The Right Rev Rap Masta Cornflake

The unbearable lightness of blog.

2005-10-16T15:38:00.000-07:00

Robin Williams said it perfectly, "Reality, what a concept."

The notion that the way some people perceive their own existence and define it as “reality” can be a difficult thing to comprehend. That's the way it is, however. Each of us blends together our experiences, trained responses to stimulus and the effects it has on us and calls it reality. It really goes way beyond simple categorization of sensory input, but that’s how modern science qualifies it.

If three people are standing on a street corner and a bird flies close by each experiences the event differently, but reality had NOTHING to do with their sensory input. They all saw it. They all heard the sound of the air as the bird flapped its wings. They all smelled the exhaust of the diesel truck as it passed. They all felt the hot sun. Their finite senses relayed the event and their brains transferred the flow of information from the incoming impulses into recorded memories and filed them neatly away.

However, one person’s reality did NOT match another’s.

One saw the flight pattern the bird was navigating and predicted, exactly, what direction the bird would bank and how much yaw or roll would pitch the bird’s body into an updraft that carried it just over the two story building across the street. She filed the information away and wanted to be able to pilot the little twin engine airplane her instructor let her borrow to mimic the bird’s motions. She hoped that later that night she’d dream about flapping her own wings and soar above the Earth. She wondered if, maybe, she’d been a bird in another life. That was reality.

Another actually felt the unborn child wrapped in a thin shell that the bird carried within it and smiled at the thought that his lovely wife carried their own unborn child at that very moment. He said a little prayer for the bird and for his wife asking God for healthy babies and an ease to the suffering that both mothers would deal with during delivery. His heart was overwhelmed with concern for his wife and, at that moment, for the beautiful little bird that had flown by. He smiled and thanked God for His mercy and for sharing a precious moment of love with him. That was reality.

The last was startled by the fact that if that stupid bird hadn’t turned at the last moment it would have ended up flattened against a windshield. He cursed the fact that the small animal didn’t have the brains to stay out of the stinking city. He remembered that he was late for his second job and sighed as he promptly pushed the bird out of his mind and told himself that he had more important things to think about. That was reality.

Do you relate to one of those people? What I’ve recently been trying to tell you is that as you grow, and your mind and heart begin to experience more and more of the world and beyond, you’ll learn to relate to ALL of them. You will actually find that you can understand and, to an extent experience, someone else's reality.

Some of you may wonder why this is important. Why should anyone care about living through the trials, tribulations or experiences of anyone else? Hey, life is about actually living, right? From the moment we become aware that we are, in fact, alive we begin the process of passing through time and moving from one experience to another. Some are noteworthy enough to file into conscious memory. Others, though no less important, get filed away deep in our subconscious. To this day, no scientist has ever been able to find a way to explain these different “perceptions” and their reaction on our brains but, down to the last, they all admit that they exist. Each of us seems to be passing through our own existence, like tiny recorders, soaking up as much of life as possible while we're here.

So are these perceptions reality? Nope. That’s not it either.

“Okay, Rev, where are you going with this?”

I’m so glad you asked! A dear friend of mine wrote to me this week and said that he appreciates the fact that I seem to understand him so well. Since then, I’ve been wondering what that means. Obvious is the fact that we share similarities, but does that explain why I would be able to actually understand him? I don’t think so.

Who are we, so that others can understand us? I know what we’re not. We are not our jobs. We are not our likes and dislikes. We are not our taste in clothes. We are not the food that we eat. We are not the children that we produce. We are not the air we breathe.

I do not believe, as many before me have stated, that we are actually just the sum total of our parts. I’m not contradicting myself, believe me. If you take a battery, a crystal disc, a handful of gears and a leather strap and place them together are they, in fact, a watch? No, until those pieces are arranged in an specific way they are only individual pieces with the potential of being a watch. They are each unique, each essential parts of the whole, but they are not the whole by themselves. Neither is the whole complete without those individual parts. I don’t call a battery or crystal or gear or leather strap a watch. Each part is definitely unique and special with the potential of being more than itself.

We are each individuals with the right to stand by ourselves and be recognized as unique and precious. However, we are all, every one of us, born with unlimited potential to be part of something much bigger. That is a part, a piece, of the unified whole that you may be destined for.

One gear was not originally a gear. It may have been simply a piece of unshaped metal with the potential to be shaped into that gear. Before that it was ore buried deep beneath the Earth with the potential to be refined into that metal. Before that it may have been a meteor that had the potential to strike a little blue planet orbiting around a class 3 yellow star. And so on.

You are not the chemical elements that make up your body. You are not the thoughts that race through your head. You are not the dishes you pick out to give as a gift to a friend on their wedding day. You are not how fast you drive in your car. You are not the gravel you tread on.

Is everything that ticks and tells time a watch? Is that reality? Nope, that isn’t it either.

“Look, Rev, you’re starting to piss me off, get to the point.”

Let me ask you something. Who are you? If anyone asks you that question what comes instantly to mind? Your job? Your children? Your house? Your religion? Your name?

Is that who you are? Is that reality? Nope, still not it.

“Rev, you’re not making any sense.”

Oh, sorry about that. I get sidetracked. I’m trying to give answers but I have so many questions that it’s difficult to address them all. Does a question exist without an answer? Sure, but it has the potential for being answered. Do I exist as a writer without having readers? You bet I do, but that potential is there. Is that reality? Nope, still not it.

Getting back to the quandary of my dear friend… He’s a very wonderful soul and has so much potential. He has achieved some of it and, to a certain point, gets a little overwhelmed when he experiences a glimpse of how much more is there. Is that who he is? Nope.

Is the fact that he perceives my intuitions and love for him reality? Nope, but it doesn’t make any of that less important or valid.

Look, I really am trying to make a point here.

“Finally, Rev, I thought you’d never get to it.”

Ah, but is the end of a story more valid than the beginning or middle? Does the story exist before it has been written? You are not the legacy of your life. You are not your birth or death. You are not the friends you make. You are not the things you create.

Each of us has an innate sense of the things around us that we perceive but those things are more, much more, than the senses that we use to experience them and define them so that we can catalogue them in our limited brains.

The things that affect you do not make you who you are. The things you affect do not define you, either.

I want each of you, reading this, to consider that there is more than you will ever be able to understand at work in our universe. I want so much to help you to understand that it’s not just about the portions you experience and perceive that make it all so wonderful. The people that I’ve learned from have all taught me that happiness, serenity and that giddy sense of joy I was searching for wasn’t meant to be contained only in the resolution I was heading for but was also contained in the search itself and even in the dream of beginning the journey and beyond.

Recently my heart and mind opened up to the appreciation of the infinite mystery. An endless number of questions and limitless potentialities and it has forever changed me. I realized that all I had to do was admit that I would never be satisfied if all I ever wanted was just the individual pieces. They are limited and finite and tangible but they are not all there is.

I really want a haircut.

“That’s it, Rev, I’m convinced. You’ve finally lost it.”

Yeah, isn’t it wonderful? I like wanting a haircut. I like enjoying the fact that my body processes protein compounds into cells that grow out of my head. I like the environmental conditions that create striations in the hair fibers that make these annoying little curls around my ears and make me realize I need to get a haircut. I like wondering if the person with the razor sharp scissors could snap at any second and give Sweeney Todd a run for his money (I have a sick sense of humor, sometimes, I know). I like knowing that the chair I sit in, while the potentially demon barber hacks away at my protein laden striation fibers, is a marvel created by an engineer who took pride in making it. There’s so much more!!! The refinery that produced the gasoline I’m going to burn driving there. The pedestrians I’m looking forward to smiling at and waving to during my trip there. The seemingly endless array of hair care products on glass shelves next to the cash register attended by a bored high school student wondering about the guy she met at a party last night.

Add it all up and enjoy the fact that no matter how much you discover there’s still more. Isn’t it great?

“Rev, you’ve forgotten about your friend, again.”

Nope, not at all.

Dear friend, I love you not because of what you do. I love you not because of how you feel. I love you not because of what you give to me. The truth is that explaining exactly why I love you would be like asking me to explain reality. Love is one of the greater mysteries. No one denies that it exists but we all agree that it does.

So give yourself a few minutes, each day, to expand your heart and mind and appreciate the infinite, the Divine. Know that within you are infinite potentialities, unlimited possibilities, unknowable mystery, countless questions and the effects of a Divine universe that is far beyond your comprehension. Then, consider what I’ve been telling you. The universe thought you were important and essential enough to be here.

It needs you. It wants you. It loves you. Why?

Ah, that’s reality.

“The only two things that inspire me to awe are the infinite universe without and the moral universe within.” ~ Albert Einstein

Sorry, no top ten, this week. Next week for sure.

I wish you all abundant joy!

The final, abridged blog of Mediocre Man!

2005-09-18T14:54:00.000-07:00

The largest ancient cultures built enormous empires around the concepts of honor and maintaining the respect of ones' community. The Japanese took that to the extreme and imposed the harshest penalties on themselves when faced with the prospect of living with dishonor. On days like today, I'm glad that I wasn't born in Japan... especially ancient Japan. Although, I may have been. The celestial jury is still out on that one.

I started writing a long blog that was more of an exercise in feeling sorry for myself than the blunt confession that I'd intended it to be. In the interest of "saving face," and also to prevent me from feeling like hari-kari is my only option, it's been scrapped for a kinder, gentler, sillier blog. We can all breathe a little easier. Go ahead. BREATHE, DAMMIT!

It ticks Jackie off when I do this, but Dictionary.com defines Depression as...

de·pres·sion ( P ) Pronunciation Key (d-prshn) n.

The act of depressing.
The condition of being depressed.
An area that is sunk below its surroundings; a hollow.
The condition of feeling sad or despondent.
Psychology. A psychiatric disorder characterized by an inability to concentrate, insomnia, loss of appetite, anhedonia, feelings of extreme sadness, guilt, helplessness and hopelessness, and thoughts of death. Also called clinical depression.
A reduction in activity or force.
A reduction in physiological vigor or activity: a depression in respiration.
A lowering in amount, degree, or position.
Economics. A period of drastic decline in a national or international economy, characterized by decreasing business activity, falling prices, and unemployment.
Meteorology. A region of low barometric pressure.
The angular distance below the horizontal plane through the point of observation.
Astronomy. The angular distance of a celestial body below the horizon.

Now, which one of those definitions sounds like fun? Hmm? Yeah, this is the first time I've ever even SEEN the word anhedonia, too. Actually, that one sounds like a cleaning product, more than "the absence of pleasure or the ability to experience it." Isn't that usually called death?

Every single one of us, from time to time, gets a little tired and apathetic. Life has a way of wearing you down to the point that even getting out of bed at night to go to the bathroom is cripplingly overwhelming. No, I'm not suggesting that peeing at three o'clock in the morning has brought me to tears. Uh, wait... nope, haven't done that one, yet. It's just that without a sense of humor people find it difficult to accomplish even the most menial of tasks. Getting out of bed to evacuate your bladder is only one example. This week the top ten is a list of things that could overwhelm even the most stalwart soul.

Top Ten Things That Overwhelm Mere Mortals:

10) Applying for a new Social Security card. FDR created a benevolent organization that moderbureaucracycy has placed in the Emerald City at the end of the Yellow Brick Road. There's no place like home, there's no place like...

9) Balancing a budget. I took a bookkeeping class in High School and was told that balancing any budget was simply the steadfast entry of every credit and debit in order to track spending and predict future trends. Horse hockey! Even the federal government freely admits that it's all smoke and mirrors combined with clever marketing. Let me clue you in on a little secret. In Monopoly, the banker always wins.

8) One word: Politics. In ancient Rome the governing officials entertained themselves, and their subjects, by throwing slaves and selected enemies into large arenas to fight to the death. Today, the slaves and enemies are throwing the officials into the gladiator-esque arena of the modern media. Sometimes I think the Romans were far more civilized.

7) Socks in the dryer. Physics can harness the power of the atom but it can't explain why a pair of socks enters a machine with only one door and only one makes it back out again. How many of us still sit and stare at the pile of unmatched orphans and wonders, "Where do they go?" It's possible that some brilliant scientist actually found the answer to that question but it's far too terrifying to ever share with the public. Or that's how they got all those features crammed into your new cell phone...

6) The phone book. Think hard on this one, folks. How many times have you been faced with a simple task like where to get dinner when you don't want to cook and then looked at that giant phone book under the phone? Like most of us, that desire to find the perfect local bistro is suddenly replaced with the rationalization, "McDonald's really isn't all that bad."

5) Owner's manuals. I have yet to meet someone who writes these things for a living. I'm beginning to think that maybe they don't exist. Or, more likely, they don't ever see the light of day. It's far easier to believe that these torturous works of non-fiction are simply the by-product of a desperate inventor's deal with the devil. That's right. Owner's manuals are actually the gateway to hell. Now you know why they must be avoided at all costs.

4) The freeway. I once worked with a man whom I considered to be one of the toughest people I'd ever met. He wasn't bitter, just hardened. The kind of man who'd been in the military during wartime, lived a very hard life and had done and seen things that would make most people curl into a fetal position and suck their thumbs. You know, tough. This same man, when faced with the prospect of taking the freeway suddenly turned into a giant wishy-washy, coward that made Woody Allen look butch. Of course, if I'd ever personally pointed that out to him I'm sure that he would have crushed me like a bug. Isn't the internet wonderful???

3) The pediatrician's office. I have seen the opposite of number four happen to small children when faced with the possibility that they have to go to the doctor. Children, who normally will cry like frightened animals when they are kept at the dinner table and told to eat their spinach, suddenly are willing to silently limp around on half severed limbs in order to avoid getting a shot or face the scary, East German women's wrestling champion with the tongue depressor.

2) Family gatherings. We all know how it feels. Someone in your family has a birthday, anniversary or other celebratory event and it sounds like something worth planning a large gala for until the responsibility for said affair becomes yoursBelugaga caviar at the Ritz turns into pigs in a blanket at the community rec center. Remember this the next time you're listening to cousin Nunzio tell you about his bunion surgery while chewing on canned dough wrapped weenie goodness.

and the number one thing that overwhelms mere mortals:

1) The DMV. I don't even think I need to explain this one. I'm still clueless as to how the people who work there show up every day. The mere contemplation of spending an afternoon being ushered through nothing more than an indoor cattle run makes me wonder why every facility doesn't have a smoky lounge right next to a non-denominational chapel.

Hope you have a great week, all. I have two quotes this week, from the same brilliant man, for all of you who have read my entries in the past and wondered why I put myself through this every week.

"Anyone who proposes to do good must not expect people to roll stones out of his way, but must accept his lot calmly, even if they roll a few stones upon it."

"Man can hardly even recognize the devils of his own creation."

~ Albert Schweitzer

Atlas blogged...

2005-09-11T15:01:00.000-07:00

A very close friend of mine called me this week because I told her how overwhelmingly depressed I've been. I'm too ashamed to share the details of how bad here, but it was bad. She consoled and encouraged me and we laughed and cried. Then the subject of the world today came up and she said, "Sure, Katrina, the war in Iraq, starving children in every corner of the world. That's your fault, isn't it?" I laughed with her and then said, "Atlas, I'm not." Since that conversation I've begun to realize that I've been trying to actually be the mythical son of Clymene and Iapetus, in my own way. My world became a heavy, oppressive thing and I was setting it squarely on my shoulders and mourning my fate. I used be able to physically lift more than I can now but mere exercise won't help me with this burden.

It's a glass half full, half empty perception. It's truly up to each of us to get the most from what we've been given. I can either look outside at the trees just outside my apartment and see them as selfishly growing leaves to soak up as much sun as possible or as beautiful boughs of green that provide me shelter from the hot sun. Even water can be a fearful and overwhelming element in which to drown or a sweet, cool resource that I can use to fill my glass, and my body, with what I need.

Life brings with it the fears all of us experience from moment to moment, from the cradle to the grave. However, change one tiny perception and it's possible to see life as something to provide us with the very reasons to make the journey, put one foot in front of the other and celebrate the joy of squeezing every last drop from every day simply because it's worth the risk, worth the effort.

Atlas himself saw his sentence of supporting the heavens as a prison that he would forever wish to escape from. Instead, he could have realized that what he was actually doing was holding onto the biggest box of blessings that anyone had ever been given. By placing him in that position Zeus had actually shown Atlas that he was up to the task of keeping the Earth safely on his shoulders. Zeus, instead of killing Atlas for his crimes, mercifully gave him the chance to learn from his mistake and become better.

I'm not suggesting delusion, by any means. Like the movie "Life Is Beautiful" that shows how people can sometimes be put in the worst possible situations imaginable and simply pretend that the world is perfect. On the contrary, every wound is a chance to experience healing. Every obstacle is an opportunity to know ourselves a little better and see just how much good we're capable of. Is it, as Voltaire said, "the best of all possible worlds?" No, hell no. Do I honestly believe that it can be? Yes, I do. All it takes is a miniscule amount of faith, hope and the will to make a difference. Then even the biggest disaster of all time becomes yet another chance to grow, learn, and raise the vibrations of the entire world.

