Sunday, August 3, 2008
Technology No Longer Passing Me By...Word
Stop laughing at me, I know I should have started trolling the internet sooner than later, but I just realized the power and wealth of info on web 2.0 sites like Facebook and MySpace. These sites are like cyber crack...I was up until 3am the other night just looking at anyone and everyone I share a past with. Who knew? Well, besides 12 yr olds and pedophiles...at least that was my presumptive vision of such networking websites. I admit it though, it is actually quite cool. So now I too am finally fully immersed in the OO's...now that it's almost time for the 10's...oh well...my embrace of technology is now fully underway. My laptop is smoking...gotta find an extinguisher.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
The Oceans Heals Me
There is something about the solitude of hearing surf lap onto a sandy beach. When you are strewn about on a public beach at a resort packed with people, it is amazing how quickly all activity fades into the distance. Mental clarity is at its peak when you have the ability to fully relax, no stress, no to-do lists, no email, no phone, no deadlines, nothing.
The ocean is just peace, rum, and Red Stripe. Well, when you’re in Jamaica anyway. In the Bahamas it would be Kalik, or in Mexico it would be tequila and Modelo or Tecate (my personal fav)…whoa, I’m digressing to liquor again. Nonetheless the ocean is the mystic source of healing and tranquility with or without the booze. But just in case you’re wondering, the booze is a terrific co-facilitator of peace!Nah, I tease (wink wink), it is all about the ocean. I appreciate it far more as an adult than I did as an obnoxious twenty something spring breaker.
When the rigors of life mount upon an ADD brain, it tends to spin incessantly. But when my eyes affix the turquoise waters gently rolling upon pristine sand, the healing begins. I am thinking of marketing a new cult following of my own for those seeking mental clarity…hmm, let’s see…it 
will meld the philosophies of mental clarity from tantric yoga (Ohhhhmmm), the Madonna religions du jour (whatever they are this week), the Wiccan naturalists (because the Halliwell sisters are good for me), the Scientologists (because life originating from ancient aliens is THE definition of mental clarity), and the Idaho militias (we full uv mental clarity BEOTCH). It’s a brilliant scheme! I only have to 
recruit one impish celebrity and voila, instant following on the road to enlightened mental clarity. Don’t forget to sign up…we meet down at the beach!
will meld the philosophies of mental clarity from tantric yoga (Ohhhhmmm), the Madonna religions du jour (whatever they are this week), the Wiccan naturalists (because the Halliwell sisters are good for me), the Scientologists (because life originating from ancient aliens is THE definition of mental clarity), and the Idaho militias (we full uv mental clarity BEOTCH). It’s a brilliant scheme! I only have to 
recruit one impish celebrity and voila, instant following on the road to enlightened mental clarity. Don’t forget to sign up…we meet down at the beach! Eh, too much work…I’d rather dream about the ocean. Maybe I was a fish in a former life? No, better yet, a massive Great White Shark 
skimming the deep blue waters of Earth content with life underwater and a full belly of Amity residents. Maybe I should go visit the Dali Llama to find out for sure. Nah, think I’ll just relish in the memories of my tranquil days overlooking the ocean that God gave us for just such times. Can you feel me sending the oceanic healing your way? No? Oh well, my cult idea will then surely be a flop!
