute things and then took our leave. I talked to him later that night and on Sunday. The freshman blues were pretty evident. I’m sure he’ll be fine but it’s hard as a parent to not feel like I want to fix it. Harder still was not being able to share it all with his mother.

Becca and Joey already miss him. Becca called him the last two nights before bed. She’s going to have a hard time when Joey goes to college in three years. Right now I can’t believe I have a college aged son let alone two of them in three years.

He’ll make new friends, he’ll find new goals, new points of view. He’ll learn what a real long distance relationship is all about (his girlfriend is going to school in CA). He’ll grow from boy to man and take his life into his own hands. Scary and exciting, for both of us.

What Does Her Butt Say?

2008-08-18T16:21:00.001-06:00

For years I have wondered why women bitch at men ogling their bodies when they wear practically nothing. One of my biggest pet peeves is the shorts with sayings on the butt.

I bring this up because the habit starts so young. Even before she was out of diapers I swore Becca would never wear anything like that. Becca spent the summer in NJ with her grandparents and saw numerous relatives. She got so many new clothes that a box of them had to be shipped back.

I have been through the box several times since it came not yet having a chance to put it all away but pulling things from it on an as-needed basis. This morning I needed a pair of shorts and lone and behold what do I find? I’m sure they came from my sister or one of my sisters-in-law and I truly do appreciate the thought (they won’t believe me…) but what the hell are people thinking when they buy these?

Occasionally I get to the see the Bill Engvall show. In one episode his daughter is complaining she wants a belly button ring. She asks, “what’s the difference between earrings and a bellybutton ring?” and Bill’s response is, “when you wear earrings boys look up here,” and he points to his head.

Women complain that men look too much and then they put things for us to read on the asses of seven-year-old girls? This is only the beginning. I immediately took the shorts and put them in my donation bin. Becca saw them in the pile just before school this morning and had a hissy fit so bad that she’s grounded for a week and I didn’t even walk her to the playground at school like I do every morning.

Boys will be enough of an issue as time rolls along I don’t need irresponsible clothes manufactures or advertisers making it any harder.

Sears is running an ad campaign telling kids, “Don’t just go back, arrive.” Why can’t they just be themselves?

I’m sure the relatives will be pissed about it when they read this and have something to say about my having no style. Screw the style, I’m an individual and my daughter will be as well.

A Year In The Life

2008-08-13T00:01:00.009-06:00

31,556,926 seconds, 365 days, twelve months, thirteen lunar cycles, four seasons, 1/7 of my daughter’s life. They all equal one year. A year without the life of Stacy Anne Stubbs on this earth.

When this happened the first time with Lisa (I’m still dumfounded that I can say that…) I was already involved with Stacy when the first anniversary rolled around. I had her and all my family and friends around for comfort. Now here I am all alone and the overwhelming feeling to fall apart continually tugs at my brain.

Last week I went out to lunch just to get out of the office for a bit and as always I faithfully had a book with me, a Nicholas Sparks book, bad idea… The second to last chapter slapped me across the face when the newlywed bride died during child birth and just threw me off the edge into nothingness.

Desperately trying to keep myself together I paid my check and got to the car before completely losing it. I had no idea what to do, I couldn’t stop shaking. Finally I drove to the nearby cemetery barely able to see through the tears.

An hour and half later I had finally calmed down some. I still couldn’t think straight. I went back to work, shut down my computer and was lucky enough to catch a friend for a little bit before I went home.

Today actually isn’t the hard part. It’s the anticipation of the day. To realize how much has happened in the last year since the accident. Life marched on without her just as it did with Lisa. Just as it always has and always will.

Becca and Joey have moved up a grade, Mike graduated high school as valedictorian and is off to college in less than two weeks. We’ve all had a birthday. The Olympics will go on, A new president will be elected, and the sun will rise and set all without her.

Intellectually I understand all this. Mentally my brain is Swiss cheese. As ironic as it may be death is a part of life. To comprehend what that means is a different story entirely.

I don’t know what kind of afterlife I believe in if I believe in one at all but I can just imagine that by now Stacy has met Lisa and they’re off telling stories about me and having a good laugh.

People who haven’t had this experience wonder when you’ll get over it. It’s not something you ever get over; it’s something you learn to live with.

Too many things go unsaid and I intend to correct that right now en masse.

To all my friends and family:

You all know I can be a pain in the butt SOB but regardless of what may show on the outside on the inside I love each and every one of you more than I can truly express and each of you have touched my life in ways I’ll always remember and appreciate. Each of you mean the world to me in your own special ways.

Now, every single person reading this should do the same because you never know when it may be the last time to tell them you love them…

Too long…

2008-07-24T11:34:00.001-06:00

I have not posted here in a while. I started a new project which has been taking some time. No real results yet but I guess it is a more long term project than just writing a short story.

I got my business website up and running if you want to see other things I’ve been writing, http://www.vinniesorce.com/. Just click on portfolio.

The new project I started is described here, http://singledadseeking.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-about-soccer-dads.html. If you know anybody please send them my way. You can see the full site here, http://www.singledadseeking.com.

Writing hasn’t been coming lately. Other computer-related freelance jobs have been taking up my time and then I just don’t feel like writing. I need to figure out how to focus better. While I sit at the keyboard I’m often thinking about what to make for dinner the next day or who needs new shoes or did I did pay the phone bill.

Too much real life going on and then I decide to try my hand at a BIG project. Go figure…

We’re in Disneyland next week so I hope the trip and the kids will inspire me! Still deciding if I should take the laptop or not. Was away last week with Mike in Detroit and didn’t take it and that turned out to be a big mistake. Since we’re driving to CA and not flying taking it will be easier. I’ll probably have less time this time though but what the heck. I’d rather have it if waves of inspiration wash over me.

Hasn’t been many waves lately, no wading, no sand, not even somebody spitting on me.

I’ll publicly (well to the two or three people who may actually read this anyway) make a new years resolution to write for at least 30 minutes each day starting today.

And away we go…

Are Dreams Worth the Cost?

2008-07-01T10:32:00.000-06:00

Watching the Olympic trials this past week I have discovered a fascinating woman in Dara Torres. To be going to the Olympics at the age of 41 and competing with women—girls— over half her age is a testament to what humans can really do.

She’s at the very top of the ladder and Beijing being her fifth Olympic games since the tender age of 14 is what dreams are all about. This mother of a two-year-old girl has gone where no other swimmer and most other Olympians have never been.

She’s twice divorced so it would appear the dream came at a price.

Not knowing all the details it’s impossible to make an educated statement about the relationships but one could easily suspect that Dara’s schedule, status and notoriety may have had something to do with it.

Most people’s dreams aren’t quite that lofty. Being able to support your loved one’s dreams while not forgetting your own is the trick. Putting aside your own dreams in total support of your other half can be the greatest gift of love and commitment there is but at the same it time can create a deep chasm of bitterness and anger.

I say choose your dreams wisely and then go for it with every ounce of energy you have even if you're down to your last ounce.

Summer Vacation

2008-06-09T11:49:00.001-06:00

Seems like eons ago when I enjoyed my last summer vacation. When you first leave high school and college it’s hard to get to mid-June and realize your new job doesn’t take a break for the summer. Then after a couple of summers you get used to it and your year runs from January to December instead of September to June.

Before you know it though you have children and the school year is back! Now you’re torn between what to do with the kids for the summer and being jealous that they have the time off and will most likely just waste it saying they’re bored.

Those hot humid days hold many memories of riding bikes, swimming, day camp, playing softball on the block with someone occasionally yelling out, “car!” My brother and I went out one night and spray painted the bases right on the asphalt. Evenings were spent playing ghost in the graveyard until mothers called us in and our little group dwindled.

Later on I was a camp counselor and then a supervisor. Summer was still fun but responsibility slowly started to worm its way into my life until one day vacation was gone and I couldn’t explain it.

Fortunately I don’t have to scramble to find things for my own kids to do. I dropped the little one off this morning along with her grandmother at the airport shuttle. She’ll be visiting in NJ until the end of July. The two older ones start their Upward Bound program this Saturday.

I suppose in a way that’s summer vacation for me…

A Moment In Time

2008-05-19T19:55:00.001-06:00

In the midst of it all there are things that can bring it all back. Last week at an awards ceremony at my son's high school he was named valedictorian. Proud doesn't even come close to the feelings running through my body. I was invited to the stage to place the chord around his neck. Tears welling up while I hugged him and whispered in his ear, "your mother would be very proud." I kissed his cheek and left the stage while he was getting a standing ovation.

At that moment the world seemed right, for us at least. The salutatorian may not have felt that way. The world can't be right for everybody all the time otherwise it would be Utopia and humans could never let that happen. I often times ask my self, "what is the point of living?" You work hard, can't get what you want and then you die any way. Well no matter what life throws at you that night was one of those times you want to be there for.

Life is made up of moments in time. The moments we choose to remember and often times we don’t want to remember are what make up our lives. Sometimes the moments are short. My very first real girlfriend and I are still friends. We only dated for five months and I could tell you bits and pieces of it but I recall vividly our fist kiss and could describe everything about it in detail.

Other moments are longer. My wife battled breast cancer for three years and I could describe every single day and conversations word for word from the first day she asked me to feel the lump until the day of the funeral.

Some moments are global. I know exactly what I was doing and where I was when the Challenger exploded and when the Desert Storm campaign started. In both cases I was watching TV and saw it live with millions of others.

Personal moments are ones we experience in silence. I know the exact moment where I realized that I understood my father and why he was the way he was during my childhood.

Moments come and go while life marches on in between. Don’t concentrate too much on the marching though because a moment may happen while you’re not watching.

Inspired by a Marine

2008-04-10T22:23:00.000-06:00

Inspiration comes when least expected and when most needed. Today a marine, Gunnery Sgt. William "Spanky" Gibson, who lost his leg in combat inspired me.

Two years ago he lost his leg to a sniper in Iraq. Today he is back in Iraq on active duty at his own request. His leg replaced by the latest in technology and his spirit better than ever he relearned to ski and run and has since competed in a triathlon.

It takes a special person to overcome adversity of this magnitude but then to go back to the scene of the crime to continue something you believe in is miraculous.

This is the type of person that makes me proud to be an American in a time when pride for country is worn thin. This is the type of person that makes me feel that there is a reason to get up in the morning. This is the type of person I want my children to grow up to be. This is the type of person our founding fathers wished for in the future.

I printed the original article to show my children and hang in my office. Any time I feel sorry for myself, uninspired or overwhelmed I will turn to Gunnery Sgt. William "Spanky" Gibson and find the strength and courage I need to continue on.