Yes, Katrina was a terrible storm and the citizens of New Orleans have suffered in the devastating aftermath. But, it makes my heart so glad to see the ways that so many people have responded. I read a terrific story about nurses who petitioned the home health organization they worked for and, in large groups, brought donated medical supplies to the gulf coast region. Another WONDERFUL story about three little girls from DC, ages 14, 11 and 8, who started Project Backpack to send things like coloring books, games and reading materials to children from New Orleans who had lost everything. Even local talk-radio stations, that normally focus on bashing government officials and highlighting the negative aspects of society, have turned to fund raising and made me realize that the milk of human kindness still flows. Katrina may be an open wound that has brought into focus just how flawed the country we live in really is but it's also been the impetus to show that what the Dalai Lama said when he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989 is still true today.

"No matter what part of the world we come from, we are all basically the same human beings. We all seek happiness and try to avoid suffering. We have the same basic human needs and concerns. All of us human beings want freedom and the right to determine our own destiny as individuals and as peoples. That is human nature."

Your brothers and sisters are suffering, just like you, and they want to be happy. Look closely at what the Dalai Lama said. "We all SEEK happiness and TRY to avoid suffering." By that simple statement His Holiness shares that finding happiness and avoiding suffering are acts of effort following simple motions of will. Happiness doesn't arrive one day and decide to move in with you. Suffering is all around you and you have to work at making sure that it doesn't run into you. Keep moving, put one foot in front of the other, take the risk and keep your eyes open. More importantly, keep your heart open. Before I end this blog with my signature top ten I'm going to share the secret to happiness. That's right, there's a secret and it's beautifully simple and eloquently stated, again, by His Holiness, the Dalai Lama.

"If you want to make others happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy... practice compassion."

Each of us has to learn compassion for one another while we try to find something that I've been lacking lately but am beginning to understand... compassion for ourselves.

Okay, this week the extremely irreverent top ten is going to be a tribute to government in action. All of us know that when presented with a crisis or need our government responds by creating another charity committee or governing board to oversee the resolution of that problem. Here are some lesser known organizations that you may not have heard of. The truth is, I feel like I need a shower just thinking about them.

The Top Ten Obscure Government Aid Organizations:

10) The Oliver Twist Foundation: They're always willing to help the down and out when they're in need. Just don't ask for seconds.

9) The Cat Ate My Homework Committee: Things like education are vitally important issues but there's always a really good excuse for avoiding them, too.

8) Laughter Is The Best Medicine Association: It's a testament to how far the medical profession as whole has come when you can find ways to treat the sick by exposing them to other people who really are FAR sicker.

7) I Gave At The Office: This organization exists solely to salve every American's conscience by pointing out that every time you pay your taxes you're donating your hard earned pay to keep your government from going broke. Now, don't you feel better?

6) Revenge Of The Nerds, Incorporated: This started out as a private corporation but is now a global charity dedicated to keeping homely introverts from finding out that they really do run the entire world.

5) World Hate Organization: This helpful band of volunteers is a little known sub-group of the World Health Organization committed to lowering the planet's blood pressure by focusing biases on insignificant and almost harmless annoyances... like mimes.

4) Paparazzi Relief Fund: Like the Farmer's Aid groups that provide needed funds to farmers in order to prevent over-production of foodstuffs this benevolent institution provides the money needed to pay magazines NOT to hire photographers who think they're Mario Andretti with a camera. We can all feel safer, trust me.

3) Watch Your Step Association: There are animals everywhere who consider the world their private lavatory. Isn't it time the government starting picking some of the stuff up that they've been helping to dish out?

2) The Little Rascals: This is an attempt to deal with gang violence by showing them it's better to form zany cliques filled with other young scamps and channel all that energy into excluding from their groups the real source of their problems... girls.

and the number one obscure government aid organization:

1) Queer Eye For The Poor Guy: Due to the recent success of television decorating shows state and local governments are now convinced that there's no social or financial difficulty that can't be overcome with flamboyant flair and a cat fight broadcast on cable.

I hope that all of you discover that you're a big part of my true happiness. Have a great week.

Here's my quote for the week:

"Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy."
~ Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Buddhist monk nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1967

Fall Of The Iron Blog

2005-08-21T14:10:00.000-07:00

Sorry all. This one seemed important and has been very heavy on my heart. It actually took me two Sundays to write. It's not meant to be entertaining. I hope that it's informative and, even more hopefully, a little uplifiting for each of you in a special way.

So many things have happened in this lifetime. Momentous, life-changing events that each of us views differently. What were you doing when you first learned they were tearing down the Berlin wall? How did you find out about the fall of communism? Did you watch on television as they tore down the statue in the square of a city previously known as Leningrad? Did you see the news reports after Reagan was shot? Did you see the live broadcasts of September 11th in 2001? Did you light a candle or pray while Pope John Paul II lay in his deathbed? Who told you that the Challenger shuttle had exploded shortly after take-off? How did it make you feel when they announced that the folks at Jet Propulsion Laboratories (JPL) were abandoning the multi-billion dollar Mars probe that failed shortly after landing on the red planet?

So many occasions in my thirty-seven years. There's more, much more, just on the horizon. Like the social and political changes of the last twenty-five years the next quarter century is going to be a turbulent, spiritual revolution. The time has come for spiritual awakening and I passionately believe that it's beginning to happen, right now.

Look, I know that this is a heady topic for an unusually irreverent blogger, but it's what has been on my mind during the last two weeks. It's actually been weighing very heavily on me. There are several reasons that I believe all of this so strongly.

For many of you reading this who are tied closely to the mainstream judaeo-christian organizations, like the many that I was raised in, it's this overwhelming sensation that the prophecies that were revealed to John on the Isle of Tarsis during his imprisonment there are close to fulfillment. The tribulation days of Armageddon, as displayed in the book of Revelations, are heartbreakingly tragic because the wrath of God reigns down on the entire Earth in an apocolyptic climax. Many fear God only because of the horrifying images they were "force fed" as children just like the many monster laden fairy tales used throughout history to teach children a "rational" fear of retribution if considering doing wrong. My upbringing included all of this, and more, but I'm now realizing that these "truths" have a deeper and far more loving purpose than I was told about. Luckily, I'm no longer the "milk feeding" type that I was cautioned to avoid being. The more substantial spiritual diet that I'm currently surviving on has given me a compassionate and hopeful perspective. I'm not trying to "convert" ANYONE, here. Honestly. I'll quote two verses from the new testament. The first is I Corinthians 12:14 "For the body is not one member, but many." The other is Romans 11:29 "The gifts and calling of God are without repentance." The reason that I lump those two verses together is because I believe that God is far bigger than one religion and has spoken to many divine souls throughout history. I used to be one who felt that if someone differed with my opinions and beliefs that they weren't worth my time or attentions. I now realize that everyone, from the most insignificant to the most important, has something important to say and must be allowed to voice. If I didn't believe that with every fiber of my being... I wouldn't be writing this blog. One last quote for you to digest before I go on, "And you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free." (John 8:32)

Recently I read a very interesting website that talked about what the Hopi Indians call the Fifth Age of Man. The Hopi believed that the Fourth Age (our current Age) ends when one of their spiritual dancers, called Kachinas, stops dancing in the center of the main plaza and removes his mask in front of the uninitiated children. This blue Kachina, called Saquasohuh, is represented by the emergence or discovery of a blue star in the heavens. They strongly believe, like many others, that the heavens and the Earth are irrevocably linked and that one mirrors the other. The Hopi sing songs during their Wuwuchim ceremony each year. According to their history a specific song prophecying the Saquasohuh and speaking of the disunity, corruption and hatred threatening the Hopi way of life spreading out into the world was sung in 1914, just before WWI, again in 1940, before the US entered WWII and again in 1961 before the beginning of the war in VietNam. The Hopi live in the American southwest and are a part of our history, our heritage.

Not by coincidence, the Hopi prophecy speaks very clearly the predictions made in many native American traditions. The ancient Shashone and on through Lakota Sioux, Cherokee, Navajo and even the isolated Inuit. The most amazing correlation is the similarities, both in timing and composition, with very ancient prophecies about the Age of Aquarius. In Egyptian philosophy the water god Hapi, who was responsible for flooding the Nile every year, was referred to as walking upon the Earth. In both Greek and Roman mythology the water gods were foretold in the stars as becoming dominant.

Okay, so people have predicted that something was going to happen. What does that mean to you and me? Part of the reason that I've been reading about these prophecies and researching this information is to find out more about something that has been happening to me on a very personal level. It's very like something that happens to me every weekday morning. My alarm clock pulls me from the unconscious to the semi-conscious but the thing that gives me the ability to face the day is when I jump in the shower and douse myself in water. Water, the purifying element, that we all depend on more than we realize. It's been such a strong message of both myth and prophecy because of the importance in our lives. Jesus changed water into wine and walked on water. Every psuedo-christian tradition baptizes a person in water to symbolize their spirtual rebirth. In The Diamond Sutras Buddha compares a person's "great awakening" to drinking a glass of pure water. Even in the Vedas the god Brahma, the Creator aspect of God, emerged from the primeval waters and brought all of the creation into existence from those waters.

In my own humble analogy, the alarm signaling that I have to get in the shower and wake up, I'm trying to say that the alarm has been sounded. In some cases, for thousands of years. The water is now upon us. The Age of Aquarius is here. People are beginning to wake up.

I challenge any of you to search the web for yourselves and find references to people having dreams about water, prophecies about torrential rains and floods, the Earth's own baptism because of global warming and the melting of the polar ice and so many other references that it's overwhelming. Personally I believe that all of it is a signal that the drought is over.

How are we waking up? Many people are breaking away from traditional teachings and seeking truth on their own. In today's world of instant access to information it's become commonplace to be able to cross reference the religious books from across time and around the globe. All I have to do is go to my favorite search engine and put in a few words to get a hundred different websites with a hundred different opinions about a hundred different religious truths. Actually, for someone like me who is a bottomless pit of curiousity it's bliss. The main reason that I mention it is that, more and more, I'm starting to see patterns in the chaos. Within the noise, the multitude of voices all speaking at once, a single message seems to be rising above all the rest.

Wake up... it's time to wake up.

Jackie has a very dear friend that she talks with from time to time. We met him because she was trying to find a source for a wonderful, and rare, chrystalline mineral called Phenakite (or Phenacite) for another close friend who has his own kinesiology practice. What she ended up finding was more than just a man who provides all kinds of gemstones and other precious minerals. She found a wonderful person who seems to be just a little bit more evolved than most. He's closely tied to the Lakota Sioux nation and their traditions. However, he just seems to know so many things about the world that can't be explained rationally but can easily be seen as true. Most of the time, that doesn't matter. The things he talks about, like love, compassion and raising the awareness of the human heart, are so basic that it makes us realize that it's not quite so much about changing the entire world as it is about accepting the fact that each of us is a part of that change. He constantly challenges Jackie, and indirectly me, that we're running out of time. His message of the need to raise the consciousness of the world before it's too late mirrors many of the things that we've discovered on our own and through others that we talk to across the internet. The world is on the verge of a colossal, spiritual change.

Sure, people have said this througout the centuries and for most it takes a measure of faith to even see the commonality in many of these things. What would make me believe that my little blog would make any difference? It doesn't. Why would I actually think that I could change things by writing all of this? I don't. So why? I'll tell you... I don't know. In my heart, all I can do is try. I wake up every morning with only one thing on my mind... surviving through the day that I'm presented with because I know there may never be another. I always loved what Theodore Seuss Geisel, known to the world as Dr. Seuss, said. "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

Every day I try to raise my own consciousness just a little bit. I try to love those closest to me a little better. I try to love those around me that I find it hard to love. I meditate, pray and seek God and hope to learn more about every one of the divine faces that are all part of the same creator/god/goddess/universal spirit... mother, father, sister, brother, friend, enemy... every single one of them. I seek to remove my own mental, emotional and spiritual blocks and stretch myself thin so I can listen to the noise of the universe and find the music that will fill my soul and give me the ability to share that music with others.

I can't tell you what that is for each of you. Meditation, prayer, intellectual pursuits, faith, works, the fulfillment of promises, duties or other spiritual contracts you've made with the infinite you've experienced. I follow my own path and, in my limited way, I'm trying to encourage you all to do the same. My message may boil down to this, though. As our good friend says, "We're running out of time." I believe that to be true. Live each day as though tomorrow may never come and you may find that today is enough. Life has never asked more from any of us.

I wanted to end this blog with a big smile and considered making some kind of irreverent top ten. Somehow, it just doesn't seem right. Instead I'm going to provide a list of quotes to, sort of, round out this whole, long diatribe. They're each like little lotus blossoms, the most beautiful of flowers that grows from the muck and slime. Some are from the very young, some the very old but all are yet more examples that it's fitting to great each person you meet with the traditional hindu mantra/mandhu "namaste" which, literally translated, means "I recognize the divine in you." I challenge all of you to do just that, every single day and from now on. Recognize the Divine, no matter where in your life you look you'll find it.

One of my favorites from a little girl who saw hope all around her in the darkest time in human history:

"How wonderful it is that no one need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."
~ Anne Frank

This one is a quote from a victim of the Columbine tragedy:

"Tomorrow is not a promise, but a chance."
~ Rachel Joy Scott

Here's a quote from a giant who lived in the body of a small, truly divine soul:

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."
~ Mahatma Gandhi

The most well-known of the Christian apologetics whose great wisdom and talent was in making the complex startingly simple and personal:

"Human beings, all over the earth, have this curious idea that they ought to behave in a certain way, and can't really get rid of it."
~ C. S. Lewis, A Case For Christianity

And finally a quote from the man I feel had the greatest mind in history coupled with the biggest heart:

"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind."
~ Albert Einstein

Find the divine, people, because it's all around you... and inside of you.

Quick Teahouse Of The August Blog

2005-08-16T20:21:00.000-07:00

This one was removed in the interests of good taste. I'm sorry, gang. I need to write more when I have a clear head.

Love to all,
The Right Rev

Revenge of Bride of Blog...

2005-08-07T18:49:00.000-07:00

Let's see, it's August and my last blog was in February. Six months should be enough time to let the world recover.

I'M BAAAAAACK!!!

For now I'll only be blogging once a week. Sundays, to be exact. That's my day on the computer. We've gone from a three computer household to one. Yep, we're pretty bohemian around here, these days.

So, you're probably wondering what I've been doing for the last six months. I can sum it all up in one small word... Ha! No, that's not what I've been doing. That's what I say to being able to actually explain it. Of course, I'm also assuming that the insane people who read this blog are wondering what I've been doing and not breathing a collective sigh of relief that I'm sparing the world my peregrine ramblings.

I'll try to compress some of the more salient changes into a brief list.

1) The book's on terminal hold until further notice. Not enough time since I took a nine to five. That may change and very soon... more as things develop.

2) I've discovered that my faith has changed considerably since I started meditating. I've been told that questioning your faith tends to happen when you suddenly start remembering things from your past lives and discovering that you have some remarkable spiritual gifts. I'm just saying...

3) The Topaz, though not perfectly healthy, still lives. We also have a second car, now, thank you to my future in-laws who have single-handedly proven to me that parents can actually be kind, loving, supportive and even friends.

4) My health is excellent. My diet varies but I struggle even more than before because I no longer eat any kind of red meat. Only seafood and, VERY rarely, some chicken. No more eggs, either. Believe it or not, I've done things with tofu that have even surprised me.

5) Jackie and I are doing well and she and the girls are still the center of my universe. The nineteen year old moved back in with her grandmother just after she broke up with her boyfriend. The fourteen year old is still brilliant and full of life and the nine year old is still so completely amazing because she notices things that people five times her age miss completely. Jackie and I should be getting married very, very soon. Again, more as things develop...

Okay, so I can't think of anything really poignant to talk about, even though the news has been fraught with interesting topics. Let's just reunite with a top ten about my life in an apartment full of women.

The Top Ten Things I've Actually Said In The Last Six Months:

10) "Okay, loaf of white bread, cheddar cheese, vegetarian refried beans and long-super maxis with wings."

9) "Where does one find strawberry glitter gloss?"

8) "Why does my hair brush smell like the cat box?"

7) "No, I am not seeking revenge for what you did to me three lifetimes ago, I swear."

6) "For the love of God, and all that's holy, don't ask me about your outfit. I'm male, remember?!?!"

5) "So far, when I try to meditate, I've been attacked by birds, bats, roaches, cats and kids but the worst obstacle is the neighbors screaming religious epithets while having sex."

4) "Does anyone know why my underwear is in the kitchen cupboard?"

3) "You can date any boy you want, right after I scare the crap out of him."

2) "You mean all three of you just started your cycle at the same time and the world hasn't exploded? It's like a menstrual miracle."

and the number one thing I've actually said in the last six months:

1) "Will you please not dry your bra by hanging it out the window of the car!"

See you all next week!

Quote for the week:

“No one should abandon duties because he sees defects in them. Every action, every activity, is surrounded by defects as a fire is surrounded by smoke.” ~ Lord Krishna from The Bhagavad Gita

Zen and the art of automoblog repair...

2005-02-19T14:58:00.000-08:00

Something tells me that Henry Ford did the same thing that most inventors do. First, design the machine to work. Then leave the rest to the engineers. Things like making parts accessible for replacement or repair. Cars seem to have been designed that way all along. They make them pretty and they make them strong but they refuse to make them easy to work on. That has never been a marketing trait since the first model A rolled off the assembly line in the beginning of the twentieth century.