skimming the deep blue waters of Earth content with life underwater and a full belly of Amity residents. Maybe I should go visit the Dali Llama to find out for sure. Nah, think I’ll just relish in the memories of my tranquil days overlooking the ocean that God gave us for just such times. Can you feel me sending the oceanic healing your way? No? Oh well, my cult idea will then surely be a flop!Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Just a Swangin…
Yeah mon, we are home from Jamaica. There is no excitement in my hands as I type. Life as it returns to normal sucks compared to paradise. I was really happy to see my babies, but everything else could’ve waited another week! After 8 days of fun, sun, and rum, I’m thinking of using my liver as a doorstop. But boy was it worth it. Over the next several days and weeks you will see various posts complete with pics to chronicle our Jamaican holiday, this is not one of them. Rather it is more an epilogue or postlude, if you will, than a regurgitation of the week…an elegant prose of life and style:
We were sitting at Margaritaville at the Montego Bay airport waiting to fly home…enjoying a Cheeseburger in Paradise…when we were exposed to a glimpse of a lifestyle I have never quite seen up close in real life. They have been portrayed in film and TV and even by fiction writers. But never had I truly seen an entire gaggle (herd? posse? pack? flock?) of swingers. Not the porch grandparents or playground moms, but swingers…as in couples swapping counterparts. You know, the one’s that participate in what Ryan calls the competitive sport for the ugly?
I have visions of swingers being hot young couples that occasionally dabble in one another’s batter, but what we saw was anything but…I will spare you the details. Their annual trip to Hedonism III should sum it up pretty well. Let’s just say my vision has been shattered and in its place a new mental picture now resides. Hey I don’t judge, whatever floats their boats (or chaps) is cool with me. Damn the luck though, middle aged beatnik leftovers are not my ideal picture of swinging couples. I just hope my vision of Lipstick Lesbians doesn’t get shattered by the same reality check! Peace out mon, remember the world is full of all kinds of people…and it’s really entertaining to finally see them!
We were sitting at Margaritaville at the Montego Bay airport waiting to fly home…enjoying a Cheeseburger in Paradise…when we were exposed to a glimpse of a lifestyle I have never quite seen up close in real life. They have been portrayed in film and TV and even by fiction writers. But never had I truly seen an entire gaggle (herd? posse? pack? flock?) of swingers. Not the porch grandparents or playground moms, but swingers…as in couples swapping counterparts. You know, the one’s that participate in what Ryan calls the competitive sport for the ugly?
I have visions of swingers being hot young couples that occasionally dabble in one another’s batter, but what we saw was anything but…I will spare you the details. Their annual trip to Hedonism III should sum it up pretty well. Let’s just say my vision has been shattered and in its place a new mental picture now resides. Hey I don’t judge, whatever floats their boats (or chaps) is cool with me. Damn the luck though, middle aged beatnik leftovers are not my ideal picture of swinging couples. I just hope my vision of Lipstick Lesbians doesn’t get shattered by the same reality check! Peace out mon, remember the world is full of all kinds of people…and it’s really entertaining to finally see them!
Monday, June 9, 2008
Concentration- Out The Door!
This is a particularly difficult week for me. As most weeks are difficult in many ways, concentration is always the race leader...this week it is MIND NUMBINGLY painful. I can barely type. I can barely complete a single tiny little thought. I am doing good in the morning to put on matching shoes, who cares about the socks. I am having to clip, chain, buckle, strap, or tie anything and everything to my body to keep from losing it. I leave tomorrow for Chicago for three days upon which I return to the fulfillment of a year long wait for Jamaica. Rum. Beach. Sun. SWIM UP BAR! Sun. Beach. Rum. Did I mention NO WORK?
This week is the culmination of my year long wait. The anticipation, which has been steadily building week after week...hey look it's raining out...uh where was I? Oh yeah, steadily building pressure and this week I am so full of the anticipation I am about to explode. The next three days are going to be TORTURE! I have been practicing how to maintain for the duration of my wait. It involves a lot of head nodding, hmms, and very little spoken word. If words are required, I have trained myself to simply say one of three options depending on the situation: "I understand", "that's interesting", or "let me check it out and get back to you". Sun. Beach. Rum. Mmm vacation...
This week is the culmination of my year long wait. The anticipation, which has been steadily building week after week...hey look it's raining out...uh where was I? Oh yeah, steadily building pressure and this week I am so full of the anticipation I am about to explode. The next three days are going to be TORTURE! I have been practicing how to maintain for the duration of my wait. It involves a lot of head nodding, hmms, and very little spoken word. If words are required, I have trained myself to simply say one of three options depending on the situation: "I understand", "that's interesting", or "let me check it out and get back to you". Sun. Beach. Rum. Mmm vacation...