I forgive you...

2008-03-23T17:14:00.001-06:00

Dear Stacy,

Life with you was never easy. In the beginning it was all good as new relationships usually are but as time drew on I knew it would never work but we had already passed the point of no return and I was going to do the right thing regardless.

Since you’ve been gone I’ve been barley holding on mentally because of all the resentment I hold towards you and no way to come to terms with it without you here. I wonder what life could have been like, if we could have fixed it all. I wonder if my sanity will ever be the same. I wonder if happiness and optimism will ever return to my life and if the anger will ever leave. I’ve been desperately trying to make peace with it and with you to no avail. I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way for me to start letting go of all of it is to forgive you.

So I forgive you for taking advantage of me after Lisa died and not having the sense or caring that I wasn’t ready.

I forgive you for leaving me with another child to raise with no life insurance while you insisted I provide you and her with life insurance.

I forgive you for spending Lisa’s life insurance and leaving no money for my boy’s educations.

I forgive you for treating me like an ATM machine and treating my boys like little slaves.

I forgive you for not once appreciating that I gave up my past, present and future to be with you.

I forgive you for taking all my time which I should have spent with my boys.

I forgive you for taking advantage of my promise to never try and take Becca from you.

I forgive you for making me the bad guy in everything and telling your friends and family falsehoods about me while I confided in one person that things could be improved.

I forgive you for killing my soul and taking my sense of self and burying it alive.

I forgive you for not caring about my dreams while selfishly continuing down your path.

I forgive you for my hatred of women and deep inside hope there is one out there who can change my mind.

I forgive you for everything.

But mostly I forgive myself for letting you do it all to me and my boys…

One man can make a difference, a poor difference...

2008-02-28T21:14:00.004-07:00

Apparently the democratic process of majority rule is meaningless in the state of Arizona. Representative Andy Biggs has unilaterally decided that any bill he personally disagrees with will not be read in his committee. Currently he's holding hostage several bills concerning cell phone usage and text messaging while driving.

Representatives Steve Farley and Andy Tobin both have potentially life-saving bills stalled because Andy Biggs has apparently appointed himself king and believes our elected legislature has no need to hear these bills because Andy knows best. Ladies and gentlemen of Arizona did you know we had royalty amongst us?

Bills HB2396 - Text Messaging While Driving, HB2397 - Cellular Telephones; use while driving and HB2398 - Cellular Telephones; class G licensees introduced by Steve Farley and HB2734 - Distracted Driving introduced by Andy Tobin are being blatantly ignored by Andy Biggs.

Andy Biggs is quoted in the Arizona Republic as saying, "there are already a number of laws on the books dealing with dangerous (driving) behavior," he said. "These laws are adequate. I don't think we need any more laws."

If the laws are adequate why do people still drink and drive? Why do people speed? Why do people commit murder? These are all laws on the books besides being just common sense. So why are there laws for them? To protect the people, that's what laws do, they protect the public from things that they themselves have no control over.

You want the people better educated, what better way to educate them than yelling from the hilltops, "hey all you people who don't seem to have any common sense, listen up, this is bad and you're not allowed to do it any more!"

Your job is to let the legislators decide what is right not to pick and choose what you believe is right. You holding up these important bills is tantamount to a slap in the face to the people of Arizona who believe it will help save lives.

I can only hope that the public will cry out so loudly that you will be forced to do the right thing or perhaps you on your own will reconsider and do the right thing...

Right here is where the public's voice needs to be heard! E-mail Andy Biggs (abiggs@azleg.gov) and tell him you support the bills and that his tyrannical attitude is totally unacceptable for an elected official. E-mail your local legislators and tell them you support the bills and ask them to put pressure on Andy Biggs. Write to your local newspaper editors and scream bloody murder about Andy Biggs and his self imposed moratorium in his little kingdom.

Lives can be saved and it's up to the public now to see that justice is won...

The Hallmark of Holidays

2008-02-13T12:32:00.002-07:00

Tomorrow is Valentine’s day once again. A day devoted solely to ostracization and self-humiliation. A day to wear your heart on your sleeve so it can die in the pollution. A day to declare your undying love to that crush you’re afraid to approach and be publicly rejected to new lows of self esteem.

Card makers, florists and candy companies want you to try no matter what. The day has nothing to do with love it has to do with dollar signs. How much you spent, where you spent it and who you spent it on.

The other half of this equation are the women who want it all. Heaven forbid you slip up on this particular day (as opposed to any other day…); her birthday and Christmas complete the trifecta.

Neither of my teenage sons want to go to school tomorrow because of girls or lack there of. My daughter on the other hand can’t wait because of her first grade party where if you participate in giving valentines you must give one to every person in the class. I could have used that rule in grade school. I was the person who was lucky to get one valentine. I always felt like Charlie Brown and the little red headed girl never came.

If you’re coupled up do it right or you’ll never hear the end of it. If you’re not let the day pass as normal. Me? I can’t follow my own advice. I sent someone flowers and perhaps will make a good old fool of myself…

I’M DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-02-05T19:31:00.000-07:00

Finally after much blood, sweat and tears, well ok there really wasn’t any blood but there were sweat and tears, I have finished writing my first novel! Somehow I managed to string together 80,000 words into complete sentences and tell a coherent story, in my mind at least.

Most writers I’ve spoken to say finishing is an accomplishment in itself whether it ends up being published or not. If that’s the case then finishing it while working full time, raising three kids alone and freelance writing must be a damn miracle.

Now comes the hard part, getting it published. I’ve already had the pleasure of two rejections from agents not wanting to represent me. One rejection took several days while the other took less than an hour.

I like to act and there are many, many rejections at auditions. The thing about the audition process is that you have to physically go there and get rejected in person, sometimes by phone. But with writing you submit your manuscript, mostly by e-mail these days, and you can submit to multiple agents and publishers simultaneously so you can be rejected in the privacy of your own home multiple times at the speed of light! It’s a whole new and much more efficient way to assassinate your self esteem.

Two rejections at this point in time is nothing to worry about. When I get close to one hundred I’ll start to worry and let the depression set in. For now I’ll just concentrate on finding the right agent and continuing on my next project.

The State at Work

2008-01-30T13:14:00.000-07:00

Representative Steve Farley has reintroduced bill HB2396 to ban text messaging while driving. Since the Phoenix city council passed a ban in the fall I have a very good feeling that this bill will pass this time around. I would like to thank all the co-sponsors:

Rep. John Nelson - jnelson@azleg.gov
Rep. Lynne Pancrazi - lpancrazi@azleg.gov
Sen. Paula Aboud - paboud@azleg.gov
Sen. Amanda Aguirre - aaguirre@azleg.gov
Rep. Steve Gallardo - sgallardo@azleg.gov
Rep. John Kavanagh - jkavanagh@azleg.gov
Rep. Tom Prezelski - tprezelski@azleg.gov
Rep. Jackie Thrasher - jthrasher@azleg.gov
Rep. Theresa Ulmer - tulmer@azleg.gov
Sen. Marcia Arzberger - marzberger@azleg.gov
Sen. Victor Soltero - vsoltero@azleg.gov

He has also introduced two new bills, HB2397 to ban the use of a cell phone while driving without a hands-free deviceand HB2398 banning any use of a cell phone while driving for any driver under 18 years of age, even with a hands-free device.

I believe both of these bills will help protect the public from irresponsible people who think they are above common sense. You can help to support the bills by contacting your local representatives and demanding that they vote in favor of all three bills. Write your local newspaper editors as well but most importantly of all, speak with your children on the dangers of driving.

Driving isn’t a grand game that you do after school or on a Saturday night. Driving is a privilege, not a right and if you abuse the right people can, will be and have been hurt and killed. Think about all that can happen while you’re behind that wheel before you even sit behind it.

Time after Time

2008-01-22T10:54:00.000-07:00

I checked this morning to see when my last entry was and was horrified to find it was thirteen days ago! I’d swear I wrote just a few days ago. It’s amazing how time can get away from you so easily.

Time isn’t just a magazine it’s a thing you can’t hold in your hands. A watch or a clock is tangible, you can feel it, see it, pick it up to examine it, you can even change it but it’s just an illusion because time continues forward regardless of what you do.

Even though time is constant it passes differently depending on the person or event. A school day for a child, waiting for a loved one to come home from active duty overseas, being on the wrong side of the bathroom door or waiting for a phone call from a new love can seem like a lifetime.

And on the other hand, your wedding day, sixteen years of watching your child grow, summer vacation, and your own mortality fly by in a heartbeat.

I’ve read that there is a chemical in your body (dopamine) that affects time perception and as you get older less of this chemical is formed and time appears to go faster. Scientists are trying to work with this but I’m not sure you can play with the nature of time.

A friend of mine had her own theory. When you’re young you have so much time in front of you it just seems endless but as you grow older you begin to realize the time you have left may be less than what you have already lived and based on simple math time speeds up.

I guess that’s what makes it even more important to spend your time wisely, because all of a sudden it may be all used up and you’ll wonder where it all went.

The last word…

2008-01-09T11:03:00.000-07:00

The holidays are over and what little time I have has freed up a bit. My philosophical persona keeps appearing making it difficult for me to find writing topics but this morning one hit me smack between the eyes that I just couldn’t ignore.

Like many other writers I check news outlets and other bloggers on a daily basis. I was alerted to this particular story on one of my favorite blogs. The story first appeared in the New York Times.

There are many American soldiers in Iraq who blog about their activities; nothing really new there. There is one soldier however, 38-year-old Major Andrew Olmsted, who decided to write his last blog in July 2007 and have a friend post it in case of his death. He was killed in action January 3rd, 2008. You can read his last entry here.

I can be a strong person but reading his entry broke me down to a sobbing child. In this fast-paced life we rarely tell the people we love all the things that we want too. In his final written words Major Andrew Olmsted was able to do that.

He said he died doing what he loved and his last words to his wife were I love you. He was killed attempting to get the enemy to surrender so they wouldn’t have to wipe them out. The world is full of irony…

My heart is with his family and his unit still in Iraq. My thought are with all the soldiers stationed all over the globe protecting our freedoms.

Please take a moment to reflect on Major Andrew Olmsted’s last word…

Life giving you trouble? Just reboot!

2007-11-29T14:46:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking so much about life lately and I’ve come to the conclusion that we should parallel computers more in our lives. Let’s face it, life is just about changing or upgrading programs and hardware anyway. When you’re first born you're the latest and greatest model right out of the box but a week later you're outdated and new models are already in production.