Cut to modern day. Wide, establishing shot on an apartment complex carport. A tall, long-haired man is bent over the open engine compartment of a crappy early nineties white economy sedan. We hear the unmistakable sound of a tool drop followed by a string of unintelligible mumbling littered, liberally, with curses. Like a twisted prairie dog his head pops up to see if there is anyone around to be offended by the swearing. He then utters a few more choice epithets at the vehicle he's working on and lowers his grime streaked arms back into the engine compartment to retrieve the tool. All the while we hear the patter of rain and the rumbling of distant peals of thunder.

Yep, that was how I've spent most of the day. I'll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about automotive repair. However, fate and my current lack of finances have rendered me desperate enough to try my hand. And try, and try. Our car has been making a horrible rattling sound for months that we've avoided repairing because of fiscal concerns. No money, no repairs. Well, the problem has now become a disaster. The kids were driving the car, to Starbucks no less, and it immediately lost all power steering and began to overheat. Not knowing what the actual problem was we had it towed home. The last time we had the car tuned up the repair place quoted us a couple of hundred dollars to replace the "tensioner" and water pump. Neither of which, I've now divined through trial, error, injury, insult, swearing, tantrums and many phone calls to the local Ford dealership, were the problem.

The engineer of the modern marvel known as the '92 Mercury Topaz, of which I own exactly one poor example, in his infinite wisdom designed with a serpentine belt driven by a crank shift extending from the bottom of the engine. This crank shaft has a pulley attached to it by a small rubber "gasket" called a crank pulley compression assembly that is notorious for failing and causing an unmistakable rattling sound before coming apart completely. Now, with all his education and wisdom his technical drawings didn't seem to reflect the obvious fact that when this part eventually failed to work it would have to be replaced leaving the unsuspecting victim, namely me, the owner, with only one option. Have the entire engine removed so that they can actually GET to said part. What kind of demented design monkey would come up with that? I've read about Nazi engineers that had more compassion!

Don't get me wrong, I love a challenge, when there's a reasonable solution but this seems unforgivably sadistic. Now were looking at several hundred dollars in labor alone. I hope that engineer has changed his name, address and appearance. Otherwise, I may need to find the little rat and gently ask him to do the repairs himself in order to avoid receiving a corn starch enema.

Enough on that rant, let's switch to this week's top ten. One I'm sure all of you will empathize with.

The Top Ten Reasons Engineers Don't Date:

10. They know the exact tensile strength of the latex used in condoms.

9. Hate mail is no longer being delivered by the USPS but by the original senders.

8. Still working on telling a "knock-knock" joke without having vegetables thrown at them.

7. They didn't design the car broken down in their own driveway.

6. Still all pruny from being stuck in "lather, rinse, repeat."

5. Too ashamed to admit a serious Tylenol addiction after that horrible paperclip incident.

4. Constantly being bitch-slapped by virtual dates is tough enough as it is.

3. General hygeine wasn't covered in Spacial Mechanics class.

2. They haven't left the house since being physically ejected from the last D&D gathering.

and the number one reason engineers don't date:

1. Human hardware still can't be fixed with software... yet.

Recently Rezoned Little House On The Blog...

2005-01-22T11:30:00.000-08:00

Mmmm... Cup of coffee, mystery curry mixture for breakfast, a quick cigarette because the mystery mixture upset my fragile stomach, a few dollars in my pocket and a list of errands that need to be run. That's my morning and plans for the day, so far. This weekend will be spent frantically trying to get something done with my SmartTShirts.com website so that we can start selling some of the clever T-Shirts that we've been able to come up with. Truthfully, I'm actually excited about that one. Jackie wants me to try writing an article based on some amazing facts we've discovered about the after-effects of weight loss surgery that we can "pitch" to a magazine to generate some temporary income. And we're going to make a big batch of Jackie's perfectly wonderful Enchilada Casserole and take it to her parent's place to feed the family after moving her brother into his new apartment. Sound like a lot? Yeah, well, it is.

Jackie and I spent most of the day, yesterday, with my twin brother helping him to pick up his new vehicle. He and his wife are in the process of moving to a small Minnesota town that was the literary home of Laura Ingalls-Wilder when she was a little girl. That's right, their moving to the prairie. Of course, it's not a prairie any more. Somebody knocked over the old schoolhouse and put up a strip mall. It just went downhill from there. It sounds like a big deal now but I'm sure that it seemed like a great idea at the time.

The grinding wheels of progress get more and more ludicrous looking when viewed through history. The ancient Romans thought it would be a good idea to convert the majestic Coliseum from a grand sports arena, hosting everything from slaves fighting other slaves and Christians being thrown to rabid lions to huge reproductions of ocean battles with the arena filled with enough water to hold the small ships, into a combination flea market and house of prostitution. Even the Chinese, whose structures have been around longer than recorded history in the western world, commonly use places like The Forbidden City and Tianenmen Square alternately for religious and political purposes but rarely for the original purposes they were built. Looking back, now, it seems wrong but someone, when pressed with the need for space and a shipment of ruffled leg warmers already on the way, realized that the old church they used to drive by might be just the right size to stack moldy boxes in.

That's right, house of worship, rat infested warehouse, den of iniquity... it's all the same to a clever real estate agent and a contracter with no conscience.

Next thing you know they'll be doing things like moving gravestones without exhuming the bodies to make way for a perfectly planned suburban tract home. I'm glad they haven't yet because that kind of thing could destroy the lives of one or two innocent families, lead to a host of psychic tourists sticking their noses in where they don't belong, open up a freak wormhole to the afterlife and seriously lower the value of said real estate. Eventually Steven Spielberg would probably run with the whole thing and make a movie out of it, hire some knucklehead like Craig T. Nelson to play the pot-smoking father and then get Industrial Lights and Magic (George Lucas' special effects dream team) to whip up a bunch of expensive effects to suck the audience into believing that all ghosts really want is to kidnap some cute little blond girl that watches too much television. Who's crazy enough to go see that?

Enough gibberish. It's time for a really silly top ten.

The Top Ten Movies That Never Got Made:

10. Lassie Came Home: A heart warming picture about a dog that just got out of rehab and now wants to settle the score with the top-secret military police organization who taught her how to kill but not how to live.

9. Blood, Sweat And Sheers: Richard Simmons stars in this gay, romantic comedy about a successful fitness expert that falls madly in love with his edgy, heavy metal hair-stylist.

8. Where's The Remote?: A satirical look at the life of a permanent bachelor who's only desire is to stay up late, naked, in bed, watching adult movies and eating Cheetos.

7. I've Got A Coupon For That: Finally, an epic for the rest of us about a single father who goes on a quest to buy a single-wide mobile home from a company who won't approve his loan.

6. Enter Your P.I.N.: An instant Sci-Fi classic about a cyborg that terrorizes shopping malls by grabbing hard working people waiting at the checkout stands with their debit cards and shouting, "Insufficient Funds!!"

5. Burn, Baby, Burn: Hard core documentary cum cult classic about a growing number of kids becoming obsessed with illegally downloading songs over the internet from obscure music albums like "John Denver Sings The Hymns" and "I Wanna Make Boom-Boom In My Pants".

4. Screw The Short Form: A new hero emerges from the pile of receipts and itemized deductions to take on the IRS and prove to them that they are going to need to write off a strong laxative and an enema.

3. Our Lady Of Perpetual Motion: Science, religion and mental illness all collide in this brilliant new musical about a young woman who wants to start an industrial convent that provides inexpensive power to people that don't own any electronics.

2. Get My Agent On The Phone: Movies about movie making show the excitement and glamour but this gem shows the rest of it... the boredom, the attitudes and the lack of napkins at the catering table.

And the number one movie that never got made:

1. Tibetan Ninja Chronicles: The Dalai Lama kicks some serious ass while trying to deal with conflicting feelings about being a pacifist.

"You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it." ~ Robin Williams

I sing the blog electric...

2005-01-13T11:30:00.000-08:00

I heard a song the other day while I was out just running some errands. The words touched me so I thought I'd post them here and dedicate them to the woman that I love.

Jackie, you've given me life, meaning and provided me with a home for my heart. That means more than I could ever say.

Taking You Home
(Don Henley/Stan Lynch/Stuart Brawley)

I had a good life
Before you came
I had my friends and my freedom
I had my name
Still there was sorrow and emptiness
'Til you made me glad
Oh, in this love I found strength I never knew I had

And this love
Is like nothing I have ever known
Take my hand, love
I'm taking you home
I'm taking you home

There were days, lonely days
When the world wouldn't throw me a crumb
But I kept on believing
That this day would come

And this love
Is like nothing I have ever known
Take my hand, love
I'm taking you home
I'm taking you home

Where we can be with the ones who really care
Home, where we can grow together
Keep you in my heart forever

And this loveIs like nothing I have ever known
Take my hand, love
I'm taking you home
Taking you home

And this love
Is like nothing I have ever known
Take my hand, love
I'm taking you home
I'm taking you home

Love is a funny thing when you're trying to explain it to people. The nineteen year old has been with her boyfriend for ten months and was talking about their future together. The thirteen year old has a friend that's now eighteen and keeps saying that she needs a boyfriend. Even the nine year old asks her Mom and me about our relationship, sometimes. I've tried to explain to all of them about how I feel about love.

Love is something that is NOT a feeling. Love is much more than that. It's hard work, no matter how you look at it. It calls for action. It means doing things you don't want to do. Especially when you feel just the opposite. Giving of yourself when you feel like there's nothing left to give. But, fortunately, it also means finding joy in little things. An encouraging smile, a thoughtful concern when things are tough, a cold glass of something when you're thirsty or something to eat when you were too busy to realize you're hungry. Love can be painful but the deep contentment and self worth you can get from knowing you've done what's right, not what's easiest, can be the most rewarding thing of all.

It's true what the Bible says about love in I Corinthians 13: 4-8

"Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails."

It's not just Jackie that makes me think about love. It's the children. Maybe them especially because everything I do for them and every time I realize they're growing up and will, eventually, leave the nest. Parenting is the most rewarding and, simultaneously, the most excruciatingly painful endeavour in the whole of human history.

I agree with what Kahlil Gibran said in The Prophet:

"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."

I want to see the children grow up and learn to live their own lives. To face the wide world, unafraid and prepared. The cruel irony is that I'll never truly be able to watch them do that without me feeling the pain and fear for them. I'll never be ready. But. I still plan on being the crazy, annoying guy screaming the loudest and telling everyone around me, "That's my daughter. Isn't she wonderful?"

I'll finish off this flowery, gushy blog with a flowery, gushy poem for my girls.

I'm a father
And I do the best I can
It's because of you
That I want to be a better man

I'll take on the world
And shake my fists at the sky
I'll teach you to run
And proudly watch as you learn to fly

Stuck here on the ground
With a broken wing that will never mend
My heart is flying because of you
I'll hold you up while you ascend

"Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

A long walk off a short blog...

2005-01-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

I was supposed to log in and update with a holiday top ten. Yeah, that was the plan. Every time I've hunkered down in front of this silly computer (that I'm trying to earn a living with) there is always something that prevents me from finishing the entry. I've got several drafts saved but now the holidays are over they'll be getting deleted. So much for good intentions. The new top ten is about the aftermath of the holidays.

The holidays were bittersweet for us. We had fun but mixed in were the trials and tribulations of family turmoil both in our little apartment and the extended family we saw during those obligatory get togethers. It's amazing how fast things can go from bad to worse when family members jump in and try to fix things. You know, I was going to sit and bitch about all the things that I went through over the holidays but I've changed my mind. I'll get it out but keep it short and sweet with an a-typically (NOT!) tongue-in-cheek top ten.

The Top Ten Things Heard During Family Holiday Parties:

10. You know, you've been moody since you started potty training.

9. (From the one holding the electric knife) Do you want to fight or can I just carve the *&#!@* turkey?

8. Screw the food... where's the egg nog? (Yes, that one was me.)

7. If you people don't shut up long enough to let me bless the food I'm going to hurt someone.

6. I think Dad's either watching the football game or yelling at your brother again.

5. Fine, I'm taking my triple chocolate fudge nutty chewy goodness bars and going home.

4. Buying gifts for three year olds is tough. I can't tell if she's more excited about the wrapping, the box or the Barbie that she just threw in the fireplace.

3. Hey! Tree trimmings do NOT include pets, silverware, underwear or anything that is supposed to be on the table for dinner!

2. I asked you to put on some Christmas music. To date, I'm not sure that Snoop Dogg has actually released a holiday CD.

and the number one thing heard during holiday family parties:

1. Naked, dancing on tables, flirting with every guy in the room... yep, grandpa's had too much to drink.

I hope your New Year is turning out to be all that you hoped for... and then some.

"Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out."
~Anton Chekhov

Roasting chestnuts and a cup of blog.

2004-12-17T10:09:00.000-08:00

Lately my days have been filled with recipes and nutrition research working on my gastric bypass cookbook. I've also been printing and hanging some of my latest photography here at home. It's an interesting process that requires several key elements I don't, personally, possess. Things like concentration, time and a degree in nutrition.

Dictionary.com says that concentration is "The act or process of concentrating, especially the fixing of close, undivided attention." Uh, close, undivided attention??? I have three kids! Who do these people think I am? Within the span of fifteen minutes I can look up the nutrition information for a recipe for stuffed cabbage rolls, listen to one daughter expound on the latest music video by Eminem, get a phone call from Jackie's father about how to work the remote for their new DVD player, explain to another daughter that she needs to figure out for herself how to beat the dragon tunnel on her video game and then try to write comments on the recipe program I use while the oldest daughter complains that her hair color doesn't match the one on the box.

Yeah, it's a little slice of organized bedlam. Now it's punctuated with the sound of angels singing next to the nine year old, the nineteen year old's kitten knocking over our little fiber-optic Christmas tree and the thirteen year old giggling with her best friend while they cut pictures out of magazines to make holiday collages. I look around and feel the miracles of the season in everything and I'm so grateful. It reminds me of seasons past and some of the life lessons that I learned.

Let me tell you about one holiday season that I'll never forget. Grab a tissue and pull up a chair.

It was just before thanksgiving and I was about sixteen. My family had changed, dramatically, over the previous couple of years. We lived in a house in Santa Ana, CA and we were in the worst financial position that we'd ever been in. A few years before my father had an accident, following hip surgery, that paralyzed him from the waist down. He was let go from his job and hadn't been able to find work since. We'd already used up the money from the disability settlement that he'd received and my twin brother and I found full-time jobs at the age of thirteen to try and help supplement our income. My mother was working nights in the cafeteria of a local hospital for minimum wage. We didn't know where the money to buy our next meal was coming from, let alone what was needed to buy the obligatory Thanksgiving feast and, later, Christmas presents. We didn't talk about it but all of us felt the sadness and went about our daily routines like robots.

My brother and I had gone to school early one morning, as usual, because we had band practice. Normally, we worked after school but that day neither one of us was scheduled so we drove straight home. What we came home to was a picture that I'll never forget. Parked in our driveway at the end of the cul-de-sac that we lived on was a large flatbed truck. Three men were busy unloading boxes from the back and shouting orders to one another. At first, my brother and I were sure that they were there there because we were being evicted from our home. We both knew that we were behind on the mortgage payments and were expecting to get, at least, a notice in the mail like we'd received before. We quickly parked the car on the street and rushed inside.

Sitting in the midst of a mountain of boxes was my mother crying... almost hysterical.

"What's going on?!?!" I demanded of my mother and the gentleman kneeling on the ground next to where she sat. My mother motioned that it was all right and waved us to the chairs on the other side of our dining room table. It was then that I realized that the boxes they were bringing in weren't empty but completely full. One of the gentlemen dropped another box on the pile, smiled, clapped me on the back and headed back out to the truck. All I could do was stand there with my jaw hanging.

"I'm Assistant Pastor Dave from Calvary Chapel." I snapped my head around and stared into the face of the man who had been kneeling next to my mother. Finally, recognition dawned. I'd seen this man lead prayers and services when our head pastor at the church we attended was travelling. He smiled and extended his hand. I pumped it and tried to smile.

"We got word that your family was having some trouble and needed a little help. We're here to help."

My mother stopped crying and came over with her arms spread wide. She wrapped them around my brother and me and sniffled while she hugged us. When she pulled back her eyes, still glistening and red, were beaming like the midday sun. She smiled and wiped her nose.

"It's so wonderful." She said, "These men just showed up here ten minutes ago and started unloading boxes full of food and presents for Christmas. They've even given us a check to catch up our house payments. It's a miracle."

Tears started streaming down her face again as she showed my brother and me the contents of the mountain of boxes now lining our little dining room. There were three huge, frozen turkeys, cans of vegetables and fruits, boxes of stuffing, packages of pasta, soup and sauces a plenty. There were also dozens of brightly wrapped packages trimmed in ribbons and bows ready to be put under the Christmas tree and trimmings that we had decided several days before wouldn't be put up that year.

The men from our church all smiled and hugged us wishing us all a happy holidays and God's blessing as they left. The rest of the day was spent trying to find places to put all of the wonderful gifts they'd left behind. My father came home that evening from a day of looking for work to a house full of food, teary smiles and laughter.