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Trouble Again
It tends to be a staple in our house...friends ask, are you in trouble...my standard response: "I am always in trouble, would you please be more specific?" But this past week, I knew it was trouble from the moment I uttered those words.
It started three weeks ago when I went to the mountains to Truck's cabin for a night of drink and solace which turned out to be a night of survival and scars. As the beer flowed and the confidence grew, we decided it a good idea to rummage through the rocky crests of the War Eagle River on our 4wheelers. Mental note: always heed the good advice of those older and wiser when they expel their wisdom "nothing good can come of this." They are always right.
Picture it...we are traversing through the darkness and the babbling water...I suddenly stumble upon a rock. Hmm...my wheeler seems to be high-centered. So I do the logical thing and step off...proceed to shake it about ferociously trying to dislodge it from its watery plateau.
This is where the trouble begins. As I stand in waist deep water, my wedding ring flies into the darkness with a distant splash into the water. Ohh...this cannot be good.
It slipped off like I had dipped my hands in a vat of clarified butter at a crab leg buffet!
It is a simple white gold band which has become increasingly loose on my ring finger with my fortuitous weight loss (my jubilation has been temporarily sidestepped due to my impending marital woes). It is gone. Vanished into the night and the dark water below. I might add at this point of the story the time is roughly midnight.
I begin to panic. No I take that back, I begin to freak out. The anxiety of facing my red-headed wife with the idea that I could lose my wedding band...INCONCEIVABLE! I must find it...so I must exhaust all efforts! I must search like hell to find it or face the wrath of the non-understanding gender. You see, guys like to do shit like this. Girls do not. When asked why we do shit like this our response is simply, "because it's cool". Need I say more?
They do not see it in the same way. Nuff said.
We search in vain for more than half an hour, to no avail. The shiny silver object was ner to be found even though I am subconsciously drawn to shiny objects from miles away. I give up and relent to the forces of the river. It is gone, never to be seen again!
At this point I declare a moment of peace, even so much as a moment of silence. I will just have to fess up and explain the situation. I am sure she will understand. Then reality sets in...WTF? HOW AM I GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS??
With a calm and collected outlook, I sternly proclaim the search to be over. Truck starts up his bike and speeds forward as I start my bike to proceed. Then, as if a moment of divine light has shone over the river bed, something cosmically phenomenal makes me turn and look over my shoulder. From the reflection of my friend's bike on a rock far ahead, I see the hint of a sparkle. Could it be my ever-sought shiny silver object? COULD IT BE?
It was found! Holy Lord it was found! It lie about 15 feet from the back of my bike and I knew at that point there could be no worse for me to fare!
I was wrong.
TO BE CONTINUED...
It started three weeks ago when I went to the mountains to Truck's cabin for a night of drink and solace which turned out to be a night of survival and scars. As the beer flowed and the confidence grew, we decided it a good idea to rummage through the rocky crests of the War Eagle River on our 4wheelers. Mental note: always heed the good advice of those older and wiser when they expel their wisdom "nothing good can come of this." They are always right.
Picture it...we are traversing through the darkness and the babbling water...I suddenly stumble upon a rock. Hmm...my wheeler seems to be high-centered. So I do the logical thing and step off...proceed to shake it about ferociously trying to dislodge it from its watery plateau.
This is where the trouble begins. As I stand in waist deep water, my wedding ring flies into the darkness with a distant splash into the water. Ohh...this cannot be good.
It slipped off like I had dipped my hands in a vat of clarified butter at a crab leg buffet!
It is a simple white gold band which has become increasingly loose on my ring finger with my fortuitous weight loss (my jubilation has been temporarily sidestepped due to my impending marital woes). It is gone. Vanished into the night and the dark water below. I might add at this point of the story the time is roughly midnight.