You start out with Baby version 1 which has horrible bodily function outputs. It would behoove IBM or Microsoft to develop an upgrade to slow or stop this process. While they’re at it this program is very noisy and doesn’t really do much but continually use resources.

Toddler v2.1 has many entertaining games included but they become redundant quickly. Also the motion hardware needs a stop switch. Reliable virus software should be installed at this point but chances are you’ll catch something anyway. There is a good chance that Baby v1 may run again randomly at this stage or any stage in the future. To prevent this use the anti-spywear version of snip-snip. This is an excellent time to install College-fund v1.3 (see College v18.1 below) and make sure you upgrade each year and after every new install of Baby v1.

Child v4.8 spends several hours a day downloading new data at a central remote location and will run remedial data almost every evening. Focus is an issue with this program. It often jumps from task to task without ever completing any and continually has question prompts.

Preteen v10.5 is where trouble can begin. Interaction between sibling and parenting modules can become strained and this can slow down all household programs. Bathing v2.1 should be upgraded at this point and the back-talk driver should be uninstalled if at all possible.

Teen v13.2 is the longest timeframe where upgrades are not available but desperately needed. There will be different issues here depending on if you have baby boy or baby girl installed but regardless puberty v12.8 will install at random times and will never be configured correctly. A fix has never been found for this bug. Outburst v8.6b, dating v9.8 and I-Hate-You v10.7, among others, will become activated at arbitrary times with no observable patterns, this is due to the Hormones add-in that is embedded in this program.

College v18.1 has hundreds of options and varies in cost from state to state but is usually a pay as you go system. In most cases the program will run remotely for long stretches of time and will only run after payment has been made. Masters v21.2 and PHD v24.7 are expensive upgrades but will most likely assist in the future upgrade to employment 25.6 (see below).

Adult v25.4 is installed and uninstalled randomly after college v18.0 and sometimes during. Often times it can take months, sometimes years, before the install is complete and configured correctly and it needs constant tweaking. One other application is required to run Adult v25.4 and that is Employment v25.6 (unless Wealth v2.5a has been installed sometime since Baby v1.0).

There are hundreds of options, upgrades, drivers and add-ins for this program not to mention peripheral devices. Two popular options for this program are Lover v2.9 which can be installed multiple times and upgraded to Spouse v3.2. If either of these programs fails to run as expected be very careful uninstalling Lover v2.9 and/or Spouse v3.2 especially if you have installed Wealth v2.5a because you will lose all your data particularly if you have multiple installs. And of course either of these programs may install Baby v1.

Retirement v65.2 is the ultimate goal of all previous programs. If all other programs have run successfully then this application will install automatically and with no glitches. That almost never happens though. Most people when running Employment v25.6 disregard the suggested settings of the 401k add-in spec. If that’s the case you will be forced to down grade to a smaller machine and give up some peripheral devices besides being forced to install SSN v67.3.

Ending a program prematurely can result in loss of all data sharing on the network. Peripheral devices are optional. Please be advised that all these programs can be run more than once and can be run simultaneously although it is recommended that as few as possible be run at the same time.

Good luck and if all else fails, just reboot!

Merry Freaken Christmas…

2007-11-26T11:54:00.001-07:00

I would very much like to thank the wonderful women in the green Mercedes SUV who stole my parking space this past Friday at the mall. An older gentleman in a baby-blue boat decided to back out of his slanted parking space the wrong way forcing me to back up. I dutifully did the reverse thing and he navigated his ship out and into the stream of traffic. At this point the wicked witch of the West pulls into the empty spot from the other side of the street right in front of me and my mini-van blinker blazing away and the security guard.

Before I even say a word my children are telling me to calm down because they know Vesuvius is approaching eruption quickly. I honk and open my window yelling and she just calmly sits there waiting for me to go away. The rent-a-cop comes within earshot and I tell him what happened and he says it’s been happening all day just ignore it. Ignore it? What happened to Peace on earth and good will towards man?

I decided it was best for all concerned that I not exit my vehicle and just push on. I proceed around the circle and now approached my spot from the opposite direction. The bride of Frankenstein had disembarked from her non-American four-wheeled broom. I took one last vocal opportunity and barked out to her that she has a wonderful holiday attitude and to have a nice day.

The unfortunate thing is even now, three days later, I’m still angry enough to write about it and I have no doubt that scroogezilla forgot the incident the minute she entered the mall. All it did was raise my blood pressure and worry the kids. Aren’t the holidays stressful enough without having to deal with people who shouldn’t be allowed out in polite society?

I must admit though, for braving black Friday with three children in tow that was the only event to blot our very fine day. We patronized half a dozen stand-alone stores and the mall. We had a nice lunch and walked away with several killer deals. All in all it was a great family day and a wonderful start to the holiday season. Despite the Grinch and her wicked ways…

It’s time to give thanks…

2007-11-21T15:29:00.000-07:00

You might think that this particular year it’s hard for me to give thanks. It’s similar to how I could possibly laugh rather than cry all the time. If I don’t live and enjoy life I’ll just dry up. So laughing and giving thanks are really all I can do.

The thing that I am most thankful for of course are my children. They’re healthy, active and for the most part handling their lives quite well. Many people in the world are not quite this lucky. I look at my children every day and wonder how I could possibly not feel thankful sometimes. It’s because life gets too busy and you forgot to stop, look around and remember.

Even though they are gone I am very thankful for having two wonderful women in my life and having had the pleasure of raising families with them. I am thankful for being gainfully employed, for having a roof over my head, clothes on my back and food on my table.

I am thankful for having good friends and family. The type of people who run to your side in a crisis. Local friends to check on you and make sure your sanity hasn’t run out. Brothers who fly 2,500 miles at the drop of a hat when you need them. Old friends from your youth who come together and you can always rely on no matter where they all are.

I do my very best these days to be thankful for everything. I look out the window and I’m thankful for the blue sky, the trees, the birds at my feeder and just life in general. I’m thankful for having a place to write and express myself and having it rekindle my spirit.

I’m thankful for life again and that has been a long time coming. Life can be short, too short. I’m sure I won’t always be thankful for things. Life easily gets in the way, soccer practice, chores, work and many other things take energy and time. But I will stop much more often now, look around and be thankful.

Out of the mouths of babes

2007-11-11T22:16:00.000-07:00

Last week my daughter asked me if I was getting her a new mommy. That simple comment asked in total innocence managed to rip my heart out. Being caught off guard I just told her we would talk about it another time and sent her off to her room. After I finished silently weeping I thought about what she had said. It’s too soon to be seriously thinking about it yet but what is in store for my dating future?

How does a twice widowed single father of three meet people? Getting out into the adult world proves very difficult when children, work and chores are tugging at you 24/7.

There’s always the internet route. It has its pros and cons. It may be impersonal but it does allow enormous amounts of information to be researched before even a first date occurs. However you have to wonder how truthful everyone is.

Just to see how it worked I checked out match.com and completed their ridiculously long questionnaire to discover I was in the ten percent of people that they could not match. Funny, I don’t remember that part in their TV advertisements.

I can’t imagine the bar scene and what I would meet there. Actually I can and it scares the bejesus out of me. I haven’t had a date in almost twenty years. Is there any chance that nothing has changed?

Singles events just seem so sad and pathetic although in a year I guess I may feel differently about that. Loneliness can do strange things to people. I’ve been duped in the past due to feeling lonely. I will not let that happen again.

I look at myself in the mirror and wonder who in the world would want to date that. Like every other spouse in the world I let myself go after the I do’s. Who am I kidding, I never had myself to begin with, I was just younger so it didn’t matter.

Along with the possibility of another love comes probable baggage. Divorce, death, children and whatever else is out there. Do I want to deal with ex-husbands or blended families?

I’ve gone from believing in love at first sight to believing love doesn’t exist at all and back again. Lately all I can think about is the girl from high school that I should have never let get away…

I have no intention on looking for love, I’m hoping it will just find me. Perhaps in the form of an internet connection, a blind date, a grocery interaction or maybe that youthful first love that I stupidly let go will present me with a second chance.

However none of that matters. There will never be a new mommy. She can’t be replaced. The best I could hope for is a loving woman who would love my daughter and her brothers like they were her own. Too much to ask for? Maybe so but I’ll wait.

I’m Sure I’m Forgetting Something…

2007-11-08T18:17:00.001-07:00

When I was younger I used to get very upset with my parents for forgetting things like food that I disliked, the dates of school events or the year I was born. I would like to formally and publicly apologize to my parents before I forget that I should do it.

Age is a funny thing. As you get older and experience the same issue as your parents you began to understand things that to younger minds seem foreign and obscure. Calling my children by the wrong names is a daily occurrence in my house but when I was a child I couldn’t for the life of me understand why my father couldn’t get such a simple thing correct. Sometimes now I can’t even remember my own name.

When I was in the fifth grade I was bullied so badly in art class one day that when we got back to our regular room I just grabbed my coat and left. I walked home and sat on our front steps. For some reason my father had come early from work that day and thought I was home for lunch. In those days you could still go home for lunch. It wasn’t even close to my lunch time and I was so upset that he didn’t remember that. I can’t even recall what I packed my daughter for lunch this morning let alone what time she eats at school.

My mind is packed with thoughts like, did I remember to buy milk? Do I have to pick up Joey today? Did I pay the mortgage? Those are just some of the household issues rattling around in my brain at any given moment. Then there’s work and social (if I’m lucky) plus family obligations to recollect and act on.

As life goes on we are called upon to remember more and more and then even more. Our minds are so full of data that I wish I could just download it all! For a parent there aren’t enough electronic devices in the world to keep it all straight. Every year I understand my parent’s inabilities a little more because I’m living through the same situations and realizing they are not inabilities, just the stresses of everyday life.

My father not wanting to play with me after work sometimes had nothing to do with me, it was because he was exhausted. My mother not remembering when my band concert was had nothing to do with me, it was because she had two other children and a job and her brain was full of more pressing matters right at that moment.

Children of course, after a certain age, remember every word you say. This is dangerous when you promise them something and then don’t remember it an hour later. They tend to get upset and think you lack common sense and intelligence for forgetting these simple things because they should be the center of your universe and don’t you ever forget it, but you probably will. This explains why you suddenly get smarter when they turn twenty-five. At that point they are just starting to become you.

Children view adulthood as a fantastic life of carefree fun, staying up late and having endless money. It’s almost a shame they have to grow up and have that image shattered into a billion pieces.

You age and you grow to realize that you remember and embrace the important things. When you first held them the day they were born, their first day of kindergarten, their driver’s test and countless memories in between. So you called them by the wrong names occasionally when they were kids, so you forgot an important date or two or twenty-seven, so you forgot to pick them up from school one day, the important thing is that you never forgot to love them. That’s what they will remember.