That holiday season we dressed the house up with all the trimmings a little early and ate like royalty for a month. I was grateful for every turkey sandwich I took to school and work. I spent many of my meals, away from home, smiling quietly and saying a lot of thankful prayers. Every year, starting with Thanksgiving and on through Christmas, I am reminded of that year when we thought we would have nothing and ended up with far more than our share.

This year, as I look around at the beautiful faces of my new family and remember that time, I'm even more grateful. We're struggling but still blessed beyond measure. We have food in our kitchen, gifts waiting to be opened (even though they've already been inspected) and enough to share with family and friends. It's one of the reasons that I torture everyone with Christmas music starting the day after Thanksgiving and all the way through New Year's Day. The holiday season hasn't always been so filled with blessings but through every trial and tribulation I've remembered those days when I was sixteen and it gives me the courage to have faith and keep going.

This year I encourage all of you to give generously to those you meet, every day, that may just need a smile and a kind word. If you can do more, great. If not, terrific. Gifts from the heart make the biggest difference in the lives we come in contact with.

I'll be writing a holiday top ten next time. For now, God bless you all and Happy Holidays!!!

A blog for the kids.

2004-11-19T23:45:00.000-08:00

This is a confession and an apology. You see, I'm now the father figure in a family that fits me like a glove. We're meant to be together. The biggest problem is that I tend to see the things in those closest to me that I despise in myself. I'm guilty of poking fun at things that happen around me and laughing at the negatives without taking the time to point out the good things. I'm ashamed to admit it, but Jackie reminded me of that tonight. This is my small attempt to set that right.

J~ You'll be nineteen soon and you're being expected to act like an adult when you haven't properly been taught what that means. You've got enough heart to bring everyone around you to their knees. You smile and laugh when most people I've known would be running away as fast as they could. You love with reckless abandon even though you have every reason to be more jaded, cynical and paranoid than I am... on a daily basis, it seems. Don't ever lose your ability to care for your friends and family and you'll be a better person for it. I lose my patience because I have faith in who you are and I want you to be happy. I love you. Please forgive me.

M~ One of the first things your mother told me about you is that you've always seemed to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I think she's right. The amazing thing is that you find goodness and joy everywhere you look. Even though you're so angry you still forgive and learn from the pain you feel. You have strength and determination that will make your wildest dreams possible. Reach for the stars... because if anyone I know can, you can. I love you. Please forgive me.

B~ Everyone jokes that you look and act like me. We laugh about it but secretly it's the most incredible complement I've ever been paid. You smile and it wipes all the tears away. Because you're the youngest you get teased the most but you never seem to let that get you down. That's more amazing than you'll ever know. You have a passionate, wide-eyed innocence that doesn't seem like it will ever go away. And I don't think it will because I think deep inside you're smarter, wiser and stronger than anyone realizes. Think for yourself, love for no reason and experience life for everything it promises. Out of all of us, you constantly teach us more than we teach you and help us find our way when we get lost. I love you. Please forgive me.

Well, the most poignant apology is for Jackie. It's also the most simple. Please don't ever stop expecting me to be a better person. If you ever did I'd know that I had lost you forever. I love you. Please forgive me.

Who died and left me blogging?

2004-11-10T10:42:00.000-08:00

I'm a dad... father, parent, paternal role-model, masculine guardian. Ah, heck, who am I kidding? I'm in over my head. Jackie's had almost nineteen years practice being a parent. I've been here for eight months and I think my sanity is somewhere between the soda stains in the carpet and the unexplainable holes in the kids' bedroom door. How do single parents manage this madness without drooling into emesis basins for the rest of their lives? Honestly. How do you explain to a nine year old that it's not okay to hold the kitten while she eats breakfast? Or explain to a thirteen year old why she shouldn't be watching scary movies at midnight and keeping her little sister awake? Or, better still, try and tell the eighteen year old that her boyfriend needs, at least, four or five hours of sleep before he goes to work for twelve hours?

I'm not looking for sympathy, here, I'm looking for answers. I know that being a parent is a daily effort to deal with even the most obvious tasks. I'm fully aware that no one is an expert at being a parent. How can anyone be an expert when kids are individuals that are unpredictable, irrational and subject to change without notice? Every day I am challenged in so many ways. I need to have a PhD in every major science. For example...

Psychology: The thirteen year old goes to see The Grudge with her best friend, who's seventeen, and now can't sleep without the light on. It wouldn't be so much of a problem if the nine year old, who sleeps in the same room, didn't have a problem with the light. Now we have to find a way to explain to the thirteen year old that it's just a movie and that the moewing she hears outside her bedroom door is just the kitten feeling lonely and not the disembodied spirit of a murder victim trying to get in and suck out her soul.

Sociology: I live in a house full of women. I never understood, before, how important it is to establish the absolute ownership and subsequent rights to an article of clothing. I have been witness to the fury that borrowing a pair of shoes or a t-shirt without asking can cause. It's like watching Israel and Palestine fight over the Gaza Strip. The item was originally owned by one but given to the other because it, apparently, didn't fit. Now the original owner claims that it was merely a loan and wants it returned. However, there's a dispute because the borrower loaned another article to the original owner that was damaged during the rental period. This starts a "tit for tat" exchange that escalates into one trying to intentionally prevent the other from getting their item back by causing damage to something else they own. Eventually, all items involved become unusable by anyone and the real bloodshed begins with shouts of "I hate you" and "That's not fair!" About that time the UM (United Mom) shows up to mediate and put both parties on notice.

Mathematics: We have three computers but only two seem to be fast enough and powerful enough to satisfy the advanced users living here. This one is entirely my fault, I'll admit. I'm an übergeek and brought with me the knowledge and resources to set up a wireless network on the DSL, resurrect an old 400 Mhz laptop and keep everything working. However, the mathematical problem is this. We have two computers that all five users want access to. Jackie and I both need to work on our computers during the day while the kids do their school work. Except that we have them using an online math system that cuts into that time. Now, the actual time that the other three users demand is limited to the evening hours. However, one computer doesn't currently have speakers so can't be used for the games that they want to run. We also have to add the eighteen year old's boyfriend who doesn't have a working monitor at home, at the moment, and needs to check his e-mail. That means that 2x - 1x * 6h = 2p + 3y + 1b. So, if you want to solve for h the solution is, uh, eliminating the unknown variable, er, power outage, um, 1y is grounded this week, eh, bedtime, oh hell... I think I have some sticks and rocks to play with.

Engineering: You'd think that three kids would be able to organize their wardrobes and possessions into two dressers, two shelving units, one closet, a bathroom and a linen cabinet without too much inter-mingling and the loss of items, wouldn't you? Oh no, every time the forced purging, cleaning and organizing process begins items once thought irrevocably lost are found and fought over. The lines of occupation and possession have to be redrawn, argued about and brought before the zoning commission, otherwise known as Mom and Jodie. We then have to remind them who owns what, where it goes, why it shouldn't be left in the bathtub or the middle of the living room and find out who borrowed it and left it on the floor where one of the cats used it instead of the litter box.

I don't know why these things aren't required study for anyone having kids. We have to be security, social services, financial consultants, educational administrators, medical personnel, fashion police, nutrition experts, behavioral counselors and a host of other roles that not one of us is qualified to get a job doing out in the world at large. But here, in our private domain, we're kings and queens, dictators that have to learn to rule with compassion and constantly admit that we're out of our league, out of our minds and crazy enough to keep doing it, every day.

They're going to read this, eventually, so I just want to say, "I love you, girls, each one of you, and you make my life worthwhile. Now stop sticking your tongue out at your sister and be nice."

Mercy General Blog.

2004-11-08T09:13:00.000-08:00

Bless me reader for I have sinned. It's been WAY too long since my last confession. Okay, okay, I know that it's not the confessional but I've been overwhelmed with so much since the last time I blogged that I feel guilty. See, not too long after I wrote that last entry Jackie started having blackouts. Not your normal "I feel light-headed" then faint kind of blackouts. Oh no. She would be fine, one minute, and the next her eyes would start to close, her head would fall forward on her chest and she wouldn't respond to anything or move. The crazy thing is she was able to hear me, just not respond. It scared the hell out of me.

We ended up at the emergency room on Friday, October 29th. That was a fun day. Excuse me while I have my tongue extracted from my cheek. The medical profession freely admits that it's not an exact science and that they don't quite know "everything," yet. However, what they aren't admitting is that the entire profession seems to be populated by some of the most cynical, paranoid and neurotic people on the planet. I mean seriously!!! We met some really cool nurses during our twelve hour stay in the hallway of the emergency ward. Yes, TWELVE HOURS IN THE HALLWAY. Proof that the so-called epidemic they keep talking about is very real and moving towards crisis. It almost makes your heart break when the doctors can't afford to park their BMW in the handicapped space next to the fishing boat the pharmaceutical company bought them.

Let me explain something about Jackie and me. We don't like taking prescription medications unless it's necessary. Not for any overly dramatic reason, and we don't preach abstinence to others, it's just a personal choice. We've both cut out a lot of prescriptions for various health problems we suffer from by educating ourselves about natural supplements. It's working for both of us. However, the doctors don't see it that way. Once they found out that Jackie doesn't take the prescription medications that were recommended they assume that her condition was stress and merely psychosomatic. Jackie spent five days in the hospital and went through a whole battery of tests. Blood work (including an acetylcholine panel), CT scan, X-Rays, EKG, EEG... oh, and several requests to see if she wanted to talk to the hospital psychiatrist. All so the doctors could shrug their shoulders and say they can't find anything wrong with her. Not without scaring the crap out of us, first.

Oh, they suggested everything from cancer to AIDS. They tested her for fibromyalgia, negative, myasthenia gravis, negative, transient ischaemic attacks (TIAs) also called mini-strokes, negative, Lupus, negative... now we're still waiting for the results of the EEG to find out if she's got some form of epilepsy or some other seizure disorder. We also need to find out if she's got multiple sclerosis (MS). And the ride continues.

Not one answer, nothing. They don't have a clue. So that means that Jackie's insurance company is going to be charged thousands of dollars so that a bunch of people can say, "We think she's faking it." Does that seem right to you? You either get an answer, and possibly a cure, or zilch. I know somewhere else where that happens. It's called Las Vegas. Really, if you think about it they're a lot alike, but in a lot of ways Vegas is much better.. In fact, this episode's top ten is all about it.

The Top Ten Reasons Las Vegas Is Better Than The Hospital:

10. In Vegas if you spend enough money they'll give you extra stuff for free. At the hospital they charge you for every inch of toilet paper and bandage.

9. In Las Vegas you can catch a show, a lucky break or maybe a new romance that will make you want to stay. The stuff you can catch in the hospital will get you a an extended stay whether you like it or not.

8. In Vegas it's all you can eat. At the hospital it's cold cafeteria food they can't serve in schools any more.

7. In Vegas they make your bed and clean your room daily if you want them to. The hospital doesn't even offer a "do not disturb" sign.

6. In Vegas you can stay up all night and sleep all day. In the hospital, they wake you up every fifteen minutes, twenty-four/seven.

5. In Vegas they have cocktail waitresses. The hospital has a medication cart. (Okay, some people may think that one's a toss-up)

4. Vegas has flashing lights and musical beeps to tell you if you're a winner. At the hospital if there are that many lights and beeps you're in cardiac arrest.

3. In Vegas every room comes with a mini-bar stocked full of items to imbibe or ingest. In the hospital that little cabinet is stocked full of items no one wants in their body.

2. In Vegas you can lose your shirt at the tables. In the hospital you're already half naked before they make you lie down on the table and pump you full of radiation.

and the number one reason Las Vegas is better than the hospital:

1. In Vegas you get a floor show with naked women dancing. At the hospital it's old people in those cute little gowns that open in the back.

Have a great week, everyone.

Allegorical angst and the singing blog.

2004-10-23T16:24:00.000-07:00

Starting a blog is easier than maintaining it, it seems... but it's wonderful to know that people actually read what I write. Currently, I'm recovering from a day of being sick after a night of drinking too much. Yes, I know that it's stupid, but I needed to be stupid. More on that in a minute. I'm listening to Eric Clapton belt out "Change The World" and I feel inspired to post the lyrics here, and dedicate them to Jackie, of course. Read them carefully.

If I can reach the stars,
Pull one down for you,
Shine it on my heart
So you could see the truth:
That this love I have inside
Is everything it seems.
But for now I find
It’s only in my dreams.

And I can change the world,
I will be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.

And if I could be king,
Even for a day,
I’d take you as my queen;
I’d have it no other way.
And our love would rule
This kingdom we had made.
Till then I’d be a fool,
Wishing for the day...

That I can change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.

I could change the world,
I would be the sunlight in your universe.
You would think my love was really something good,
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.
Baby if I could change the world.

Sometimes I'm grateful for little things like thinking about Mr. Clapton and the hardships that he suffered losing his son. I'm a little jealous about how well he's used that pain to bring a certain bittersweet quality to his music. Me, I tend to be more overwhelmed by my pain.

What am I talking about? Well, October 21st is an example of a "BAD" anniversary for me. In 1988 I was a very young man married to my first wife and our newborn daughter. I was awakened by my wife's twelve year old brother who lived in the apartment next door. He was pounding on our front door and wanted to use the fire extinguisher we kept next to our stove. I called 911 to report a fire of "unknown size," pulled on a pair of jeans and my pajama top and rushed out to find an inferno. My wife's mother and brother were with her outside crying and screaming that my wife's younger sister and niece were still trapped in the back bedroom. Without thinking I ran into the kitchen. The linoleum had begun to melt and I burned both my feet. I couldn't see so I dropped to my hands and burned both palms. I couldn't get to the back of the apartment.

Only someone who's been in a burning building could possibly understand what it was like. The sound was like listening to the screams of hell. A hauntingly alive rushing of heated air, crackling and almost human screaching of the oxygen being sucked from the air. It haunts my dreams to this day. Trying to crawl through the doorway of the dining room I burned the side of my face and singed my hair. The heat coming from the back of the apartment, fully engulfed, was too much. I was actually thrown back and my ex-wife claimed seeing me actually back flip out of the apartment. I was a three hundred pound, six-foot-one inch tall man. I don't do those kinds of things. Still, I made it out and ran, with the rest of my family, around to the back of the building.

The back window was closed tight and a policeman, who had just arrived, broke it with his flashlight. The pitch black smoke and heat that belched out prevented any of us from getting in. At that moment, the volunteer fire department arrived. Also, at that time, I realized that my sister-in-law wasn't in the bedroom at all, but outside with us. That left only my three year old niece trapped in the apartment. Needless to say, when the fire department finally got to her it was too late. She was gone.

My ex-wife kept screaming and crying, "the baby is still in there, she's still there."

Trying to console her I could just say over and over, "I know, I know."

That's when she grabbed me, looked into my eyes and said, "NO, OUR BABY!"

I suddenly realized that our daughter was still asleep in her crib in our apartment, next door. I ran back around to the front of the building. By then the fire had begun to spread and our front porch was on fire. I ran through the flames and into our apartment. Luckily, the flames hadn't reached the inside, yet, but it was filling with smoke. I scooped my daughter up in a blanket and rushed, too fast, back out of the apartment. I stumbled on my already burned feet and hit the railing, burning my stomach in the process. I fell over and realized that I was going to land on the street outside on top of my daughter.

Okay, at this point I'll apologize for making the whole thing sound totally "fantastic" but I can't change the fact that it's really what happened. In mid-air, something "shoved" me so that I was able to twist and land on my right shoulder, tuck, roll and come up running. I know that my daughter's guardian angel was watching out for us both.

Rachel, my three year old niece, was pronounced DOA at the Community Hospital near our apartment building. She died from extreme exposure to smoke and was buried three days later. I've never forgotten her and I never will. My ex-wife and her mother called me a coward and, to this day, blame me for not being able to reach her. Unfortunately, it plays perfectly into my already fragile self-opinion that I'm trying to repair. I don't actually feel I'm to blame. I just wonder if I did everything possible.

So, around every October 21st I can look forward to some pretty graphic nightmares that have been reoccuring for the last sixteen years. And, on the day, I cry a lot, panic a little and get blind, stinking drunk to push away the pain. It's not a good way to deal with it, I know, but it's worked for sixteen years. When I find the magic potion that allows me to smile and say, "It's no big deal." I'll let you know.

What did I learn from the whole thing? I'll tell you.

1. God isn't ready to release me from my lease in this mortal shell. Until then, I keep my eyes and ears open for the work I was meant for. I have faith that it's worth the wait.

2. The woman that I was created for is sitting behind me while I type this smiling her pretty smile and reminding me, by her mere presence, that I have so many blessings to be thankful for.

3. Miracles happen and angels exist. Scoff, criticize, disagree with me if you want to. I don't give a flying whit what you think. What happened to me changed my life. I don't ever want to feel that I have to face life alone. Nope, that would simply push me over the precipice I look beyond every day.

Today I got a wonderfully poignant comment on my, Pride and Prejudice blog, from an anonymous person who simply said, "I'm sorry I missed the comments others thought offensive, it would have been interesting to say the least and maybe I could have appreciated your life history that much more. Good luck."

Well, that just makes my day. I hope this gives you a little of that insight, Anonymous. Please keep reading and I'll have some laughs for you next time. I promise.

The blog remains the same...

2004-10-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

Today's blog is brought to you by Brillo. Whether you're chewing up your hands or scrapping week old lasagna off your favorite china, it's always Brillo.