I begin to panic. No I take that back, I begin to freak out. The anxiety of facing my red-headed wife with the idea that I could lose my wedding band...INCONCEIVABLE! I must find it...so I must exhaust all efforts! I must search like hell to find it or face the wrath of the non-understanding gender. You see, guys like to do shit like this. Girls do not. When asked why we do shit like this our response is simply, "because it's cool". Need I say more?
They do not see it in the same way. Nuff said.
We search in vain for more than half an hour, to no avail. The shiny silver object was ner to be found even though I am subconsciously drawn to shiny objects from miles away. I give up and relent to the forces of the river. It is gone, never to be seen again!
At this point I declare a moment of peace, even so much as a moment of silence. I will just have to fess up and explain the situation. I am sure she will understand. Then reality sets in...WTF? HOW AM I GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS??
With a calm and collected outlook, I sternly proclaim the search to be over. Truck starts up his bike and speeds forward as I start my bike to proceed. Then, as if a moment of divine light has shone over the river bed, something cosmically phenomenal makes me turn and look over my shoulder. From the reflection of my friend's bike on a rock far ahead, I see the hint of a sparkle. Could it be my ever-sought shiny silver object? COULD IT BE?
It was found! Holy Lord it was found! It lie about 15 feet from the back of my bike and I knew at that point there could be no worse for me to fare!
I was wrong.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Internal Clock
I had to get out of bed this morning at 4:45 to catch an early flight from San Antonio to St. Louis. In typical fashion, the alarm went off, I slapped the snooze. The phone rang with my automated wake-up call. I picked up and slammed it down. Then I spent the next 20 minutes trying to find that delicate balance between dozing and concentrating on not going past my “fail safe” time to actually get out of bed. Today that time was 5:20. The ability to sleep and concentrate on the clock simultaneously is an acquired taste much like a love of scotch; however, life would be easier if I were to just get out of bed when the alarm and phone first disturb me. That would be far too simple and thus not in line with my philosophy of life.
So anyway, back to the point of this post. Once my body semi-subconsciously decides it is time to rise and face the day with one-eye open, I have no problem. The internal clock is a magical device. If only I could harness that power in everyday life. For a more practical application consider the following: You’re at happy hour with colleagues. You are strategically holding off the first break-the-seal-pee until the conversation in which you’re engaged reaches its eight minute lull (that is the proven duration of the evolution of group conversation culminating into eight minutes of chatter before going deathly silent). Finally, you slide inconspicuously from the table and manage to make it to the urinal just before the geyser of urine spews forth in spectacular fashion. Ah, the internal clock dominates.
Or better yet, you have just had Kung-Pao Shrimp from PF Changs, your absolute favorite. You have enjoyed a nice evening with your wife of 8 yrs as you casually stroll out of the aforementioned establishment for a gentle early summer stroll. Your internal clock is ticking. It’s saying, get in the car and DRIVE…NOW. You mention we should probably head home first before going to Kohl’s to return that outfit she bought last week. On the way home, the clock is beginning to chime. The internal clock senses the distance, as if it is equipped with GPS navigation. You inch closer; one mile, then ½ mile…then you turn onto Stoney Creek Dr. Your hands are poised one on the belt buckle, one on the door handle. The garage door inches open as if time has no meaning and life will go on forever. The car makes it to the driveway and without even putting in park, you spring forth and bolt to the nearest…uh…rest-stop. You laugh, but we’ve all been there. The internal clock dominates.
Part friend, part enemy, part lover, part arch-rival…the internal clock both helps and debilitates us in perfect harmony. We should all sing the praises for our brilliant evolutionary trait which sets us apart from the animals…well that and our opposable thumbs. We hate it. We love it. No matter your preference du jour, we cannot live without it.