Today could be the last day of your life...

2007-11-06T21:53:00.000-07:00

Writing has been difficult for me lately. It seems that no matter what subject I pick to write about it just sounds trivial unless it has to do with banning cell phones and text messaging while driving. That subject will continue to be my lifeblood but I’ve decided that it is time for me to climb out of the writing hole of despair and see what the sunlight feels like again.

These past two months have been fraught with many challenges, scheduling, after school care, household chores just to name a few. The kids have been wonderful through out it all. We’ll all never truly be alright but we are moving on. The kids seem reasonably well but I have not yet caught up to the rest of the world.

I never quite figured out who I was after my wife Lisa died in 1999 and now here I am doing it again after Stacy’s accident. So many emotions take over my mind and body but they’re all convoluted and mixed up to the point where I just can’t think anymore sometimes. Anger, sadness, confusion, betrayal, and guilt are just a few of the boxcars running along my rails at any given time and usually without a locomotive to lead them.

I’m a person who needs answers and this situation provides none. I do my best to think on some sort of spiritual level that may enable me to somehow understand the philosophies of life and death but the answer never comes. Is there even an answer, a true answer? Of course this is no different a question than human kind has been trying to answer for centuries. The search has lasted this long and will continue for many millennium to come.

One question I keep asking myself is why am I still the one here? I would have done anything to save either one of them so they could stay with their children, watch them grow up and become adults. Yet here I am, why? Philosophy seems to be my own worst enemy recently. The world will never make sense but I’ll continue to spin my wheels trying to make sense of it anyway. Can’t teach an old dog new trick as they say.

People make journeys out of finding themselves. I wish I knew where I lost my self, I’d start my journey there. I guess I’ll just have to start from here and see where I end up. What else can I do?

We’re all just trying to find our way anyway, right?

Too Many Books, Too Little Time…

2007-09-23T09:53:00.001-06:00

I am a chain-reading readaholic. You could say that I am somewhat of a bibliophile. The minute I put one book down I immediately pick up another. It keeps my mind sharp and increases my vocabulary. Also as a writer it gives me new insights from other author’s perspectives.

As a reader though books allow me to go to the wizarding world of Hogwarts (J.K. Rowling) or out to sea with Dirk Pitt (Clive Cussler) or investigate crimes with Alex Delaware (Jonathan Kellerman). Books allow me the pleasure of escaping everyday stress and enjoy a relaxed hour in my hammock or recliner.

On occasion I get to meet an author. By a strange series of events I recently had the great pleasure of meeting with Saira Rao in a small New York City coffee shop. She recently penned her first novel "Chambermaid" which I discovered after reading a yahoo article that she had written.

She's a lovely woman who graciously gave me an hour of her time along with agreeing to read three chapters of my own unfinished novel.

Saira creates wonderfully memorable characters trying to do an impossible job for a lunatic judge who I truly hope does not actually exist in our justice system. Shelia Raj, or is it Sheeba? Sheera? Has just graduated from Columbia law school and is clerking for the Honorable Federal Judge, Helga (rilly, rilly busy) Friedman in Philadelphia. Sheila and her office mates are often called into the "Torture Chamber" to have their inadequacies skewered and barbequed for Judge Friedman's enjoyment. Intertwined in the chaotic work schedule Shelia's personal life takes a nose dive but recovery happens in the form of an ending that was exactly what I was looking for.

Saira's characters are fun to read, the interactions are witty, sarcastic and often plain outrageous. She paints a picture of the American Judicial System that only insiders get to see, and for good reason.

"Chambermaid" is a wonderful read that will leave you wanting a sequel. I know I want to see what happens next...

Put Down the Damn Phone and Drive Already

2007-09-20T15:39:00.001-06:00

Congratulations to the Phoenix City Council and thank you! Yesterday the Phoenix City Council voted to ban text messaging while driving. Now many of us would think that this is just common sense, however, that is not the case, especially among young people.

If you follow my blog at all you know that my fiancé, Stacy Stubbs, lost her life to a text messaging teen just over a month ago. It seems that this finally pushed the right people over the edge to take some kind of action. It’s kind of like the intersection where officials won’t install a traffic signal until enough people die.

A statewide bill to ban text message while driving, HB2129, was defeated in the last session. It is to be voted on again in the next session, January 2008. Perhaps our elected officials will take the cue from the City of Phoenix that this issue is a high priority and will save lives.

I have been in contact with several lawmakers who support the bill and will do whatever I can to help get it passed this January. I was contacted by the Governor’s office two weeks ago for a possible meeting with Governor Napolitano but nothing has come of it yet.

You can help as well. Tell your local legislators that you support HB-2129 and want it passed in the next session. E-mail and regular mailing addresses can be found here. E-mail every member, it doesn't take long, I beg you.

This is exactly the kind of issue where we all have to stand up and make some noise. "United we stand, divided we fall" is not just a saying. The people really can have an effect on their government if they try hard enough.

It Could Never Happen To Us...

2007-08-29T22:22:00.000-06:00

It could never happen to us I said to myself in October of 1996 when my wife Lisa was diagnosed with breast cancer. It could never happen to us I said to myself as I stood at my wife’s graveside on Christmas Eve 1999 holding the hands of my boys, five and eight. It could never happen to us I said to myself as a policeman drove into my driveway recently…

On Monday August 13, 2007 my fiancé, Stacy Stubbs, lost her life in Peoria when a selfish, immature, unthinking, irresponsible teenager hit her head on while sending a text message and attempting to control her vehicle simultaneously. I would like to thank everyone for the outpouring of support, food, childcare, memorial fund (a Godsend since Stacy was not eligible for life insurance), etc. It’s a great relief in this overwhelming time to have such support from the community.

Since this wholly avoidable tragedy I have discovered that texting while driving is not illegal in Arizona. Actually it’s not illegal in much of the country. HB-2129 (http://www.azleg.gov/DocumentsForBill.asp?Bill_Number=HB2129) is an Arizona law to ban texting while driving which was defeated in this past session. I will wonder for the rest of my life if passage of this bill may have saved Stacy’s life…

Laws however are no substitute for common sense. I’ve been watching carefully the last two weeks and the amount of people yakking on cell phones, applying makeup, not using blinkers and speeding among other things is just appalling! We already know that speeding around here is a sport, we may as well build bleachers on highways 69 and 89 and charge admission. Your car is not just a mode of transportation, it’s also a two-ton weapon which deserves respect.

Everyone has asked me what they can do to help. Right now, this second, as you read this I would like to ask you to do two things:

1. Take a pledge to your self right now, out loud:

I will not text while driving. I will not use my cell phone while driving without a hands free device. I will use common sense while I’m driving. I realize it is a privilege to drive and other innocent souls, as well as my self, depend on my total concentration of the road and in the handling of my vehicle.

Talk to your teenage drivers about this, your neighbors, friends and family. Whoever will listen. Have them take the pledge as well.

2. Tell your local legislatures that you support HB-2129 and want it passed in the next session. E-mail and regular mailing addresses can be found here, http://www.azleg.gov. E-mail every member, it doesn’t take long, I beg you.

New laws will never make us all safe but perhaps you may save the life of a six-year-old girl’s mother from a small town in rural Arizona. Oh wait, it’s too late for that…

It's All For the Kids

2007-08-11T20:42:00.000-06:00

Two mothers arrive ten minutes early on this cloudy but cool morning to register their children for soccer. It’s the last registration out of four and approximately 300 people are expected to appear in the next five hours. Ten minutes later the first wave of early bird parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles stream in and the line begins to form.

Previous to their arrival eight volunteer board members have begun to setup. In the gym of the Del Rio school five long cafeteria tables are arranged in an L shape. Boxes of forms, flyers and other paraphernalia are lugged in from car trunks and pickup beds and set in the proper spots so that the registration process flows smoothly around the L. Other board members will float in during the morning as time permits in all of these volunteers busy schedules.

There’s a small lull around 10:00 but the payment line doesn’t show it and it doesn’t last long. Children wander around with lollypops given out at the end of the line. Soccer balls are being kicked around in a corner of the gym sometimes traveling further than intended and bouncing through the concentrating adults. Players look through outgrown cleats hoping for new homes.

At the corner of the L is my section, obtaining volunteers to referee games. Acquiring volunteers of any kind is always a difficult task but coaches and referees are the hardest to get. Parents can smell the scent of being asked for their time and pass us by making a beeline for the payment table. Many do find ways lend their valuable time to the kids on the field though and we are thankful. More volunteers are always needed; people sometimes forget that this is strictly a non-profit volunteer effort.

Flies swarm the gym at regular intervals as the morning wears on and registrants continue to move through. People wait patiently as things get busier around 11:00 and stay steady through 12:20. Several stragglers race in just before 1:00 but not the rush that was expected.

Those of us not busy with the last few Johny-come-latelies begin the task of packing and cleaning up, all in all a very smooth and productive day. Tomorrow begins the task of team and coach assignments, an all day affair, and as usual board members will have to fill coaching gaps on already stretched schedules. But it is all for the kids.

What Happens to the Other Sock?

2007-08-08T13:54:00.000-06:00

It never fails, I put two socks in the dryer and only one comes out. Currently in my dresser drawer there are at least a half a dozen orphaned socks of all colors, no discrimination here. Common sense says that the sock is most likely stuck to another piece of clothing via static cling or maybe it was sucked into the lint trap and is stuck in the exhaust hose.

They can’t all be there though so where do the rest go? Do they run away on there own? Is there a hidden sock commune somewhere in Idaho where they darn each other and stay odor free? Other clothes in the basket create a diversion in the laundry room and a sock slips away unnoticed catching a ride on a laundry truck to reach its freedom.

Maybe the dryer itself creates an environment that alters the space-time continuum. The heat combined with the rotation of the drum triggers just the right resonating wave length for small objects, socks, to be transported to other dimensions.

Along that same theory it may be that the socks are still there. They are just not visible to the human eye due to harmonic changes in the material’s molecules.

Lint is another possibility. It could be that the obnoxious socks get the snot beaten out of them and all that’s left is lint. Also dress socks may be more vulnerable to this than athletic socks. There’s also a chance that older socks may just disintegrate into lint.

Perhaps it’s not even the dryer. Why are we all so quick to place blame with the dryer? Maybe the problem originates in the washing machine. There has always been a feud among these two appliances. It could be the washing machine attempting to overshadow its long time nemesis. It may be time to exonerate the dryer!

Yep, the cost of doing laundry is a sock gone astray every few loads, consumed by the gods of clean attire, one of life’s little mysteries to ponder in those odd moments of life.