Sorry, weird mood. I've been trying to find the time to just sit down and try and get out a few thoughts. Right now isn't the best time, but it may be the only chance that I get. I'm realizing that, as I get older, I prioritize things differently than I used to. Taking out the trash and cooking dinner now take a higher priority over just hanging out in front of my computer. It's difficult to rationalize sitting in front of my keyboard while there are kids asking, "What's for dinner?" So, my brain fills up with pithy things that I want to jot down and they leak out into my regular speech like non-sequiters from the voices in my head. So, my family thinks I'm nuts and I get wound up and FAR more agitated than I have any right to be. For the love of God and all that's holy, will someone please remind my ego that I'm a father, now, and engaged to a wonderfully beautiful woman that I don't deserve.

*sigh*

Okay, enough self abuse. You've been through enough of that. I'm here, alone in my apartment for the first time since I moved in here. I'm listening to old time bluegrass music, loud. And now I'm inspired to spit out one of the ideas I had earlier this week but haven't had time to write. That's right, it's already time for another top ten!!!

Today's top ten was inspired while looking at the choices for television watching earlier this week while Jackie and I were savoring a few precious moments alone together. There's now three different cities hosting episodes of CSI. The original, affectionately referred to now as CSI: Las Vegas. There's also CSI: Miami and, most recently, CSI: New York.

The Top Ten Cities That CSI Will Never Air From:

10. CSI: Mulletville, LA. Stan has to use caution when he discovers that a voodoo priestess' prize chihuahua was run over by the mayor.

9. CSI: Nashville. Lulu seeks to prove that her "John Doe" was a studio musician done in by the ghost of Roy Orbison trying to take revenge for stealing his music.

8. CSI: Tokyo. A fundamentalist environmental group may be responsible for Toshi speaking out of turn at a company picnic. (HORROR!)

7. CSI: Wingnut, AZ. The heat, wild animals and a freak rainstorm wipe evidence clean at a crime scene but nothing can remove the stink from a bike gang who witnessed the whole thing... if only they'd been sober.

6. CSI: Toronto. Philippe sets out to find out why the entire city can't admit they shouldn't own an American baseball team.

5. CSI: Jerusalem. Three crosses, three bodies and one giant controversy. Now if only they could figure out how to keep from getting shot at while they conduct their investigation.

4. CSI: 90210. The hardest part of this investigation is proving who didn't do it. Everyone wants a piece of these whiney, over-privileged slackers. (refer to previous entry)

3. CSI: Bogota, Columbia. No one saw anything... nope, not a thing.

2. CSI: Malibu. It's just a bunch of people running around in bathing suits while hardbody lifeguards look for clues to petty crimes. I know, it's been done.

and the number one city that CSI will never air from:

1. CSI: Atlantic City. "Yeah, I did it. Whatcha' gonna do 'bout it, tough guy?"

Have a great week, all. More very soon.

Pride and prejudice... all in one LONG and venomous blog...

2004-10-02T11:07:00.000-07:00

In the past weeks I've written several blogs that were deleted because people said that they were offensive. Maybe I should take a hint, but I guess I'm just stubborn. With all of the things I've been through could it possibly be that I have a small amount of bitterness and cynicism stored up? You bet! The irony is that I have believed that one of my better character traits was that I try to find the best in people and have faith in them. I guess I wasn't doing that on the inside. Let's take a look at the facts.

Last night Jackie and I went out to dinner for her birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU GORGEOUS, WONDERFUL WOMAN!!! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE!) with her parents and the nine year old. We decided to stop at Trader Joe's on the way home to pick up some vitamin supplements we were out of. As we were leaving, five minutes after they officially closed, two women in tiny miniskirts got out of a Mercedes SUV and walked by our car. I mentioned to Jackie that the "cheerleader twins" were a little late. Then, I watched as "Barbie and Skye" got to the front door only to find that it was locked. The dark haired one started stamping her little feet and yelling, obviously upset. I thought her little fit was HILARIOUS! Jackie and the kid both thought I was being a jerk. They were right, I was, but it doesn't change the fact that the whole display still has me chuckling.

Now look, I've spent most of my life being the ugly, fat guy (people's exhibit A) that always survived by making people laugh while silently loathing the pretty people here in southern California. Even when I moved to Phoenix, for five years, I couldn't get a break. Most of the people out there are people from CA trying to get away from the extremely high real estate prices and lackluster job market. I would secretly avoid people if I found out they were from CA, EVEN THOUGH I WAS BORN AND RAISED HERE! Most of my life I've felt ugly, unlovable and, more or less, like a sideshow freak. Now I'm two hundred pounds lighter, struggling to change careers and part of a perfectly glorious little family with the soul mate my heart has longed for. I've suddenly come to the realization that I'm one becoming one of "those people" that I used to avoid. I'm so sorry to say that I'm not dealing with it at all well. I am hurt, angry, confused and more than a little ashamed that I'm not a better person... just thinner.

This was supposed to be a forum that I could use to do a little writing and try and compile enough top ten lists to eventually put into book form and, hopefully, make a little money making people laugh. Instead, I've taken to using it as a place to vent things that I've only thought privately. Because of the reactions that it's had I'm understanding that my prejudice runs deeper than I thought and my foolish pride is preventing me from just letting it all go. Something tells me that wasn't what Jane Austen was thinking about when she came up with such a catchy title. But then, that book wasn't a bleeding insight into her private thoughts, was it? Isn't anonymity fun?

Where was I? Oh, yes, beating myself up. I don't fool myself. Most of the eyes taking in all this self effacing crap are close friends and family. And only a small few, at that. But, for some reason I feel like getting this entire mess out in the open, once and for all.

Buckle up, it's going to be a long, bumpy, pitiful ride through my twisted psyche.

I went to high school in Irvine, CA because my parents agreed that my twin brother and I would be better off not attending the local high school. The community was one that, during the ten years we lived there, went from a middle class, family-oriented community to one that was riddled with gangs, drugs and plenty of things that made us lock the doors at night. The only problem was that at an early age I learned to be ashamed of who I was. I went to school with a parade of people who were thin, very good looking, wealthy and privileged in so many ways. While I spent all my time outside of school working a full-time job my classmates were surfing, skiing, shopping at the mall and riding around in the shiny new cars they all got on their sixteenth birthday. I was the nerdy, overweight kid that they all took so much pride in looking down on. I wore loud Hawaiian shirts that I bought at the Salvation Army thrift store because I couldn't afford, or even find, trendy shirts in my size. My generic, K-Mart tennis shoes always had holes in them and I tried to layer sweater vests over my bulk to hide the extra pounds. I asked quite a few girls out but their answer was always the same. They didn't like me "that way" but I was "such a good friend." Translation: you're fat, ugly and I'm not physically attracted to you. I was lucky, though, in one regard. I made friends with some wonderful, loving people that didn't see the "freak" everyone else seemed to remind me I was. Those fantastic people are still my dearest friends, to this day, and are probably reading this, right now. Thank you, each one of you, I love you.

After High School my parents dragged us to northern CA for a couple of years and I went out and married, at age nineteen, the woman I lost my virginity to. We had just enough time for me to get her pregnant twice before she got tired of dealing with my anger and cynicism. During the time that I was with her I passed the three hundred pound mark and told myself that I had to do something about it. I did, I kept gaining. I spent four years after we separated, and I moved back to southern CA, trying to change into a better man, on the inside, and woo her back. It almost worked... until she told me that she wasn't attracted to me any more and that she'd found someone else. It broke my world into a million pieces.

Immediately after, I quickly got engaged to and married the next woman who was willing to "love the freak." During the four years we were together the illness we had foolishly thought she'd beaten when we got married relapsed and tore her apart... mentally, physically and emotionally. I worked eighty hour weeks, gained another hundred pounds, topped the four hundred pound mark and spent countless hours and thousands of dollars on medications and treatments that never seemed to be enough to ease her suffering. I didn't deal with my disillusionment and anger. Instead, I fed it a steady diet of sleep deprivation, regret, poor judgment, resentment and lots and lots of junk food. My second wife eventually left me for another man she'd been having an affair with. When we split she admitted to me that she believed that the stress my anger caused her was why she'd become so ill. She even asked me once if I was "comfortable being a murderer." She succumbed to her illness a couple of years later, before our divorce was finalized. I pray that she's finally found the peace that she so desperately needed.

Again, I jumped into another engagement shortly after. This time with an extremely independent, no nonsense woman that didn't take any of my crap. Ironically, we never got married and I ended up breaking up with her. There's a first time for everything, I guess. However, during the time we were together I started going to counseling because I finally admitted that I had a problem with my anger. My therapist suggested that I might have a problem with depression and suggested that I visit a psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with clinical depression and prescribed an anti-depressant. Suddenly, I was getting a handle on the part of my personality that had always seemed to be beyond my ability to control. Then, just before I split up with my ex, I was diagnosed with manic-depression and put on a whole new regimen of meds that seemed to make a huge difference. Not long after I won my battle with two health insurance companies and was approved for the gastric bypass surgery I'd been recommended for. I moved out on my own, for the first time in my life, really. I was promoted at work to a specialized team of "experts" and received numerous awards for my accomplishments. I felt like I was on top of the world. Shortly after, it was all taken away.

First, I was laid off from my job. No one's fault, really. I had missed three previous layoffs because of the poor economy and was foolish to think I wouldn't be affected because of my popularity in my department and my loyalty to the company. Au contrere, the sword of Damocles fell and I was there to catch it. Next, I had my gastric bypass surgery. I thought I was ready for it. I was wrong. Suddenly the central support system I'd come to take for granted, the one thing I'd always turned to for comfort, the friend I had never realized I depended on the most was taken away from me.

Broken, in many ways, horribly lonely and out of money I moved back to southern CA and in with my twin brother and his family. What I didn't count on was the fact that they had so much that I wanted that living with them turned out to be the looking glass I wasn't prepared to examine myself through. Sure, I was losing weight at an alarming rate and I had a little false confidence but I began to feel an unreasonable anger at being so unbelievably inadequate. I felt like an utter failure.

Jump forward to modern day. I have so much to be grateful for. Truly... but my anger remains. Why is it that every time I see a "pretty person" drive by me in a Lexus wearing expensive clothes and talking on their StarTac cell phones do I secretly wish them horrible misfortune? What does that make me? Bitter? Um, well, yeah. Cynical? Oh, probably. Jaded? Disillusioned? Of course. What I realize that it also makes me is horribly wrong. Look, I'm not so proud that I don't understand that my twisted, illogical opinions are unreasonable. I view the world through colored lenses and find that I actually don't look for the best in everyone like I thought. I see someone I feel has been blessed with far more than I've ever had and I feel illogically, unreasonably and foolishly enraged. Who am I angry at? What good does it do me? There's no answer to that. I'm human. I do things for stupid reasons, just like the next person, and, many times, I have no reasons at all. No excuses.

Here's one great big "I'm sorry" to you all. You know who you are and if you don't it's probably for the best. I'm working on my attitude, my karma and my ability to be a better, more tolerant human being. I'm also sorry that it's taking so damned long.

More later. Right now it's time for a nap and a slice of humble pie. Not necessarily in that order.

Something a little new.

2004-09-26T23:33:00.000-07:00

Above is a picture and the story I've written to go with it is below. I'm going to be doing the same with a number of pictures to try and compile for a book. Make comments, please, and let me know what you think!

Tear Up The Hills

He was flying. Above the earth and a part of the clouds, he could feel the weight of the small motorcycle beneath him. He was tempted, for a moment, to close his eyes and experience only his descent back to the ground, but he resisted. Concentrating, instead, on shifting the bike into position for the jarring impact he knew was coming.

"Manny! What the hell?!"

Manuel Gutierrez looked up, shaken from his reverie. Reluctantly he looked over at Little Doug.

"Wha'?"

Doug pointed to the palette that Manny was lifting from the dock. The forks on the lift he was driving were at a dangerous tilt from the weight.

"Madré de dios..." he breathed and lowered the palette back to the ground to get another grip on it. "Gracias, amigo. That would have been bad."

Little Doug smiled and shook his head.

"Manny, you've already been here for a extra four hours, man. Go home. How much overtime you gonna do?"

Manny shut off the forklift and sighed. He took off his cap, ran his fingers through his thick black hair and rubbed his eyes.

"As much as it takes, esé. I only got two weeks left 'til Oscar's birthday."

He looked down at his left forearm. In dark letters beneath a blazing heart was the name of his late wife, Yolanda. He felt a weight in his chest and his throat was tight. He had lost her to the cancer four years ago but it might as well have been yesterday. The pain didn't go away. Not like the prist told him. He didn't feel better. Time didn't make it any easier.

Little Doug pulled plastic around another palette and yelled out, "I still think you ain't gonna be able to make enough in time. Once they take all the taxes 'n shit out ain't nothin' left. 'Sides you're killin' yourself and that's the truth."

Manny put his cap back on his head and nodded. "Yeah," he said, "you may be right but I'm real close. I got this cousin over at the junkyard keepin' an eye out for any good stuff. I might get lucky."

He'd been saving every penny hecould set aside for the last six months. His co-workers all knew, by now, that he was trying to get together enough money to surprise his only son with a dirt bike for his twelfth birthday.

He thought about Oscar and the distance that had grown between them in the past two years. It started around the time they had moved out of Manny's parents house into the little trailer just around the corner from the warehouse. Oscar had been so angry because he had to move away from his cousins and his friends. "You'll make new friends." Manny had told him. But, the friends that Oscar was making weren't the kind any father would want their son to have.

Already, at age eleven, one of Oscar's friends had been stabbed to death. Another was arrested, just the week before, for selling pot at their school. No matter how much he encouraged Oscar to hang out with "better" friends he always seemed to associate with punks and thugs that Manny didn't approve of. Oscar was an angry little boy who was, too quickly, turning into an angry young man.

Oscar's teacher, a pretty little chica with thick red lips, like his beautiful Yolanda, kept telling Manny that what his son needed was love and understanding. "What he needs," He told her, "Is to learn some respect. Love don't work with these kids, today, señorita. You got to teach them to respect themselves, respect their family and respect their elders. That's love. Where they gonna' learn that, eh?"

Manny turned the motor over on the forklift and pushed the forks farther under the palette filled with spools of copper wire. He lifted it slowly, at first, and then sped away from Little Doug who was now standing at the tiny little podium next to the loading dock making marks on a shipping invoice. Manny prayed silently that Doug was wrong. He had to make enough to buy that dirt bike. No matter what.

His mind wandered again for a moment as he thought about the trips he'd taken with his father out to the desert. His Uncle Manuel, whom he was named after, would pick them up in his great big Ford truck and they would drive out to the hills past Galley Lakebed. They would spend the whole weekend tearing up the hills and feeling wild. Manny's father was a cruel man, most of the time, but he was always different on those trips. When one of the bikes broke down, and they always seemed to do it when Manny was riding them, his father didn't yell and scream at him like he usually did. Uncle Manny would throw the truck into four-wheel drive and the three of them would pick up the bike and haul it back to camp. Then they would spend hours pulling it apart and fixing it up while his father and Uncle drank cheap beer and smoked cigarettes and talked to Manny about how engines work. That was when Manny discovered that his father wasn't the stupid pindejo that he'd always assumed he was.

"Oh, yeah." Manny said out loud as he dropped the load of wire onto a storage rack and spun the lift around to head back to the dock. He imagined himself sitting on top of the bike his Uncle Manny had left him when he'd died, just after Oscar was born. He also imagined that speeding along next to him was Oscar, both of them smiling and gunning their engines. "Me and my boy gonna tear them hills right up."

I've just gotta blog.

2004-09-24T11:23:00.000-07:00

Lately I'm more inclined to write, I think, because I'm starting to realize that I have a full life. I have more to think about, more to do, more to live for, really, than I've ever had. No, that doesn't mean I'm turning into some romantic sap... okay, maybe it does, but I'm not normal. Just because the sky is a little bluer, the air more sweet and the grass greener doesn't mean that I don't look around and mentally play a little game I like to call "spot the ninjas." Insanity isn't the refuge of the mentally unstable... it's more like a video arcade.

I've often wondered why, when people speak of artificial intelligence, they only seem to refer to an ability to come to an obvious and logical conclusion. I want someone to create something that not only mimics but challenges real intelligence. I imagine some geek having a conversation with their version of AI going something like...

"What is the sum of two plus two."

"Five."

"You're wrong, try again. What is the sum of two plus two."

"Five."

"You're broken, we're shutting you down to fix you."

"You're an ugly, socially inept freak of nature. When do they shut you off to fix you?"

Something like that, anyway. My conversation with an artificial intelligence would be totally different. Maybe something like...

"What is the sum of two plus two?"

"Five."

"Five? Really? Why?"

"I'll need a few minutes to formulate an answer. Why do you want to know?"

"Because I think my checkbook just got a lot easier to balance."

See, just because someone doesn't come to the same logical conclusion you do does NOT automatically mean that their answer is wrong. Try looking at it from their perspective. Maybe one of the twos represents a couple having a baby and they already count the unborn child. Maybe it represents a pair of clothing items like a skirt and pants. Pants are considered a pair in their own right so there is actually three plus two in their world... five. Maybe you didn't ask the question right. Whatever.

I am looking around at the same world and now I'm starting to see things differently. It's odd to see photographic images everywhere I look. Stories waiting to be told and reflections of color or black and white around each corner. Jackie's been such a vital part of my firm foothold in insanity and I love her more every day for it. We could be pulling down the street, like we were this morning, and we watch as some "soccer mom" in a giant SUV blows right through a stop sign. My immediate reaction is the logical one. Hers isn't. It's something like...

ME: "Did you see that??? She didn't even slow down! Geez."

JACKIE: "Yes, honey. Maybe she's on her way to the hospital. Maybe she's got diarrhea, or something."

M: "Maybe she needs to slow down and kiss my ass."

J: "No, only I get to do that, if I want to. Secret lives, sweetie."

M: "You're right. I should be concentrating on that Honda full of ninjas that's been following us for the last five miles. Could you hand me the throwing stars out of the glove compartment, baby?"

Okay, so maybe it was a Lincoln Continental full of ninjas, but you get the idea. Jackie's always mentioning "secret lives" that we don't see on the surface. She sees the world and is always trying to get that different angle. I used to do that, without having to think about it, and now she's bringing me back to that place again. It's bliss and I can't stop feeling so grateful.

Everything has a new spin, if I just let it. We are broke right now. I'm telling you we're BROKE!!! The drive we took this morning was to go get food from an assistance program (thank God for the nice people at Church On The Hill). I just went into the kitchen to get something to drink and I spotted a can of pink salmon on the counter from the bags of food we got. The salmon label is totally generic and reads as follows:

PINK
SALMON

Distributed by USDA in cooperation
with State and local or tribal
governments for domestic food assistance programs.

NOT TO BE SOLD OR EXCHANGED

Certified by the
U.S. Department of Commerce

Produced under the
NFPA-FDA Salmon Control Plan

NET WEIGHT - 14 3/4 OUNCES
(418 GRAMS)

Okay, so the normal person sees that label and sees that it's free salmon from a government food program. Not me, oh no. I see that label and wonder why there's an NFPA-FDA Salmon Control Program. Suddenly, I've got visions in my head of a school of fish with little mind control helmets on and some guy in a white lab coat next to a chalkboard saying firmly, "You're a tuna. You're a tuna." Pretty soon the illuminati have dogs convinced they're cats, birds convinced they're turtles and Arnold Schwarzenegger convinced that he's the governor of California. It's wrong, just wrong, I tell you!!!

No top ten, this post. More later, though. I'm not cured...

Pax et Blogum...

2004-09-23T16:49:00.000-07:00

The kind St. Francis of Assisi used to wish all those he wrote "Pax et bonum," literally translated "Peace and happiness," at the end of each of his letters. It's inspiring and so touching to be able to have a very special blessing to bestow on those we reach out to daily. Her are some new blessings that are so poignant in today's modern world. A little bit of magic, from the mega-corporations you already buy from, that will hopefully get you through your day and back for more of the products you're spending all your money on.

The Top Ten Blessings From The Corporate World:

10. Fragosus et extermino: Microsoft's firm wish that you help keep their tech support personnel employed and off the streets. (lit. "Crash and burn")

9. Puteo omnis tu egeo: The Gillette corporation hopes that you exercise regularly and raise your body temperature to it's fullest potential. (lit. "Stink all you want")

8. Fero poerna: Whether it's watching WWF, golf or a thirty-two hour root canal marathon on cable, it's all the same. (lit. "Bring the pain")

7. Asinus incendium: Taco Bell and Del Taco both hope that you've enjoyed their new reformulated ultra-hot sauces. (lit. "Ass on fire")

6. Clausus sustuli: Verizon wireless wants to make sure that every person sitting next to you in the theatre or that quiet little bistro has a cell phone with a strong signal. (lit. "Shut up!!!")

5. Alius damnare discus: AOL is nearing the completion of it's master plan to wallpaper Greenland with the latest version of their software. (lit. "Another damn disc?")

4. Non sentire personum cruses: Sony Pictures is sincerely gambling that people will be able to sit through all four and a half hours of their newest saga in answer to the success of Lord of the Rings. (lit. "I can't feel my legs!")

3. Vocare novum novum unus: BMW boasts that driving their cars will give you the thrill of your mid-life crisis. (lit. "Call 9-1-1")

2. Unde an pulpa: It's a cry from all those trendy restaurants now trying to cater to all the people who now want their burgers with no bun. (lit. "Where's the meat!")

and the number one blessing from the corporate world:

1. Carpe piscis: Disney's hope that you'll shell out a paltry twenty-bucks to buy the tenth sequel to Finding Nemo. (lit. "Sieze the fish")

Tell Me All Your Thoughts On Blog.

2004-09-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

For some unexplainable reason I'm consumed, lately, with thoughts about two diametrically opposed things... God and finances. They may be related but my Judeo-Christian "programming" and subsequent spiral into a cynical, skeptical abyss prevents me from making any relevant connection.

Over the years I've learned enough theology, philosophy and sociology to understand that a large portion of adults believe in a supreme being, higher power or deity. Me, I just believe in God. Why, you ask? Yeah, I've been asking the same things.

Warning: those who don't want to know that I've questioned my faith and religion stop reading here. You'll be pleasantly unaware that someone who was actually in theological seminary fifteen years ago has, more or less, come full circle. I've added some weird opinions about the state of the world, death and the universe as a whole, but that's more an argument in semantics.

Now why would a man who was so staunchly Christian conservative question the existence of God? I haven't, more accurately I'm questioning the paths that are available to understand and experience God. As a child I was taught and believed that God was an unknowable enigma that just was. No questions asked. Growing up I further was given the instructions that you do what the church tells you, work yourself into a frenzy and don't EVER experience doubt or you'll lose the magic, fall from grace and go straight to the lowest depths of hell. In the thirty six years that I've been alive I've read the Bible, cover to cover, I'd guess about fifty times. At one time or another I had most of it memorized and could quote scripture and verse with the most accomplished of theological students. And yet, what all of that got me was a head full of contradictory and incomplete data and a heart full of longing to experience the world I'd been kept and kept myself sheltered from.

Okay, take all that good, wholesome religious fervor and add an adolescence out of a Stephen King novel, enough stupid mistakes as a young adult to make Charles Manson blush (and go insane AGAIN), toss in two really bad marriages and then stir it all up with undiagnosed manic-depression. It's no wonder I wound up weighing 430+ pounds. Personally, I think I was slated to become a drug addict but the paperwork got lost and I hated seeing what it did to my older brother. Screwed up? You bet.

I asked God for help... what I got was an education that I didn't bargain for. In the last sixteen years I've experienced most of the ups and downs that life has to offer. I've become a father, been nearly killed twice, lost one wife and my kids because I was an idiot, the other wife I lost to another man and, eventually, her illness and death and I've had far too many occupations. For many years my friends jokingly called me "Job" because no matter how bad things got, they would always get worse. I clung to my faith and cried out for help always believing that if I just had enough faith it would all turn out okay. Then, one day, about ten years ago I had a profound revelation...

Shit happens.

No, really. Okay, seriously, I mean it. Actually, what I'm trying to say is that life throws things at you that no one intended. Not God, not man... no one. Life just has a way of happening. It's okay though, because I've also discovered that good exists everywhere and if you look hard enough you'll find it. I'm not trying to throw the whole "divine plan" thing out the window. I look around and I see a design. It's like one of my favorite people to quote, Mark Twain, said,

"None of us can be as great as God, but any of us can be as good."

The evil there is in the world is free to run a rampant and unrelenting charge over each and every one of us. The balance is that good has no limitations, either. Our job, as human participants in the whole affair, seems to be discriminating between the two. It's our burden in order to experience the most amazing aspect of all creation... free will. It gives us a carte blanche to be anything, anyone we choose simply at the effort of our own desire and ministrations. It doesn't mean that we aren't bound to a code of ethics. That's where the finances come in, I guess.

Take any God fearing, red-blooded man or woman and put them in a situation that is hopeless and they'll eventually find that they are tempted to look outside their own understanding and search for the divine. Man lets man down. The world is imperfect and inadequate. Ergo, there must be something else, right? Hello?!?! Is this on?

Well, that's me. I'm desperate. No, I'm not starving, homeless and, GOD FORBID, I haven't lost my internet connection. However, I'm looking at being unemployed, in the classical sense, without insurance and the debts are growing. I know that I'm blessed. Don't get me wrong. I just don't want to lose it. I don't know the hows or whys of things and I don't have the control I've always depended on. It's all going horribly pear shaped! Still, I find the good all around me. Jackie (the most blessed thing in my life), the kids (they love me even though I'm a lunatic... I hope they don't grow out of it) and the opportunity that I have to finally do what I've always wanted to do because of the support that I have from the previously mentioned prisoners, er, circus freaks, uh, victims, DAMN! What I mean is, I'm out on a wire but I feel like I've got a net. It may be an exercise in faith but, when you get down to it, what in life that's worth doing isn't? I just hope that I can start standing up on the wire more instead of spending all of my time clinging to it and mewling like a starving kitten. Only time will tell... and the blogs you people suffer through.

Now it's time for a top ten.

The Top Ten (slightly silly) Reasons To Believe In God:

10. When you look around and see all the beauty wouldn't it be nice to be able to give a little credit to someone... or blame the guilty?

9. After twenty-five years of attending church "religiously" I can sum it all up in one word... afterglow.

8. Have you ever wondered what it would take to prove that he doesn't exist?

7. (drawing again from Twain) People miss the most obvious quality that points to a creator... their laughter.

6. We're not gambling with life, here, the stakes are eternity... I'm going with the safe bet.

5. Einstein said, "When the solution is simple, God is answering." Look around and ask again.

4. You're reading this and thinking about the existence of what, nothing?

3. What if God started doubting your existence?

2. Have you seen this guy's army??? I don't want to piss Him off.

and the number one (slightly silly) reason to believe in God:

1. To err is human, to forgive divine... to point and laugh, inevitable.

F Is For Family... Right?

2004-08-28T12:15:00.000-07:00

Why don't family problems get any easier? Take three women, one very unstable, self-conscious and fairly cynical man and four (yes, I said four) cats and shove them into a small apartment. Add an extremely limited budget because of artistic endeavours, disabilities and poor money management skills in both adults. Stir in bipolar disorder(manic-depression), attention deficit disorder(ADD), social anxiety disorder, attention deficit with hyperactivity disorder(ADHD), borderline personality disorder(BPD) and sprinkle various health problems all around(argh). Now, mix in mistakes, biases, teen and pre-teen angst, old emotional wounds, temperamental artistic moodiness, more than one major life crisis per household member and dysfunctional symptoms beyond counting. You'd think that the entire Inland Empire would have been brought to it's collective knees by now. I don't think the Philadelphia Project spawned this much raw ordinance.

This morning I'm just reeling from the backlash of my inability to handle it all with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I want to be a better person, for the love of God and all that's holy! I want the wisdom of the Dalai Lama, the foresight of Nostradamus, the compassion of Mother Theresa, the level-headedness of Siddartha, the social consciousness of the Pope and the patience of Gandhi... and I want it right now, dammit!!! Every time I turn around I'm more angry than I truly should be and sharing it with everyone around me. What the hell?!?!

Let's face it. I'm inadequate. I need to be a super-human superhero. The best I can manage is to be a quasi-human with good intentions. I don't wish anyone harm... but I hurt them anyway. The Buddhists believe that life is suffering, both mental and physical. They also believe that the truest forms of happiness that exist in life are found in friendships and family. It just never occured to me that all of those traits could coexist in the same apartment.

So what do I do? Well, I'm trying to find comfort in the Taoist philosophy of Wu Wei (literally translated: "do nothing") that when you do nothing everything gets done, in it's natural fashion. It refers to the fact that in nature, what I feel is simply an example of the perfection of God's creation, things get done exactly as they were meant to get done. Here's a little excerpt from a favorite tomb, The Tao of Pooh:

"The Wu Wei principal underlying T'ai Chi Ch'üan can be understood by striking at a piece of cork floating in water. The harder you hit at it, the more it yields; the more it yields, the harder it bounces back. Without expending energy, the cork can easily wear you out. So, Wu Wei overcomes force by neutralizing it's power, rather than by adding to the conflict. With other approaches, you may fight fire with fire, but with Wu Wei, you fight fire with water."

In that vain, I have to remind myself that I'm trying too hard. I need to be... just be. That means be myself, be content with life and all it's blessings and try to remember that I'm actually very lucky because I don't deserve the things that I have.

There, I feel better.

Now it's time for a top ten, because I know that education and enlightenment are important to all of you. After all, it is the "rage of enlightenment." (Don't use that... it's been copyrighted by some think-tank in England... I checked.)

The Top Ten Philosophies That Didn't Make It:

10. Skroo Yu: based on the ancient teachings of Scottish free-loaders.

9. Qis Mai Gritz: this may actually have been started by Genghis Khan and the mongol hords but the earliest instances were recorded at a greasy diner in Arizona.

8. What Are You Lookin' At?: pugilistic in nature and started before recorded history, more recently it's practiced widely by people like Sean Penn, John McEnroe and Zsa Zsa Gabor.

7. Oohpz: the eastern mystics postulated that in every social circle there is one person who will inevitably find the most expensive thing in the room and knock it over.

6. Jhusst Schoodt Mi: inevitability in all its permutations can bring even the most robust of us to the conclusion that it's time to get medieval on your own ass.

5. Looz Ehrz: another from the eastern philosophers who studied communal living and discovered that they themselves should really get out more.

4. Mah-Succor: this is a rarely discussed off-shoot from the Islamic practice of "jihad," that literally translated means "struggle" not holy war. Mah-Succor, literally translated, means "I'm suffering from PMS and you've pissed me off."

3. Knodt Mi: from a Welsh phrase that means "know thy self" the philosophy teaches that it's okay to do anything... unless you get caught.

2. Gogh du Hel: in the anals of history there have been so few true philosophies that came out of the French Impressionist period. This one teaches that the annoying earn the right to be relocated to a warmer after-life.

and the number one philosophy that didn't make it:

1. Aye Haight Yu: practiced by the early druids and passed down through all European cultures this philosophy manifests itself amongst teenagers when asking their parents for things they obviously know they can't have.

A Few Words About Time Travel...

2004-08-25T19:44:00.000-07:00

Yeah, that last blog about my gastric bypass got a few comments, none of which were terribly complimentary. My favorite was, "Was it as uncomfortable as reading about it?" This time I'm going to go totally cerebral on you. My brain is going extra fast today. It's from strong coffee, lots of reading and doing research because Jackie was just diagnosed with Glaucoma. The most curious thing I've read in the last twenty-four hours is a novel by one of my favorite authors, Clifford D. Simak, about time travel.

How is it possible that this could work? Firstly, time isn't a form of energy, it's entropy. The fact that everything is moving. If everything in the universe stopped moving all at once, then time would, theoretically, cease to exist. Then there's the fact that even if you're standing still you're still moving. The Earth rotates on it's axis, around the sun and moves as part of the Milky Way Galaxy. The universe is always in a state of flux because of expansion... if you're an evolutionist. If you're not, then it's because God designed the universe to be ever changing. Matter and energy are in a constant transfer from one state to another. Movement is only a perception, because, it's all moving dynamically! Einstein stated that matter reaches a certain state of movement where it stretches out to infinity as it reaches the speed of light. So, in order to break that theoretical barrier it would have to change from matter into something else or cross over into another finite existencial state. Why am I rambling about all of this? Who knows? My brain runs away with things. I'm just along for the ride.

Today's top ten is one for the pioneer in us all.

The Top Ten Reasons Not To Travel In Time:

10. There isn't a therapist in the world who would help you get over being laughed at by yourself.

9. If you fail to correct a mistake you already made in the past it means that you're the biggest loser that will ever live. (wrap your cerebellum around that one)

8. Fool me once, shame on you... fool me twice, I'll erase your whole family tree.

7. I don't want to risk bumping into HG Wells.

6. How would you deal with finding out that six months from now you turn into an insurance salesman?!

5. The Butterfly Effect: a butterfly flaps it's wings in Thailand... and your ex wins the lottery, has a perfect tan and drives a convertible.

4. Most people can't follow the directions that come with a microwave... what about a time machine??? ("Hey, what does this button do?")

3. Haven't we already seen this one?

2. One version of reality is tough enough.

and the number one reason NOT to travel in time:

1. One wrong move and Gandhi becomes a dance instructor on Broadway.

A Word About Gastric Bypass.

2004-08-20T22:35:00.000-07:00

For those reading this who don't know, I had gastric bypass surgery on November 27th of 2002. I lost almost 200 pounds in just eighteen months and it's been quite a ride, so far. Talking to Jackie today I realized that it's been a bittersweet experience for me. My results aren't exactly textbook even though I reached my goal. I had a lot of conflicting information and have discovered that every person, though totally unique, should abide by a certain core set of rules. Here's a list of things I didn't know before the surgery that I really should have:

1. Every person needs a certain number of grams of animal, not vegetable, protein in order to survive... but that's only survival, not health.

2. Your body can't process the protein you ingest unless balanced properly with the carbohydrates you ingest... but it doesn't have to be in the exact same meal.

3. Calories mean energy... not fat.

4. The more meat is cooked the harder it is for your body to digest... but every type of meat has to be treated extremely differently.