It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want to

2007-08-07T15:13:00.000-06:00

He walks into the factory swiftly and with purpose, his uniform crisp and perfect. Heads turn and workers pause their tasks to watch. He touches the back of her neck, she turns and stares. They embrace in a tender kiss and he lifts her up in his arms. Applause explodes from all the employees now watching. She touches her mother’s hand on the way out and places his uniform hat on her head. The screen freezes and the credits roll.

The end of “An Office and a Gentleman” makes me cry every single time, no matter how many times I see it. I know exactly what will happen yet the tears well and then explode into sobs. This is only one of many moments that make me emotional. My emotional stability has been on a roller coaster ride for years now.

Into my late teens I wore my heart on my sleeve and had it bleed often due to that. After my first serious, almost adult, long-term relationship failed I went to the dark side. I was still the sensitive guy that I had always been but now I had control of the emotional switch, for a while at least. I made sure nothing got to me and that I was just aloof about life in general.

That was all well and good until my wife developed breast cancer. Throughout her three year ordeal neither one of us ever cried in front of the other, not even the night she passed and we both knew it was happening. The one and only time I totally broke down was to the chemotherapy nurses after the doctor told me he didn’t think she’d make it out of the hospital this final time.

Since then my emotional state has just stayed in high gear, especially about death. Movies, TV, books, life’s events and even sappy commercials set the water works in motion. I discovered though that this emotional release is amazingly cleansing. People should never hold back, especially to be viewed as cool or manly.

People cry for all different reasons, the pain of surgery, the happiness of a wedding, the sadness of losing a loved one, fear of the unknown and sometimes just for no reason at all. Shedding tears knows no boundaries. Children wail at a skinned knee, adults mist up at their children’s graduations, women sob at movies and men openly weep in each others arms after 9/11.

Crying is a therapeutic experience that liberates you from whatever emotional hold that may be preventing you from moving on. Don’t hold back the flow. If you are overwhelmed to tears then let them fall where they land. It may be the best you’ve felt in a long time.

Was it the End or Just the Beginning?

2007-08-06T11:24:00.001-06:00

Sixty-two years ago today at 8:16 A.M. the Enola Gay dropped “Little Boy”, the first atomic device ever used in combat, over Hiroshima, Japan. It detonated 2,000 feet above the earth. The crew reported a devastating explosion with intense fires and many columns of smoke.

The innocent people of Japan were about to start their days on normal pretense, or so they thought. How many looked up, I wonder, and could possibly see this falling mass of death hurtling towards them? How many knew their lives would be extinguished in mere seconds?

Estimates vary but approximately 66,000 were killed and 69,000 injured, approximately half of the cities population was affected. Those are just the initial figures; they do not count the radiation sickness yet to come for these people and for their future generations.

History seems to write that this bombing and the Nagasaki event three days later probably saved lives by ending the war in this fashion. It seems morbidly ironic having to kill people to save people. Our world works in such ways.

The significance of this day should be remembered so it can be avoided in the future. Warfare changed for ever with this event. Whether it was good or bad makes no difference. Innocent people lost their lives that day, when does it all end? For 66,000 Japanese it all ended on August 6, 1945.

Spare Me

2007-08-05T21:13:00.000-06:00

Have you ever wanted something so much in your life that it just wounded you mercilessly every time you failed? When I was eleven years old I was asked by a friend to be a substitute on his Saturday morning bowling league. It sounded like fun and I loved bowling so I accepted. Little did I know then the thirty year odyssey I was about to start.

Whether bowling takes athletic ability or not is up for debate but since I had none anyway it was a mute point. However it does take skill, for most of us at least. I started out using house bowling balls and inherited my father’s hard rubber ball and shoes from the sixties. It was coal black, the finger holes and shoes were too big and the bag was hard plastic. No one ever mentioned to me that I could have the finger holes plugged and redrilled.

I used this ball throughout the rest of the Saturday morning leagues over the next several years with marginal improvement. But in the back of my head I also dreamed that I could have the ability to go pro one day. It’s not like it was baseball or football or something totally unobtainable like that. Then I went to high school.

I was a counselor at the town day camp the summer before my freshman year. Lone and behold the man who ran the camp was the bowling coach at the high school, George Moran. I proudly told him my average was a 111 and, with a straight face, he told me that his bowlers generally had higher averages than that. I had quite the wake up call when I attended my first practice and every other team member scored 180 or above. These were teenagers, how dare they be so good.

Suddenly my goals had changed. Now I just had to try and catch up, still using my archaic ball while the rest of the team had equipment from that decade. Mr. Moran gave guidance and encouragement which helped me climb to a 155 average by graduation day. Alas though that was barley enough to obtain backup status. Technically I was on the team but I never bowled accept in practice.

I did not let this deter my bowling fate however! My dream was still alive, I was still young I would fool… um I mean tell myself. I went to work for a bank and joined their league at a bowling center where a buddy of mine, Eric, worked. He coached me a bit and gave me one of his old balls which fit me better than my dads. I became much more consistent and my average began to rise. I seemed to reach a plateau around 166 and couldn’t break past it but I kept rolling along.

Soon after I won $250.00 in a contest at work and was able to purchase a new ball, bag and shoes. Now I was set. Call the pro tour because I’ll be there in just a few weeks now. My new ball gleamed under the fluorescent light like a golden orb ready for battle, one I would not win. Oh my new gear did bestow on me higher pin counts in the 178 range but life did not have my dreams in its plans.

These past two months I’ve been bowling with my two boys in a junior/adult league. It was the first time I have been involved in organized bowling for seven years due to unforeseen circumstances. Again with a hand-me-down ball I went full tilt with my pro career dream still looking over my shoulder. To my surprise if you don’t pick up a bowling ball for eight years it tends to do unexpected things such as dive right for the gutter or perform miraculous feats to leave splits.

It’s hard for people to understand why it means so much to me. It was something that may not have been totally out of grasp, something that with the proper time and effort I felt I may have been able to do so that I could be above average. This past summer teenagers and younger were out bowling me again and the pins continue to tease me.

My younger brother played bass in a band for many years hoping for that big break. Several years ago when he had children he put the dream aside with great maturity. I believe the time has come in my life to put this particular dream aside. It takes great courage to chase a dream but sometimes it takes even greater courage to know when to stop.

Genius is 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration...

2007-08-04T22:04:00.000-06:00

What inspires you? I always seem to get hope and motivation from movies but inspiration can come from anywhere, a moonlit night, a pounding rain, a painting, even a crying child. What moves me may have no affect on the next person. Some folks would say life itself is inspiration enough.

I seem to recall my first real inspiration was the movie “Flashdance” as silly as that might sound. I was a teenager with hopes of becoming a musician and if an underage female welder could attain ballerina status then why couldn’t I write a song? I walked out of that theater (ironically enough with my current other half) feeling I could do anything. Of course having inspiration isn’t the same thing as having talent.

Women were my next inspiration while I attempted to become a great poet. I wrote about girlfriend after girlfriend losing each one like dust in the wind. The work was trite and immature but dreams don’t live in inspiration alone I discovered. Nor does inspiration live in the anguish of frequent breakups of youth.

Writing became my passion and I began my first novel. There were endless days of hopelessness and abandon and then I would see a movie that would turn it all around. It could be “Rocky”, “Remember the Titans, “Angels in the Outfield” or “The Rookie.” Doesn’t really matter as long as somebody was realizing their dream it meant I could also.

All throughout life just relentlessly took hold. It didn’t seem inspirational then but eventually time chiseled away the needless marble and statues of endless beauty began to emerge. Perhaps life itself was inspirational after all.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It’s Off To School They Go

2007-08-03T11:21:00.000-06:00

School starts this week for my three children. It’s hard to believe sometimes that I was once their age and had similar experiences. Of course the world has changed in a generation but many of the same childhood practices are still in full swing.

This particular year is a milestone year for all of them. My youngest girl is starting first grade. My middle son becomes a freshman and my oldest son has the glory of entering his senior year.

First grade can be a scary place initially but typically in no time at all friends abound. When my middle guy was in first grade he wouldn’t play with the other kids before class unless I played too. So there I am playing freeze tag with a large group of five and six year olds. They loved it though and the teacher would always thank me for getting them all revved up for class. My little one loves school and can't wait.

Freshman year can be an exciting year but intimidating at the same time. My middle son is not going to the local high school so he’ll be starting at the bottom with friends but it’s a small school and he already knows many of his brother’s friends. His next four years will be filled with friends, fun and hopefully maturity.

Senior year I remember well, feeling like king of the world and having omnipotent optimism that I could do anything I wanted with my life. My oldest has done well in high school and I’m very proud of him, as I’m sure I will be of the other two as well. He has clear paths in his mind as to where his future will lead. It will be interesting in ten years to see where he actually lands.

As much as children seem to detest it school is a necessary part of life. School doesn’t just teach our young ones facts and figures, it also provides life instruction. It’s not perfect, I was the victim of countless bullies but it taught me to be stronger. Education is different for everybody and hopefully somewhere in that time period they are walking away knowing more than they stared out with.

Over the Falls in a Barrel

2007-08-02T18:44:00.000-06:00

It was a trip to my grandparent’s house in Batavia, NY that changed the date of our wedding anniversary. We were sitting around the table after dinner discussing our wedding plans and telling Oma and Opa that we had already saved up ten thousand dollars for our wedding which was just over a year away. Opa, being the staunch rigid German that he was, stated that it was quite a lot of money, maybe you should elope instead and use the money for a house.

Well this was a revelation, eloping had never occurred to us. It seemed to make perfect sense. The two of us talked about it the rest of the night off and on. We woke early the next morning and my fiancé Lisa looked at me and said, “so are we doing this?” I asked if she was sure, she assured me she was and the decision had been made.

We gathered our things, wrote a note that we were going to Niagara Falls and that we’d see them tomorrow and we were off. An hour later we were at the falls and found a motel room. Not knowing how to go about this we checked the phone book and noticed a listing for the chamber of commerce. They instructed us to go to city hall for a license which we had to wait overnight for and there was no blood test. They also scheduled the ceremony for an inside arboretum adjacent to the mall.

We had some time so we shopped for wedding clothes since we were unprepared for this moment when we drove to New York State in the first place. Lisa chose a simple white dress with back polka dots and I picked a new blue shirt with complementing tie. Next we walked to the Falls. There was so much electricity in the air. We had a secret that no one else knew about.

The sun was slowly falling over the cascading water as we walked hand in hand on the Canadian side to the rooftop restaurant. After a starry-eyed dinner we proceeded back to our quarters to await our upcoming nuptials.