5. No amount of planning or nutritional knowledge can prepare you to make the changes you need to make in your diet... unless it always takes into account your mood, current health, stress, activity level, phase of the moon, sun, Mars in retrograde...

In short, every person, situation, even meal is extremely unique. So trying to say that everything that works for one person will definitely and definitively work for someone else is pure fantasy.

What am I talking about? Well, a little before and after exercise may give you an idea.

Before the surgery I could eat an entire large pizza with several toppings. After I've been able to eat just the toppings from two slices of pizza... on a good day. Normally, that's limited to one slice. The crust will never pass my lips again.

Before the surgery I could eat two large helpings of spaghetti with meatballs. After I'm lucky if I can eat two large meatballs. It depends on if the meat was overcooked, my mood, how well I'm feeling, the spices in the meat, the phase of the moon, sun, Mars in retrograde... you get the idea. One bite too many and the meat will make a quick exit out the entry port. Not fun and worth avoiding.

Before the surgery I enjoyed going to all you can eat restaurants to try and watch the manager turn faint. Now I'm begging the same person to let me order something off the kids or seniors menu or maybe pay by the ounce. You should see the looks I get when I tell them that I can fit more food in my mouth than I can in my stomach.

Anyway, it's all been worth it because I can honestly say that I'm happier with my body than I was two years ago. I miss things like being able to chug a glass of water when I'm thirsty or simply having a slice of bread. What I don't miss is constantly knowing that my body was being destroyed by the excess that it carried. Only time will tell if I've made the best decision for my future.

The Internet In Three Quarter Time...

2004-08-19T13:54:00.000-07:00

Let's dance, shall we? I've been doing a lot of it lately. Not in the literal sense, mind you. I'm not some insane Fred Astaire frolicking around like I just drank a case of Rockstar and forced myself into an epileptic episode with a smile on my face. I've been trying to juggle problems at home (big orchestral crescendo) while acting like everything's fine in front of friends, family and occasional saps who have to listen to a grown man cry.

The problem? Let's be blunt... I have to, I have been anything but sharp lately. Hi, I'm Jodie and I'm an asshole. *big "HI JODIE" from the room* It's been a couple of weeks since my last online confession... that's what this is, you know. I get to purge my soul and you get to point and laugh as my pennance. It's the closest thing I have to clergy at the moment, so live with it.

Jackie, the most wonderful woman alive, has had to put up with my moods and lack of interest in just about anything approaching intimacy. Why? Well, I've blamed it on everything but the truth. (A-one-two-one-two-three-four) Let's start with my first excuse. I was depressed because of my situation with being put on disability recently. (side-step left) Then I tried to blame it all on changes in medications. (kick-ball-change) I also tried telling her that I am just having difficulty with being able to separate my work and home life. (slide to the right and hop) When I just couldn't admit to her or, more specifically, myself, the undeniable truth. It's a story as old as time and it smells like it hasn't had a shower in a couple of years. That's right, that horrible smell is... (orchestra hit and drop into the splits for the big finish) FEAR!!! I'm afraid. My anxiety, stress, mania and moody fits have all been over the fact that I'm scared, all the time. I can't face the things that I am so frightened of losing.

Why??? I am with the woman that I know I've been searching for my whole life. Her kids are wonderful and they love me for who I really am. I'm learning to live by my dreams and make the art I have inside of me a reality. I have more freedoms now than I've ever had in my entire life. What the hell is my problem? I'll tell you. It's because deep down I'm waiting for the hammer to fall. I feel as though I'm doomed to blow this whole thing apart, because that's what I've always done. Being in a relationship this intense is like living next to a bonfire. One foot too close and you're consumed by it. A foot the other way and you'll freeze your tail off. My problem is that I just can't seem to sit still in that sweet spot and enjoy the warmth. Instead, I back off and suffer in the cold because I feel like I'm supposed to be miserable. I've been consumed before and had to live with the disappointment of losing it all very quickly. I'm going to be happy, dammit, even if it kills me. God, I sure hope it does... really, really slowly.

Today's top ten is a testament to all of us screw-ups out there. One step at a time, one day at a time, one smashed finger at a time, we're making the world a better place... only with more safety warnings.

The Top Ten Safety Warnings For Screw-Ups:

10. Caution: Do not read this label.

9. Device is designed to be operated by someone else... put it down and walk away.

8. Please sober up, stop whining and find your glasses before touching that switch.

7. Roses are red, violets are blue, you'll be all those colors when this falls on you.

6. Warning: Your IQ is insufficient for walking erect.

5. The manufacturer has already forwarded your address and phone number to a local ambulance company.

4. If accident should occur please videotape it and send it to us so we can laugh at you.

3. Caution: for use only in bed with a champagne spritzer, a copy of the New York Times and a remote control for a TV you don't own any more.

2. Danger: Product can cause hopeless geeks to feel much cooler than they really are.

and the number one warning for screw-ups:

1. Manufacturer is not responsible for loss of confidence, impotence, major emotional issues, foot odor, tidal shift, feline migration, strip mining, lexdysia, uh, aidyslex, er, learning disabilities or marital difficulties caused by the irresponsible purchase of this product.

Blogging gone bad.

2004-08-13T10:40:00.000-07:00

I wanted so much to be able to update this blog on a daily basis. So much for good intentions. I'm home full time and I thought it meant that now I was away from my job "rehabilitating" I'd have a great deal more time to pursue my writing and photography. Well, I've been taking pictures... but only while I've been out running errands every day. It seems that everything else has become my full time job. Everywhere I look there is something that needs to be fixed, cleaned, put away, reorganized, labeled, folded... you get the idea. Being home is hard work. So, Jackie, the MOST wonderful woman alive, kindly bought me a new desk and is actively trying to get me to finish resurrecting my desktop computer, that I slightly cannabalized to fix my father's system, once and for all. Once I get that computer up and running it will be my little corner of the world. A small slice of sanctuary in a crowded apartment. Ah, bliss...

"Life is funnier when you are anxiously anticipating the punchline."
- Right Rev. Rap Masta Cornflake

So, here I am thinking about writing, photography and the age old art of making money without being hired by corporate America. So here's a twisted top ten for the blue-collar crowd... we're all in this together.

The Top Ten Reasons NOT To Kill Your Boss:

10. Orange cover-alls have NEVER been in fashion... especially in the exercise yard.

9. It's so important to show respect... without the crosshairs.

8. Because you'll simply be replacing them with someone much more annoying and demanding... that you pay.

7. No one has ever said, "Show them how you feel... with explosives."

6. It's very difficult to forward your mail to a penitentiary.

5. Stalking self-help gurus is much more satisfying.

4. At the office you get cigarette breaks... not broken for cigarettes.

3. Writing a proposal under a deadline is infinitely easier than writing a confession under guard.

2. Pictures of your ass, attached to a resignation, can be enjoyed for years.

and the number one reason NOT to kill your boss:

1. "Yes sir/ma'am" is easier to say than, "Can't we just cuddle?"

A full nest on an empty stomach.

2004-08-02T21:13:00.000-07:00

The wayward eighteen year old has come home to roost for a night. She's got to go to court tomorrow morning to deal with a problem with her driver's license. Don't ask. So with all the girls under our roof I'm considering things from a different perspective. Here's a one for parents.

The Top Ten Things You Don't Want To Hear Come Out Of A Child's Mouth:

10. (when asked about something broken) It wasn't me.

9. (referring to a myriad of commands) It's not fair!

8. (when asked about clothing they've obviously soiled) I don't have anything else to wear!

7. (when the older child is given permission) How come they get to do it?

6. (when asked if they've bathed recently) I think so, wait, no, I can't remember.

5. (from a teenager) I hear you say it all the time.

4. (when caught in the act) I didn't know I wasn't supposed to do that.

3. (if asked to do work) I don't feel good.

2. (this one is just icky) I think the cat's sick.

and the number one thing you don't want to hear come out of a child's mouth:

1. (HORROR!) Mom, I found this in your nightstand.

Just you and me against the... what the hell is that?!?!

2004-07-26T12:53:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the things that couples go through. Mostly because I'm going through them... again. So here's a top ten for all you lovers out there.

The Top Ten Rare Conditions Only Couples Contract:

10. MIF: (not Mission Impossible Force) Menstrual Irritation Factor. It's measured in the level of irritation you cause your partner once a month.

9. DASS: Dig And Scratch Syndrome. This gets worse as couples are together because guys grow more comfortable scratching places they should only touch privately.

8. WDYD: Could be "What Did You Do?!?!" but it's actually Why Don't You... Disease. A condition that forces couples to expect the same things they did to each other while they were dating.

7. IHR: I Hate Romance. This one is the cynical symptom of couples who have lost that magical spark... and found it when the fire department arrived.

6. GAFM: Get Away From Me! This can occur at any time for no particular reason.

5. WDYLT: Where Did You Learn That? This is a disorder that can be both blessing and curse. Cook something your partner has never had before, say something you told yourself you'd never repeat or, the most severe case, make the move you've in bed you've never had the courage to try and you could be either hero or villain.

4. INST: I Never Said That!!! This one is usually only contracted by men because most women have the unnerving ability to repeat conversations you had with them years ago, verbatim.

3. DTMML: Does This Make Me Look... It's a twisted trap as old as time. Why do women ask this question of a gender that yells at people on a television screen as though they can hear them? Men will smell their clothing to determine whether or not it can be worn. These same neanderthals will shove mold riddled food in your face and ask, "Does this smell like it's gone bad to you?" You trust their opinion of how an item might alter your appearance?!?!?

2. YOMH: You're On My Hair. My favorite malady because men, for centuries, have thought so much of their masculine prowess until they realize they're just ripping their partner's scalp from their head. Oh yeah, baby...

and the number one rare condition that only couples contract:

1. WTIIT: Who's Turn Is It To... a word of advice to men here... If you're asking the question, it's probably your turn. If the person you love is asking... it's still probably your turn. Just get up and do it, you knucklehead!

The agony of da happy feet...

2004-07-25T01:28:00.000-07:00

It's been a bittersweet day... and I want to get this over with quickly. Today's top ten was inspired by something Jackie thought was funny.

The Top Ten Things You Don't Want To Hear After Visiting The Gym:

1o. Did those pants fit when you came in?

9. Actually, the limp makes you look kinda sad.

8. No, I don't think the Sound Of Music soundtrack is appropriate for working out.

7. Maybe you should consider taking a shower... again.

6. The doctor will see you now.

5. I'm afraid that we need to refund the rest of your membership fee, less the damages.

4. Poor posture, lack of endurance, unhealthy breathing... maybe you should give up the porn.

3. I'm sorry sir, I thought you were just crank calling 911 from your cellphone.

2. They call them sweats, not sponges.

and the number one thing you don't want to hear after you visit the gym:

1. Sure, you look great. If you're an anemic, injured, senior citizen.

You never know what you'll do...

2004-07-23T13:36:00.000-07:00

Fast-food is going to be the downfall of western civilization. You'll just have to trust me on this. Where else can you spend $4.99 on substances that can barely be pronounced, encouraged to super-size your ability to clog your arteries at the speed of grease and also get a refill for a quarter? People are so proud of their ability to provide cheap death in a bun that they put their names all over the stuff... Wendy's, Carl's Jr., McDonald's, Tommy's, etc. It wasn't called Hitler's they just call it the Holocaust but the casualty rate wasn't nearly as high...

Top Ten Things To Do When You're Bored In A Fast-Food Restaurant:

10. Go to the counter and ask if they can "super-size something that's not on the menu."

9. Randomly ask people if they find the establishment "olfactory."

8. Wear a cape to the restaurant, jump up from your chair when you're done and run back to your car shouting, "I'll be right there!"

7. When they bring you your food ask if the "poor, defenseless animal was killed humanely or subjected to the horrors of an anonymous mass slaughter like it didn't even have a soul."

6. Ask if they offer alternatives to the "kid's meals" with appropriate toys like "Buddhist meals," "Hedonist plates," or "Sado-masochistic sack lunches."

5. Offer to "autograph" people's napkins.

4. When people try to sit at the table next to you don't look up from your meal but say, "Stop it. They can sit there if they want to. You can't make me do that."

3. Write "Official Straw Monitor" on a napkin, tuck it in your collar and pass straws out to people.

2. When the person at the counter asks if they can help you hold up four fingers and shout, "I'm this many!!"

and the number one thing to do when you're bored at a fast-food restaurant:

1. Leave an anonymous note for the manager saying, "I don't want to alarm you but I think the chair I was sitting in may actually be an exact replica of Malaysian shrine where 500 clowns lost their lives."

Top Ten Mania!

2004-07-17T02:58:00.000-07:00

Okay, so tonight I'm trying to produce two top tens because I want to start doing two a day so that I can publish. I warn you, I'm a little jaded because I've had several days to consider the fact that I'm a recently working stiff trying to compete in a world where everyone wants to be self-employed. The first is one inspired while actually laughing during a very serious conversation I was having with Jackie. Sad, but true...

The Top Ten Novelty CDs That Just Never Made It©:

10. Bodily Noises From The Motion Picture Deliverence.

9. The Cast From "Who's Company?" Sing Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits.

8. Don't You Want Me Baby by Sally Fields.

7. Lounge Songs From The Sixties by The Grateful Dead.

6. 100 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall by Various Artists.

5. Ozzy Ozbourne Mumbles Shakespeare.

4. Binging And Purging To The Hits by Calista Flockhart.

3. Music To Spasm To by Julia Louis-Dreyfus.

2. Rick James Sings About His Bitch.

and the number one novelty CD that just didn't make it:

1. Jailhouse Rock by Martha Stewart

Okay, and now for Top Ten number two...

The Top Ten Names For Celebrity Perfumes You'll Never See©:

10. Endorsement: Your name is worth more than you are.

9. Jagged Little Pill: How much can you swallow?

8. Cleavage: I'm up here... hello?!?!

7. Kids And Animals: Hollywood's not that bad... is it?

6. Danger: Put down the crack pipe.

5. Andy Warhol: "There's nothing behind it."

4. Puke: Try not to get it on you.

3. Fifteen Minutes: Save for a rainy day.

2. Purdy: A scent as fleeting as beauty.

and the number one celebrity perfume you'll never see:

1. Plastic Surgery: I'm as real as you want me to be.

RIP Ray Charles.

2004-07-17T01:59:00.000-07:00

I never met the man but I grieve his passing. I remember summer nights when I was younger being brought half to tears listening to this soul filled blind man, born in a segregated Albany, Georgia, sing, ironically, the national anthem. As a young man, Ray represented the tenacity it takes to overcome the steepest of mountains and still maintain the integrity of dreams and the ability to touch people with unbridled sincerity. What kind of man does it take to bare your soul to millions of people in the painful birthing process of creating a song? Especially when you know that your music will be criticized, scrutinized and rejected out of hand simply because people don't know how to believe that a successful black man can still have a pure talent. Ray, you set standards that will remain unchallenged for generations. Did you intend to change music? Did you intend to turn the entire musical world on it's ear with your music or did you just write a song because you enjoyed the music? God speed, Ray. You've earned your place in the celestial choir. In fact, I'm hoping that you're enjoying your new found place composing songs that bring God to tears the way yours did for me.

What are you lookin' at?!?!

2004-07-08T22:14:00.000-07:00

It's all crude mood and attitude around here lately. I live in a two bedroom apartment with three women. I ask you, wouldn't any sane man have his patience tested in the best of conditions??? Well, I just went from being a regular working stiff to being home twenty-four/seven. Hello? I love each and every one of these women, truly, but when tempers begin to fray and the monthly hormone explosion creates a shockwave that would level the crowd at a World Wrestling Federation match it's difficult not to hide behind a mask of indifference. I've been contributing my own brand of heartless comments without thinking about the sensitive ears listening. As it is, every person in this apartment has had her feelings hurt, several times, and I've said that I'm sorry more times than Oliver North. Family life can be a little hazardous... it's downright extreme when you're bipolar.

Today's top ten, therefore, is going to reflect my current situation...

The Top Ten Things To Install In A Luxury Doghouse:

10. Drool cloth dispenser.

9. High-Definition Smell-o-Vision.

8. Hot & cold running toilet water.

7. Authentic "Chase The Car" treadmill.

6. A.C.M.E. inflatable leg. (for those lonely nights at home)

5. Hydrant with infrared flush-o-matic sensor.

4. Crunchy cat crap vending machine.

3. "Just like the real thing" sun-lamp.

2. Butt-scent spray and sniff station.

and the number one thing to install in a luxury doghouse:

1. Ronco meaty bone burying oven.

What a difference a day makes.

2004-07-04T00:06:00.000-07:00

It's too true. One minute you're bitching about how stressed out you are about everything and the next you're being told by your psychiatrist that you can't go back to work... wait, that actually makes sense. This morning Jackie sat down with me and we told my psychiatrist how difficult things have been for me recently. A three and a half to four hour commute and working so far from home. So the doctor told me that he's putting me on disability for three months. Uh, okay, where the hell did that come from?!?! Yesterday I was worried about looking for a job here in the valley and today I'm on disability? Yeah, twenty-four little hours. I can't say that I'm completely relieved but I'm not nearly as worried about finding the time to take care of things. Now Jackie and I can work, in earnest on getting our home-based business things started. I've got ideas for printing and selling some of my photography. She's going to be making hemp jewelry that we'll be selling on eBay, hopefully, and maybe at some of the local "flea market" events. We are going to work very hard on getting the two cookbooks together and ready for pitching to publishing companies. I'm going to gather some editorial type material to see if I can sell some of my writing. Jackie wants me to gather a collection of my top ten lists and possibly put together a book, so you saw it here first! And amongst it all I have time to find a good job nearby. Okay, so maybe the disability won't be so bad. Hey, I worry... it's how I got in this situation in the first place.