We rose early the next morning to have breakfast even though we both had butterflies. We were to be at the arboretum at 10:00 A.M. and we were ten minutes early. The judge was already there and had us complete our paperwork while the Chamber of Commerce representative went into the mall to wrangle up two witnesses, a mother and daughter from Canada.

It was all very quaint. Two strangers for witnesses pulled from the mall, a judge in a black robe chanting the vows, a custodian taking pictures and us standing in the middle of a small pond on an island-type structure in disbelief that we would be married in several heartbeats. A small crowd grew around us and all of a sudden the judge said, “you may kiss the bride,” and it was over.

Congratulations came from all around. Well wishers who just happened through at that time of the morning shook our hands and smiled. Slowly our congregation dispersed to continue with their daily routine. Our daily routine had now changed forever. We strolled around as husband and wife for a bit breathing in our new status. We gazed upon the falls one last time before taking our exit from our secret marriage grotto.

We drove back to my grandparents and gave them the news but they had already anticipated it. All the other family had no idea and over the next several days it would be fun telling them and the friends, all of whom thought we were joking at first, even with the marriage certificate in hand.

We did buy a house with the saved money and our first child was born less than one month before our first anniversary. Most people want to share their wedding day and we thought we wanted to also but that special memory just for the two of us lives in only our hearts and we decided we liked it that way.

Gilligan Had Happy Days When He Took the Loveboat to Fantasy Island

2007-08-01T20:28:00.000-06:00

I had very few friends as a child. I was an outcast due to my inability to play sports and my more matured nature. My father was not the most sensitive creature and my mother always seemed busy. I had two siblings but my sister was five years younger than I and my brother had friends.

The one best friend I did have though was the television. It was a behemoth encased in black that lived in a bedroom that I shared with my younger brother. It was black and white with tubes glowing and had to warm up. It received seven stations, the three major networks, two local stations and PBS. The remote control involved how fast I decided to get up and switch the channels. It was a hand-me-down from some relative in the Bronx who could actually afford a new TV.

I would get up in the morning and switch it on while I dressed for school. I would come home from school and watch while doing my homework until dinner was ready. After dinner I would vegetate there until bed time and while in bed I would turn it on with the sound off to the same station my parents were watching in the next room. Saturday mornings were of course special because of the omnipotence of cartoons and occasionally we would all board mom and dad’s king size bed for family watching. I could recite the TV Guide schedule at will and was proud of it.

The Brady’s, the Partridges, the Cunningham’s were all my friends. I could always rely on them to be there for me when I needed somebody. Captain Stubbing took me to new places while Fantasy Island gave me magic to believe in. Threes Company gave me some adult insights while Fonzie watched over Milwaukee and I hoped me as well. I Love Lucy made me laugh while Little House on the Prairie gave me insight. All these shows and many, many more contributed to my growing up the way I did.

While I was in high school we got our first color TV. It was placed in my parent’s bedroom and was mostly off limits to us kids. My senior year we finally got cable and were exposed to thirty stations which seemed like a dream come true. Today I have friends and family that do not involve a remote control and teach me about the same things just live action.

My old friends on the little screen are still there for me though. The old and the new teach me, keep me informed, make me laugh and most importantly are always there at a moments notice.

It’s Ok, I’m With the Band

2007-07-31T21:59:00.000-06:00

The summer of 1979 I was a nerdy kid with glasses and a bad haircut spending my last summer before high school as a supervisor at the local summer day camp. Upon coming home one day I found a letter from the high school band director. I was to attend something called “band camp” in one week. I had no idea when I signed up for band that it would cut into my summer. I didn’t want to go but somehow my father talked me into it.

It was held at the high school. I arrived on my first day, clarinet and bagged lunch in hand, at eight in the morning with scores of other people. Being a freshman meant not knowing very many people and harassment from the upper classman, even if they were band geeks as well.

Us newbies all clung together on one side of the band room trying to stay as small as possible. The band director appeared asking us to sit in our seats by instrument played and he rattled off each section and pointed. Woodwinds were in the front, clarinets to the left. That’s when I noticed Marshall. We were in the same homeroom in middle school and he was a familiar face. I grabbed the seat next to him not possibly knowing at that moment in time that a life-long friendship was about to be born.

We exchanged obligatory niceties and then turned our attention to the band director. This was marching band season and we were assigned to four-person squads. Marshall and I were assigned together. For the next week we would be constant companions, but it was at lunch that first day where we took our first step down the road of the next twenty-five plus years.

I can’t recall the exact details but somehow we both ended up in the courtyard where it was quiet. Marshall was smarter than I was but he never once made me feel inferior. Neither of us had that many friends or athletic ability. That was enough of a common denominator for us to start forming a bond.

We spent a great deal of time together over the next four years in band among other things. He was one of the people who got me through high school. He’s one of the people I would still do anything for.

Most people have at least one friend like this in their lives. I was lucky enough, and am still lucky enough, to have more than one still in my life. I hope my three kids are lucky enough to find life-long friends early in life as I did. As they say, I get through it with a little help from my friends.

You Can Take it to The Bank

2007-07-30T22:17:00.000-06:00

It was a bright fall day in 1989 when my yet-to-be bride, Lisa, strolled in the door of Broadway Bank in Paterson, NJ and asked me for a deposit slip. She was wearing a tan raincoat with the belt tied simply in the front. Her chestnut hair tied back in a ponytail and her blue eyes sparkling like a placid lake. What blew me away though was her smile. It lit the entire lobby like a thousand stars and I imagined it was just for me.

I handed her the deposit slip silently and she proceeded to the tellers counter. I hurried back to my desk and called the teller at that window. Lisa was leaning on the teller’s counter and both her hands were visible so I asked the teller to see if she had a ring on. The teller misunderstood me and asked Lisa if she was married instead. Lisa turned around to examine the lobby and desk area and asked, “who wants to know?” Without missing a beat the teller pointed right at me and said, “that guy over there.”

Before she had a chance to focus on me I was under my desk trying to dig a hole to China. Lisa was very shy so rather than confront me she left, looking over at my desk several times before finally going. After having words with the teller (who later on I was very grateful too…) I broke several federal privacy laws by pulling her signature card from the files and getting her office phone number.

She answered the phone and I explained who I was. I said, “since the teller already embarrassed me would you like to go for lunch?” We had our lunch date and then the movie date and then the dinner date and eventually the wedding date.

We were married nine and half years when she passed away in December of 1999 due to breast cancer. She was thirty-six years old. I miss her dearly every day, especially when I look at my two boys, now thirteen and sixteen. In the immediate days after her passing I had to tell the boys the “bank story” over and over, among others, as their bedtime stories. It was their favorite. It’s my favorite. It helps keep her alive in my mind and spirit when I need her most.

Broadway Bank is defunct now and we no longer live in New Jersey but I can see that bank lobby clear as day when I close my eyes. Lisa’s smile will live on in our sons and someday their smiles will create memories for some lucky girls. Memories are the key to the past and many times you have to unlock that door to see the future.

Father Dearest

2007-07-29T23:25:00.000-06:00

My father passed away suddenly several years ago at the age of fifty-seven. He was a simple blue collar kind of guy raised in the fifties and married early as was the cultural acceptance of the time. He had a good heart buried deeply inside but mostly he was things that I won’t go into.

For many years I hated him. On some level I guess I still do. But one thing I have now that I didn’t have previously is experience. His biggest defeat was depression. Not something that was widely known about to the average human being twenty-five years ago.

Often I though he was just some uneducated S.O.B who didn’t care enough about his family to better himself and in turn make all our lives better. Of course as a youth, especially an American youth, there is no realization that the world could be anything but wonderful to adults, especially your parents.

I swore, as most of us probably do, that I would be nothing like my father. Ha! There are certainly things that I have changed for the better but some parental characteristics are so ingrained on the DNA that they simply cannot be removed. All I can hope for is that as it travels down the gene pool it will it be watered down to its eventual non-existence.

I didn’t miss my dad when he died. I really wasn’t even sorry he was gone. Time wore on and changes in my own life changed my perspective on daddy dearest. I still disagree with many things that he did but I understand why they could have happened and how he may have not been able to deal with it. Life is harder than anyone ever tells you it is and nobody gives you a clue of how to handle it.

I’m still not sure if I miss him but every once in a while I’ll want to call him with a new joke or tell him something the kids did. Now I can think back on my childhood and remember more than just the times that I’d like to forget. I understand pop, and maybe you weren’t such a bad guy after all.

Writing Contest

2007-07-28T22:35:00.000-06:00

I entered a short story contest today. We had twenty-four hours to write no more than 1050 words based on the below topic paragraph:

Mosquitoes buzzed, but kept their distance as the aroma of insect repellent overpowered the smoke coming from the dying campfire. The counselor was getting to the good part of the ghost story and the campers were all quiet, straining to hear the raspy whispers of the protagonist. The sudden sound of footsteps approaching on the pine needle carpet silenced the group. All heads turned simultaneously and the little girls screamed when a man emerged from the tree line, dressed in torn clothing and carrying a pack. The pack started to move as an infant's startled cry joined the panicked chorus...

Based on the above you will find my 1009 word entry below. I hope you enjoy it! Results will be announced in about a month. I'll let you know.

Cyclops

The campers instinctively moved away from the ragged man, stepping backwards towards the safety of a nearby boy’s only cabin. One of the eight-year old boys stepped closer to the man with the bag thinking it was part of the show. Willie Berman, the head counselor, reached out of the shadows and pulled him back quickly. Willie knew this man was not part of the normal ghost story process at Camp Chino in the Central Arizona Mountains. He’d been head counselor for two years now, a counselor for two years before that, a junior counselor for one year and previous to that he’d been a camper since he was eight. The story rotated every third summer to keep it somewhat fresh. This year’s story was about bloody Mary.

Twenty-one-year old Willie studied the man standing before his group. He was diminutive in size with uncharacteristically wide shoulders which currently sagged. Even in the diminishing light of the dying campfire Willie could see blood trickling from the man’s forehead. His hair was snow white and his body bedraggled.

“Matt, take the kids to the main hall,” he whispered to his most senior counselor and long time friend on his left. “Tell them this was something we tried that didn’t work and everything is ok. Try to be quick about it.”

Matt Jablow nodded and began gathering the kids while other counselors jumped in to help with the confusion.

Willie waited until the last child had been led away before approaching the mysterious man who had stayed still as a statue this whole time. It seemed like hours but in reality it was less than three minutes. The unknown man suddenly dropped to his knees, the bag containing the assumed baby hit the ground with a thud and the baby’s cry grew louder.

Willie continued his descent on the man just as he completed his fall to the ground. He rushed to the now horizontal man and cradled his head with one arm while grabbing the canvas bag with the other. Hoisting the bag Willie estimated its weight at about six or seven pounds.

For the first time the man spoke startling Willie. Struggling to lift his head the man spoke hoarsely gasping for air, “the child,” he paused to cough, “must be presented…” He stopped abruptly, his eyes rolled back in his head showing only dull white. He sighed heavily once and his chest stopped moving. It didn’t matter. Willie knew this day would come and he knew what must be done.

This diversion meant that he had just been activated and his orders were now valid. After years of silence and waiting his time had come. The U.S. civil war had been underway for several years now and the upheaval and chaos that ensued equaled opportunity.

He drew the sack closer to him and opened it. He removed the electronic recorder spewing crying infant noises, such an infuriating sound, activated the self-destruct mechanism and placed it on the ground. The device belched white smoke and slowly disintegrated from the internal acid bomb.

Next he removed the second item, the Cyclops, so named because it looked like a face with one giant eye. One flip of the switch reversed polarity of anything within one thousand feet creating havoc and shutting down all electronic systems not to mention magnetizing all metal objects which literally tore themselves apart being attracted to each other. Its only drawback was that it could not be activated remotely. Any use of this device was an automatic suicide mission. Willie had made his peace with that long ago.

He looked to the east. Under the full moon the peak of May’s bluff could be seen with a blanket of stars as its canvas. Beyond that peak was the largest nuclear plant this side of the Mississippi. This was Cyclops’s destination. Destroying this facility would eliminate any enemy soldiers in a thousand mile radius, and of course all other living things. These were the toils of war he told himself.

He hurriedly placed Cyclops back into the bag knowing that Matt had most likely notified the ranger station. He rose and without looking back headed east. The full moon was no coincidence. This date was picked carefully so he could find his way easily to his final fate.

After hiking for several hours Willie crested the mountain peak and looked into the valley below. The moon light revealed a gigantic complex completely fenced with ten-foot brick walls topped with razor wire. Guard towers adorned four corners of the wall and there were several out buildings on the outskirts surrounding the main building. The main building looked to be several football fields long and just as wide. At the far end of the campus lie the cooling towers standing watch silently over the hills.

Willie quickly stumbled down the hillside so he could place Cyclops before sun up. He reached the wall without being seen and headed for his target, the cooling towers. The towers were within one thousand feet of the fence which meant he did not have to scale the brick.

Reaching his destination out of breath he knelt down to power up the unit. Before he could do this the previously quiet atmosphere erupted with cheering and yelling. Willie stopped and listened. The PA system crackled and then a voice excitedly announced, “attention, attention! Five minutes ago a truce was signed in New York. I repeat a truce has been signed. The war is over!”

Willie was stunned. He had almost killed millions of people had he just been several minutes earlier. As per his training he picked up and got the hell out of there heading for the nearest safe house for debriefing.

“Looks like he took the bait,” Matt said from the guard tower as he set down the binoculars. “Now send somebody out to kill the son-of-a-bitch,” he ordered, “and get me the Cyclops.”

Matt took a cigar from his breast pocket and lit it. He looked out over the mountains and laughed heartily.

Living The Dream

2007-07-27T17:58:00.000-06:00

Do you love what you do for a living? Do you even like it? Or do you just tolerate it for the paycheck? I’ve never loved any of my career paths. I’ve almost liked several but truthfully, most of them were just money trains that many times derailed.

When we’re children we have dreams of what we want to be when we grow up. It’s a favorite question among adults to ask youngsters. Children spout out things like cowboy, ballerina, astronaut, baseball player, president and some of them may actually catch their dreams.

When I was a tot I wanted to be a lawyer, then a chef and finally an architect. I became none of those things. I didn’t exactly have the greatest role models at home either but that really wasn’t the problem. My biggest problem was not discovering my passion until it was too late. By the time I finally discovered what I really loved and that I had gained the courage to go out and grab it I had a family to support. Dreams take a backseat to paying the mortgage and feeding the kids.

One day though, the childhood wishes of the past will move back up to the front seat. And when that occasion occurs I will drive full force in that direction before it becomes too late again.

Two for the Road

2007-07-26T16:50:00.001-06:00

Have you ever had a person change your life but you didn’t realize it until much later? I have had many fine people drift in and out of my life but there are two who stand out against the crowd.

The first was my high school band teacher, Joe Zajac. I was considered a big nerd when I was young and was on the receiving end of many a bully’s tirade. This was almost a daily event until my freshman year of high school. I never had many friends and had no athletic ability to speak of. Being in Marching Band made me part of a group and many participants in that group were like me. I finally belonged somewhere.

This alone was probably enough to save my high school career from being an extended vacation in hell but Joe made it even better. He was always there with encouragement and small responsibilities that drew me out and gave me a sense of self. He also made it all fun. Every year we had a band dinner awards banquet. There were participation awards, most improved awards and so on. There was also the band director’s appreciation award which was a small scholarship awarded to two seniors. I’ll never forget the hush that fell over the room when he called my name for the second award. I was not even considered a contender let alone a possible winner. He beamed as he took my still trembling hand. It was a small moment almost twenty-five years ago but I’ll never forget it or him.

The second person coincidentally entered my life senior year, just as Joe was leaving it. I met Ron MacFarland, the director of our spring musical, Pippin. He was similar to Joe in many ways and carried it through until after I was married with children of my own.

I was assistant stage manager with a small part. Ron knew I'd rather be on stage than backstage but I was too introverted to even consider larger parts. After I graduated from high school I worked for him on the weekends, he ran a children’s theater program. Whatever needed doing backstage I was there and every once in a while he'd give me small walk on parts telling me, "the kids like having you on stage".

Eventually the parts got bigger until I finally landed several leads. It took a lot of years but he was there for me the whole time. It turned out that acting was what I really wanted to do the whole time but by then it was too late, I was already married with a two year old. I only lost touch with him recently but I think of him often.

To this day I don't think either one of them has any idea of the effect that they had on my life but I'll always remember them fondly and I'll always be grateful.

To Catch a Predator

2007-07-25T13:28:00.000-06:00

I’ve heard bits and pieces about this show but I’ve never seen it. This week I happened to catch most of an episode in between surfing for reruns. Stunned is the only way I can describe the way I felt.

Trolling for children on the internet is hurtful enough but then taking that one step further to an actual meeting is just vile. Grown men wanting to have sex with a thirteen year-old girl is wrong and these men not knowing that fact is more than upsetting.

It’s amazing to me how these men act when Chris Hansen steps out and starts asking questions. They say they weren’t going to do anything or they didn’t know the girl (decoy) was only thirteen. Then Chris shows them their chat room transcripts. These predators want to get out of there quickly unaware that law enforcement is waiting in the wings to question them.

A side of this story that goes untold is what of the real thirteen-year old girls who are hooking up with predators? Why can they be coerced? Is it ignorance? Trouble at home? Attention? Curiosity? Perhaps the situation should be reversed to bring it to the attention of parents. Here is what your child is doing on the internet, did you have any idea?

Empty Nest Syndrome

2007-07-24T14:05:00.000-06:00

My nest has been mostly empty for the last several weeks. My daughter and her mother have been visiting relatives in New Jersey since early July and my boys are at a summer Upward Bound program. Usually they’re home on the weekends but this is their last week and they always take a trip to a nearby university (New Mexico this time) so I have been totally alone for over a week now.

At first it was very lonely but then I started to get used to it. Coming home from work and no souls in the house for a few hours wasn’t so bad. Spending an entire weekend without anybody clamoring for some kind of attention was sobering. As much as I miss all the kids this new found freedom is a thing of beauty. I can come and go as I please, I can eat when I like, I never have to wait for the washing machine and the TV is always free. This is paradise lost!

But every time I go out it never fails that I see a little girl scampering around behind her mother who reminds me of my Becca. She has this way of climbing on my lap while I’m working at my desk. She just worms her head under my arm, even if I’m typing away, and works her way up until I have this clinging child sitting in my lap. Then I ask her how she got there and she giggles and squeezes harder. I start to tickle her, which is all she wanted in the first place.

My middle guy Joey always wants to play games, mostly poker. “Wanna play a game?” He’ll ask while draping his whole upper body over my shoulder while I’m at my desk. What is it about my desk? His favorite thing is video games or watching “Friends.” I let him watch it because I love to hear him laugh.

My oldest Mike has his license now and is more independent than ever, not needing his father as much these days. Although once in a while he will come seek counsel on the pains of teenagedom. It’s nice to know that I’m a viable source for him even though I know I’m not his first choice. He’s off to college in a year and the exodus begins.

A quiet castle has its times and my need for relaxation has come to a head in these recent months. One day though, sooner than I am comfortable with, my kingdom will be permanently silent except for the occasional visit to grandpa’s house. The birds will have flown the coop for nests of their own so this dodo bird better enjoy them as much as possible when they all get back.

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day…

2007-07-23T14:06:00.000-06:00

Rainy season has started here in the Central Arizona mountains. When we first moved here four years ago I was lured by the claim of "over 300 sunny days a year." I’m not a sun worshipper but 300 sunny days a year sounded pretty good to me, in theory at least.

We arrived just as monsoon season was starting giving us a false impression of the truth. During the rainy season there are spectacular displays of lightning and booming thunder claps that ricochet off the mountain peaks. Rivers of water flow everywhere since the drought ridden earth cannot drink it up fast enough. High winds and occasionally hail add to the dramatic light show. Some storms march through quickly while others linger with a steady rain that has a chance to quench the earth’s thirst.

Then it stops. Hardly a cloud at all adorns the endless blue of the sky. One month passes, no rain, two months pass, no rain, three months, still no rain. Theory now turns to reality and I understand how the people of Seattle must feel, just in reverse.

Now I look forward to the rainy season. I watch the storm clouds pile up against the distant peaks and wonder in which direction they will wander. I sit on the patio and watch the free laser show as electricity streaks across the sky dancing from cloud to cloud. I anticipate the pitter patter of every rain drop as gravity sends it to earth. And to add to the enjoyment a rainbow usually makes its entrance at some point. I didn’t realize that I would miss rain this much. I didn’t realize how many things I would miss…

Laughter is the Best Medicine

2007-07-22T11:16:00.001-06:00

Sometimes you just need a good guffaw to get through the day. If laughter didn’t exist the world would be a pretty dry place. Just pick up a newspaper or watch the news and it becomes quite evident that a laugh can be needed just to get through it all.