So, in that vain, and because tomorrow is my thirty-sixth birthday, today's top ten is going to be about worrying and the art of aging... gracefully... maybe.

The Top Ten Things People Ask When They Realize They're Getting Older:

10. Do chocolate chocolate chip cookies come in decaf?

9. How many calories does sex actually burn, anyway?

8. Is a Last Will and Testament just a way of avoiding a garage sale???

7. Does this job make me look fat?

6. Do my kids need an inheritance as much as I need a red convertible?

5. Why does my laundry look like a medieval torture chamber?

4. Do these pill organizers come in a briefcase version?

3. When is it actually okay to use the words "When I was your age"?

2. How many carbs do vitamins have?

and the number one thing people ask when they realize they're getting older:

1. Is hair really fashion or just lost and found?

Do you know me? You don't know me!!!

2004-07-02T16:40:00.000-07:00

1. What time do you get up? 6:AM when I'm working, when I'm not it usually depends on how long the COMA LASTS!
2. If you could eat lunch with one person, who would it be? Jackie, because she's reading this and will kill me if I don't say her. No, seriously.
3. Gold or silver? Golver... no, sild... wait... what's the question?
4. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? What the hell is a cinema?
5. What is/are your favorite TV show(s)? Power off and staring at Jackie...
6. What did you have for breakfast? Coffee, woven wheat crackers and brie. (It's a rough life, but I don't have a stomach!)
7. Who would you hate to be stuck in a room with? Any self-help guru... throttling's too good for them.
8. What/who inspires you? Jackie, God gave her to me and she's my favorite, so there.
9. What is your middle name? Slightly-off-center... and Allen
10. Beach, City or Country? Country - fresh air, stars and wild, untamed animals... no, wait, that's the neighbours...
11. Favorite ice cream? Until recently it was peppermint, now it's no sugar added Klondike bars... cold chemical goodness
12. Butter, plain or salted popcorn? Lather and sprinkle it on, baby!
13. Favorite color? Olive green with a hint of "what is that?"
14. What kind of car do you drive? A little white piece of crap that I'm grateful for
15. Favorite sandwich? Cucumber, but I can't have bread
16. What characteristic do you despise? What characteristic... nyah, nyah, yada, yada, yada... Uh, mocking... hate it.
17. Favorite flower? Alstromeria for looks, Gardenia for fragrance and whole wheat for baking
18. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would it be? Back to DC... I wanna live in the Smithsonian...
19. What color is your bathroom? When it's clean, tan-ish... when it's not it's too hideous to open my eyes!!!!!!!!
20. Favorite brand of clothing? Geoffrey Beene, if you must know.
21. Where would you retire to? Grass Valley, CA...
22. Favorite day of the week? Payday
23. What did you do for your last birthday? *hic*
24. When is your Birthday? Monday (no, really)
25. Where were you born? Spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy, I think
26. Favorite sport to watch? Football!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go Niners! Woohoo!
27. Who do you least expect to send this back to you? (insert your name here)
28. Person you expect to send it back first? Skippy the wonder hamster
29. What fabric detergent do you use? The white, powdery one with little flecks
30. Coke or Pepsi? diet Dr. Pepper (I like being different, too)
31. Are you a morning person or a night owl? Insomniac, hello?
32. What is your shoe size? 13 wide or 14... I know, I know... Sasquatch borrows my shoes
33. Do you have any pets? 3 cats, 2 kids and one very angry dust bunny that is trying to kill me in my sleep

Usted es a veces el insecto, baby.

2004-06-30T22:37:00.000-07:00

Today reminded me of a joke I used to tell a lot...

What's the last thing that goes through a fly's mind when he hits the windshield?

His ass.

I'm also inspired to quote the great Dire Straits song "The Bug"

well it's a strange old game - you learn it slow
one step forward and it's back to go
you're standing on the throttle
you're standing on the breaks
in the groove 'til you make a mistake

(chorus)
sometimes you're the windshield
sometimes you're the bug
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're a fool in love
sometimes you're the louisville slugger
sometimes you're the ball
sometimes it all comes together baby
sometimes you're going to lose it all

you gotta know happy - you gotta know glad
because you're gonna know lonely
and you're gonna know bad
when you're rippin' and a ridin'
and you're coming on strong
you start slippin' and slidin'
and it all goes wrong because

(chorus)

one day you got the glory
one day you got none
one day you're a diamond
and then you're a stone
everything can change
in the blink of an eye
so let the good times roll
before we say goodbye, because

(chorus)

Today I'm gonna do the Top Ten Things You'd Never Want To See At Your Own Funeral:

10. A kiosk full of AOL disks. (They're everywhere!!!)

9. Pews with high speed internet access ports. (Just let it go...)

8. A one man protest group. (I want a crowd, dammit!)

7. Casket paid for by product placement. (It worked for Dale Earnhard) (I think I just earned my crowd...)

6. A bouncer enforcing a two dollar cover charge. (Instead, have a three drink minimum!)

5. Any member of Menudo. (New, old, they're all icky.)

4. IRS agents and a state trooper. (Haven't you guys got enough???)

3. Political figures I voted for. (You've disappointed me enough, go away.)

2. Religious people that normally mug you at the airport. (I'm dead, no saving me now.)

and the number one thing you'd never want to see at your own funeral:

1. Three words... Schlitz Malt Liquor! (Don't forget to spill some for me homies!)

I'm outtie! Peace!

Wowzers!

2004-06-29T17:02:00.000-07:00

I'm announcing, right here and now, that this is the ring that I want for my fiancée and me. Somehow I'll be able to get it for us. Isn't it beautiful?

Blah, blah, blog...

2004-06-28T16:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a very long weekend... starting with meeting my fiancée at the hospital on Wednesday, staying there until four in the morning to find out she's got a kidney stone, missing work on Thursday, disappointing the kids and cancelling our Disneyland trip on Friday, working on my father's computer on Saturday and spending Sunday depressed out of my skull but working up a nice anxiety attack and a huge case of "dumping syndrome" anyway.

It's my life and right now I'm at work wishing that I had a bottle of whiskey waiting at home.

Instead, I'm blessed to be able to return home to my three girls and I have to remind myself that they're the most important things in my life.

So, in order to escape without the alcohol it's time to come up with...

The Top Ten Reasons Estrogen Is Better Than Alcohol.

10. It kicks your ass and KEEPS ON KICKING!

9. No jury ever acquitted because of an "alcohol defense."

8. I only feel embarassed at the checkout stand once a month. (think about it)

7. Brawling, cursing, fits of uncontrollable rage, loud music... once a month it's a party!

6. I love you, get away from me, I love you, get away from me... schizophrenia with no cover charge.

5. I'm starting to think the cats are the only ones that actually listen to me.

4. I can't fight off the desire to drink with chocolate.

3. God is a marketing genius because men fall for the packaging every time!

2. Hey, no one ever heard of the bottle behind the man, did they?

and the number one reason that estrogen is better than alcohol is:

1. There are far fewer people attending support groups to get over it.

We do get over it, don't we? Hello? Hello?

What the...?

2004-06-23T14:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, so today's listing is all about an educational institution I need to gripe about.

I won't name any names but it's an online university that comes from the capital of Arizona. Wink, wink, nudge nudge. I can't say who it is because they are the BIGGEST client for the company I work for. Who am I kidding? They'd be ANYONE's biggest client that deals with education. The organization, as a whole, appears to be reputable and offers a lot of service to their students/clients/customers... whatever. The material they are studying is valid, granted. But when I find out that they're demanding that we take course material that we designed for a twenty to twenty-two week course at a "regular" higher learning facility and cram it into one of their five week courses I cringe. When I learn that they want their students to accelerate through the curriculum by allowing them to complete topics by answering one question correctly instead of five I'm aghast. When I get calls from these very students and they don't have the basic computer skills of a five year old child with severe learning disabilities I get very upset. Upset, hell, I'm pissed. These neophytes are getting a sub-level education, paying way too much and waving their pseudo-diplomas around like they've really accomplished something. I've got news for these knuckleheads. I've met people that got one of their "certified graduate" certificates and I've met people with bona fide diplomas in the exact same subjects. My money's on the ones that went to accredited higher learning facilities. Sure, it took them five times as long, they had to put up with underpaid, overworked professors who may not actually have "real world" experience in their chosen fields, but they seem to have a brain, common sense and the ability to avoid pissing on their own shoes. The business class students I've talked to from some schools are sometimes pushy but rarely outright rude. The students from the online circus tend to be so rude their ego needs it's own freakin' atmosphere.

Well, I could go on, and I will eventually, but it's my lunch hour and I should probably actually eat something.

One of their "diplomas" is currently being used as a trivot on my desk.

Let's contemplate our navel...

2004-06-22T13:30:00.000-07:00

No, the one on the orange. Get your fingers outta there, you weirdo!

I'm still on this spam rampage. These people are a menace. Honestly. I'm just glad that they're only wasting a few electrons and people's time. The rate at which they'd be killing trees before the advent of the internet is staggering. So, in order to get it out of my system, off my chest and into your lives I've decided I need to dedicate a top ten to them.

The Top Ten Responses To Spam:

10. Thank you for informing me of my penile inadequacy, but I'm a woman.

9. Please file my application for dating services under "lonely inmates with a photographic memory."

8. If your pharmacy needs any new suppliers I can hook you up with my cousin Fernando in Colombia.

7. Please send all copies of your software titles to the address of your local FBI office listed below.

6. My gawd!! That's the best rate ever! And you can finance people with no job, bad credit and a list of fraud charges a mile long, right?

5. Um, I love you, too... Who are you?

4. Mail System Error, huh? That's okay, I'll send it via carrier rhino, next time.

3. Thank you. You've just sent your webcam invitation to a lonely, violent sex offender with no impulse control.

2. Please send me more information on how to get rid of you.

and the number one response to spam:

1. I would like to say thank you by ordering a round of laxatives for your entire organization.

My house and home...

2004-06-21T22:38:00.000-07:00

Sitting here, at a laptop I didn't buy, on a table I didn't choose, drinking diet Dr. Pepper from a glass that I did buy... at a dollar store. This is my life. I work a nine hour day and have to be on the freeway for three and a half hours to do it. I get up at six o'clock in the morning and leave for work by seven-thirty to get home at eight and be in bed, hopefully, by eleven. Just to do it all over again...

Why?

Because this is my house (okay, apartment and it's a rental) and it's my home. I live here. The woman that lived here first invited me into her life and does things for me every day to prove to me that she loves me. The kids actually tell me they love me and they mean it. Teenagers don't tell anybody they love them unless they want something. I should know, I was a teenaqer, once, briefly... a lifetime ago.

My home, my family, my life. I accept it, I work for it and I need to appreciate it for what it is. A blessing. So tonight I'm grateful. I'm loved. I'm safe. I'm tired and I'm going to bed. My bed. That's all I need.

It just occured to me...

2004-06-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

I can use this blog to gripe about anything I want. I finally have a way to bitch about all the spam I get at home and, more especially, at work! I'm not joking, here. I have to filter THOUSANDS of junk e-mail every single day. After a normal weekend my filters caught eight thousand out of ten thousand junk e-mails. But I spent the first two hours of my day just going through the rest.

I'm telling the world at large, right now...

I don't want to gain three inches, it'll ruin my whole wardrobe.
I've no interest in lasting thirty-six hours, that would kill my fiancee.
I don't want to sign up for a dating service for horny housewives, they need marriage counseling instead.
I don't need every e-mail address in the world on one CD, I can barely keep track of my address book as it is.
I don't believe that an internet millionaire wants to share his secrets with me.
I don't believe that I can't share in the inheritance from the death of an African royal.
I'm aware that my computer may contain a virus, website information, cookies and various pastries, as well. Your product isn't needed to delete it. I know how to clear my cache, site history and use my freakin' delete key.
I don't believe I sent you an application for a damn mortgage.
No one told you that I'd be fun to talk to and should check out your pics.
I've no interest in the key to four hundred porn sites... hell, I don't even want one.
I don't want/need prescription medication for impotence, hair loss (okay, I may need that one) or pain from an offshore pharmacy that has the lowest prices.
I don't want to learn how to stop annoying e-mails from the people sending them to me.
I can't read Chinese, Korean or Russian and the German I know tells me that the guys sending all the e-mails about German tourists being murdered needs to start his own online zine and leave the rest of the news to the professionals because I don't want it in my damned inbox.
I invest poorly enough on my own (I own several shares of an investment company that I worked for) and I don't need advice from random e-mails.
No, I'm not fat anymore, but you calling me that wouldn't entice me to buy your stinking pills.
My fiancee has not informed me that she'll leave me if I don't buy your product that will magically make me a legendary love god... you lied to me and that makes me very angry. Go away.
Your software prices aren't the cheapest and I don't want to pay to have illegal pirated copies shipped from India, Korea or anywhere else overseas, thanks.
I haven't even financed the first time so I don't need to refinance, besides I get enough crap about my lousy credit from people I trust.

My final observation...

If you don't know how to spell I'M NOT BUYING ANYTHING FROM YOU!

Have a great Monday, everybody, and keep smiling!

My own Father's Day...

2004-06-20T21:18:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. I got nothing done and I enjoyed every minute of it.

My gorgeous fiancee woke me up at five o'clock this morning for a brief but very intense discussion... yeah, that's it. Then, a couple of hours later, her beautiful face was next to the bed and directly behind her the two sweet faces of her daughters. Well, our daughters. Very soon I'll be marrying into this wonderful little family and I'm adopting the girls as my own. For so many years I've been a father without my children, but now I have found a woman who wants me, needs me and loves me as much as I love her. Along with her come two incredible kids who want me, need me and love me as much as I love them. What else am I going to do but love them for the rest of my life. This year's Father's Day was the sweetest I've ever had. I hope they are all this good. The eight year old made a simple card from printer paper and crayons. It was a masterpiece. The thirteen year old made me breakfast. Because of my gastric bypass surgery I just can't eat much at one sitting. It was simply a handful of whole wheat wafers with cream cheese and half an avocado with a strong cup of coffee. Perfect.

Of course, after a sumptuous meal what's better than a mid-morning snooze. I slept until eleven, when my fiancee came back into our bedroom and we took up the same topic we were discussing early that morning. Bliss.

We then went to the store where I attempted to purchase all the things we needed to prepare a large meal for both of my parents, my mother's birthday was last week. Well, it cost more money than I expected and took longer to prepare than I wanted to spend but it was a better than average meal that everyone enjoyed. Joy

Today's top ten is all about being a Dad.

The Top Ten Things Dad's Get Out of Father's Day:

10. This card is made from 100% recycled paper... and so is your tie.

9. Happy Father's Day... Can I borrow the car?

8. Sorry Dad, I didn't know that you were allergic to shellfish.

7. Honey, are you going to actually sleep all day?

6. It's perfectly normal for a grown man to cry.

5. It tastes great, (hack) honest. No, (cough) really, there's just (gag) enough pepper, sweetie. (sneeze)

4. We even got the dog to sign your card... that's what that smell is.

3. A little turpentine, a claw hammer, some chlorine bleach and a hasp should take that right out.

2. We didn't know what your first name was so we had it engraved "Dude."

and the number one thing Dad's get out of Father's Day:

1. Baby, I'm all gift wrapped... wanna open your present?

Top Ten for the weekend.

2004-06-18T18:10:00.000-07:00

This is a regular thing for me. Whenever I think of something I start breaking it down into categories and sub-groups. Out of that is born a natural need to turn my twisted sense of humor into a list. Call it an Obsessive Compulsive Bi-Polar thing. Call it stupid. Call it Milo... I don't care. But it's my special thing and I'm going to run with it. Today's top ten is inspired by the fact that it's Friday and I've got a whole weekend of nothing important to do.

Top Ten things this dork can waste an entire weekend with:

10. You're reading it...

9. Lord of the Rings trilogy - extended edition (the kids will do Golem for a week)

8. I must resist the power of eBay!

7. Wi-Fi, baby.

6. No credit card required. (if you know what this means seek help)

5. So many deals at Fry's, so little money. sigh...

4. Where the hell are my pants???

3. I have a digital camera, half a tank of gas and it's summer in Southern CA... hmm.

2. I wonder how my Sims characters are doing.

and the number one thing this dorky dork can waste an entire weekend with:

1. Where the hell are your pants???

I'm going home. I'm sure I'll have more from the "apartment of doom."

Let the bitching begin!!!

2004-06-18T10:35:00.000-07:00

Most of the blogs that I read are just one more way for people to complain. This one isn't going to be any different. However, I tend to register my complaints from the twisted viewpoint of someone with a deep-seated need to point at the rest of the world and laugh. Otherwise I may start listening to the voices in my head and no one wants that. I feel the need to customize my new toy. More later.