I’d be curious when the first joke was told. Did prehistoric man have jokes? “Hey grog, why’d the pterodactyl cross the road? To get to the other side.” Then we move to Rome where the great dream was to play at Caesar’s Palace (thank you Mel Brooks).

Were court jesters the first stand up comedians? We’ve come a long way since then. Uncle Milty to Bill Cosby to Rosanne to Richard Pryor. They cover the gamut of all genres. It’s a good thing too because laughter really is the best medicine.

Farewell Harry Potter...

2007-07-21T12:23:00.000-06:00

Harry Potter has finally arrived! I’ve been looking forward to the book and the movie for months now. It’s hard to say what these books mean to me. As much as I’ve enjoyed the books myself over the years I’ve also enjoyed sharing them with my boys.

My oldest, all of eight at the time, read the first one and was hooked from that very moment. I don’t even recall where he got it from but I do remember being curled up with him at bedtime reading them together. He complained that I read too slowly. My younger son hasn’t read them all yet but loves them just the same. He enjoys the movies and video games more that the books. Both have been Harry Potter for Halloween at least once and my older boy will get the book today before I will… I'll look forward to reading them with my daughter when she's ready.

I never expected to fall in love with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Dumbledore, or any of the others. Nor did I ever imagine that I, as a middle-aged muggle, would fantasize about visiting Hogwarts or Diagon Alley. Being able to escape reality in this way, even for a short amount of time, has such benefits. It’s brought reading back to an entire generation who were becoming lost in the computer age.

The trials and tribulations of Harry and the gang parallel life in ways that young adults understand. War, evil, death, fear, friendships and triumphs are all just parts of the wizarding world. They may be on much more earthly levels but these events happen every day, not only in our children’s worlds but in ours as well.

J.K. Rowling has given Harry to the world to enjoy and explore. I, for one, would like to thank her for the amazing journey. I will truly miss Harry and Dumbledore’s Army taking on the evil’s of the world without question and knowing full well what could happen. I bid you a fond adieu Harry and to J.K. Rowling, I hope you fall in love with a new idea very soon…

Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

2007-07-20T12:56:00.000-06:00

My children would never lie to me. I used to think that, in the back of my mind at least when I was younger and less experienced. You can teach them right from wrong until you’re blue in the face but their urge to not be in trouble almost always wins over.

As I think back on my youth I had the same philosophy. Of course in those days I would meet with the back of my father’s hand instead of being grounded from my cell phone. In those days we lied to stay alive. But we didn’t lie very often because being caught was much worse than any punishment we could imagine.

My oldest son, who just recently got his drivers license, told me a small fib recently that reminded me of an eventful night that my mother still knows nothing about…

It was the fall of 1982 and I was junior in high school all of sixteen years old. I was a band geek with a bad haircut, worse clothes and average grades. It was discovered that one of the freshman girls was having a party, better than that it was a sleepover.

Well my younger brother and I and several of our friends told our trusting parents that we were sleeping at various friend’s houses. The girls knew we were coming and were all giggles. There was some drinking (not me, I was a goody goody) and one of the girls ran into a sliding glass door because she thought it was open. It was mostly teenage goofing off and there was a lot of Atari playing too.

Around one in the morning we got hungry. This neighborhood was no where near a convenience store. I was the oldest one at the party and had my drivers permit, not a license, just a permit. The hostess and I took her brother’s car to go to 7-11 several miles away. The car broke down about a mile from the house and after several attempts to restart it we reluctantly walked back to the house.

Disappointment swept the room when we walked in with no food. After telling our tale someone suggested that we all go and push the car back. Well at 1:40 in the morning that sounded like quite a reasonable solution. “What if a policeman comes?” Somebody asked. Someone else answered, “let’s just start speaking in our foreign languages and pretend we’re foreign exchange students.” Another problem diverted.

So out the door we go, over a dozen teenagers in the middle of the night practicing foreign languages in their heads. We get to the car and I suggest trying to start it one more time. I slide the key in with great anticipation and lone and behold it starts right up. Everyone tries to get into the car but I decide it’s better not to put any extra weight in the car and make them walk back. We all made it back safe and sound (well maybe not sound) and crashed until morning, actually it may have been afternoon.

Kids will be kids I suppose. As long as they are safe life goes on and they will learn from all experiences, especially stupidity. The best part is I can watch them go through it when they have kids of their own…

Rites of Passage

2007-07-19T23:24:00.000-06:00

Just over five weeks ago my sixteen-year old son passed his drivers test and received his license to operate a motorized vehicle in the state of Arizona. Or in simpler terms, OH CRAP! This is one of several exciting rites of passage in store for him over the next several years including high school graduation and then college.

Technically he may think he’s going through these events alone but he isn’t. I get to go through them with him. Of course he doesn’t see it that way and he won’t until he has children of his own to come full circle. And of course I’ve already been through these events, so my passage consists of observation and immense satisfaction as he climbs the ladder of life.

Time marches on as the saying goes but in so many instances it seems to sprint instead of march. His journey will speed up as the years pass but he’ll be to busy to notice. By the time he does notice his own child will be getting a drivers license. Then I get to observe again, this time from an even different perch which I have not yet reached.

Knowledge and Understanding...

2007-07-18T11:56:00.000-06:00

Knowledge and understanding. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that we have either of these skills. People’s knowledge is of course limited to what they let themselves be taught or in many cases what they choose to believe.

For instance some people choose not to believe in the holocaust no matter what evidence is presented. Some people still think that NASA staged the moon landing in a warehouse. Knowledge is what you make of it, if your source is reliable.

Ahh, the source. Now comes the tear in the fabric. Who do you believe? Great question with no good answer. People tend to believe what they want to believe. Plus, we as Americans, are not well versed in the affairs of the rest of the world. Where does this arrogance come from? That Americans think we know best for ourselves? And for the rest of the world for that matter?

Then in many other cases we go from arrogance to ignorance. People just don’t want to pick up a newspaper or listen to the news. Other people in trouble around the world? Who cares as long as I have my beer and my cable is working so I can watch The Simpsons or find out who the next American Idol is going to be. How did this nation become so selfish and self involved?

Reading about things going on around the world just makes me sick to my stomach sometimes. Is that what keeps people from the news? The reality of it all. The below picture is several years old but speaks volumes of truth for many people...

Been a while

2007-06-07T14:42:00.001-06:00

I have not written in a while so I thought I should jot something down for prosperity sake. I've been writing a book for a while now. I have a literary agent who thinks it can be sold. It is somewhat exciting and scary at the same time. It's not finished so now I have to sit down and finish it and make sure it makes some kind of sense. That's the scary part.

There are so, so many writers out there now that I have a confidence issue going on with myself. But I figure if there's a professional out there who thinks it can be sold who am I to disagree? We'll see what happens.

Tom Poston passed away recently. I enjoyed his work very much and was quite sad when I heard the news. I was sad when Bob Denver (Gilligan) died also. It kind of felt like my past was slipping away.

Wally Schirra also passed away recently. His accomplishments should never go unnoticed. Too many great Americans slip away unnoticed in our society. Memorial day reminds me of that every year. This picture rang a bell in me that I cannot completely describe, I will leave you with it and hope you all remember the great people who let you live the way you do now...

Timeless

2007-04-08T18:14:00.000-06:00

Born of love they emerge from the darkness
Knowing nothing of the world they begin to mature
Creeping, crawling, walking, falling
Life stretched out at their feet

Age is useless
Time passes pure
Breathless youth calling
For wisdom to be complete

The sprint from dawn to sunset
Slows as experience grows to meet the need
True wisdom is reached
When you realize you know nothing at all

Childish memories we begin to forget
Unexpected maturity we begin to concede
Responsibility grows as our elders preached
Commutes and living in urban sprawl

Taxes, car repairs, School plays, little league, braces
Youth is now in the eye of the beholder
Our seedlings breaking through to feel the warm sunlight
Life stretched out at their feet

Looking into their little faces
Before our eyes our winter fades colder
As their spring blooms full and bright
And the everlasting circle will again repeat…

The Astronaut Farmer goes to Tarabethia

2007-03-10T20:02:00.000-07:00

In the last several weeks I’ve seen the movies, Bridge To Tarabethia and The Astronaut Farmer. Both movies inspired me at a time when inspiration seemed to be thing I’d never have again. The minute I got home from Tarabethia I sat down and wrote for several hours which I hadn’t done in several months. I also ordered the book which I finished reading today just to be inspired all over again, and I still want to see the movie again. It reminded me of so many things. Things I always knew and lost along the way and will probably lose again. To remember life goes on. To just believe, doesn’t matter in what. The Astronaut Farmer reminded me not to quit, that nobody takes your dreams away.

Now of course something will most likely happen or the feeling will just fade but it’s a nice feeling. And of course these are scripts that have no bearing on reality at all. But I’ve had the feeling for two weeks and that’s a record for the recent present.

Do people really get their dreams anyway? I wonder what the percentages are. I’d bet it’s actually pretty low. A lot of people get busy with their lives and their dreams just disappear while they’re not watching. Where do the dreams live? Where do the dreams live… I want to go there, where the dreams live…

Life?

2007-02-15T22:05:00.000-07:00

Tired
   Senseless
      Lost
            Hopeless
                    Lonely
                                 Death
How did I get here?

Cry…
   Cry…
      Cry…
Live…

Hope Fades Away...

2007-02-01T22:57:00.000-07:00

Letting the world wash over me
I bathe in the glory of life
The everlasting soul cleansed in immortality
The veil of darkness looms overhead

Storm clouds march across the blue canvass
Heaven turns toward hell
The battleground has been baptized
Life withers away as the sunlight fades

And it is gone…

New Year, New Beginning...

2007-01-06T18:41:00.000-07:00

One of the women in the bar scene in "Forest Gump" comments that she loves New Years because it's like starting all over with a clean slate. Is it really a clean slate or is just another day? Do your bills drop to zero? Do your grades start over? Do people's feelings go neutral and start again? Seems to me it's just a state of mind where you get the fresh start. Question is where does this state of mind come from?

I've been unable to find this state for some time now... I used to live in that state but then was forced to move and haven't been back since. Have they closed the state perhaps? Or am I just driving around in circles?

Then I wonder about all the peolpe around the world who truly need a fresh start and if they've gotten it? Their fresh starts includes food, water, clothing and shelter. That's not a state of mind, it's a state of situation. One that they cannot drive away from...

Do I feel guilty that I have so much more than them? Or do I bitch becasue I can't afford that 42 inch flat screen plasma tv? Do I change my entire life to help the less priveledged or do I try to get everything I want? Which is the fresh start..