So anyway, back to the point of this post. Once my body semi-subconsciously decides it is time to rise and face the day with one-eye open, I have no problem. The internal clock is a magical device. If only I could harness that power in everyday life. For a more practical application consider the following: You’re at happy hour with colleagues. You are strategically holding off the first break-the-seal-pee until the conversation in which you’re engaged reaches its eight minute lull (that is the proven duration of the evolution of group conversation culminating into eight minutes of chatter before going deathly silent). Finally, you slide inconspicuously from the table and manage to make it to the urinal just before the geyser of urine spews forth in spectacular fashion. Ah, the internal clock dominates.
Or better yet, you have just had Kung-Pao Shrimp from PF Changs, your absolute favorite. You have enjoyed a nice evening with your wife of 8 yrs as you casually stroll out of the aforementioned establishment for a gentle early summer stroll. Your internal clock is ticking. It’s saying, get in the car and DRIVE…NOW. You mention we should probably head home first before going to Kohl’s to return that outfit she bought last week. On the way home, the clock is beginning to chime. The internal clock senses the distance, as if it is equipped with GPS navigation. You inch closer; one mile, then ½ mile…then you turn onto Stoney Creek Dr. Your hands are poised one on the belt buckle, one on the door handle. The garage door inches open as if time has no meaning and life will go on forever. The car makes it to the driveway and without even putting in park, you spring forth and bolt to the nearest…uh…rest-stop. You laugh, but we’ve all been there. The internal clock dominates.
Part friend, part enemy, part lover, part arch-rival…the internal clock both helps and debilitates us in perfect harmony. We should all sing the praises for our brilliant evolutionary trait which sets us apart from the animals…well that and our opposable thumbs. We hate it. We love it. No matter your preference du jour, we cannot live without it.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Top 10 Sayings by a Southwest Flight Attendant
10. “ladies and gentlemen the captain has indicated our final approach into Dallas…please discontinue the use of portable electronic devices, this includes iPods, laptops, Gameboys, Blackberries, blueberries, cranberries, and strawberries…if we should see you utilizing any electronic device, we will be compelled to confiscate it…especially if its an iPod…and you like country music…”
9. “in the unlikely event we should land in a pond in west Texas, you will find a lifevest under your seat cushion”
8. “For those of you paying attention to our safety demonstrations, thank you…to those of you that didn’t, gooood lu-uck!”
7. “…if you’re flying with a child or someone acting like a child, please place the mask over your nose and mouth first then assist the child…if you’re traveling with more than one child…what were you thinking? Well, pick the one with the most potential I guess”
6. DING…“ok kids, give your seat belt a tug and your neighbor a hug, we’ve been cleared for takeoff!”
5. “we will be dimming the cabin lights, if you need additional reading light please reach up and touch the button with the picture of a light bulb to turn on your overhead light…but please note, the button with the picture of a person will not necessarily turn on your flight attendants”
4. “ladies and gentlemen we will be coming through the cabin one last time to collect any remaining service items…cups, wrappers, newspapers, spare change, watches, jewelry, savings bonds, anything you would like to discard”
3. (singing) “ we love you, you love us, we’re much faster than the bus…with a grin and a smile we’re happy as can be…marry one of us and you’ll fly free”
2. “this is a Boeing 737-300 series, so to open the emergency exit, just pull the lever, grab the bottom handle, pull towards you and chunk it out the opening…just be careful not to scratch the paint as it cuts into our profit sharing”
1. “welcome to Phoenix, where the local time is…oh I have no idea, but I’m pretty sure it’s happy hour…last one off the plane has to clean it…kidding, the time is really…wow, it really is happy hour!”
9. “in the unlikely event we should land in a pond in west Texas, you will find a lifevest under your seat cushion”
8. “For those of you paying attention to our safety demonstrations, thank you…to those of you that didn’t, gooood lu-uck!”
7. “…if you’re flying with a child or someone acting like a child, please place the mask over your nose and mouth first then assist the child…if you’re traveling with more than one child…what were you thinking? Well, pick the one with the most potential I guess”
6. DING…“ok kids, give your seat belt a tug and your neighbor a hug, we’ve been cleared for takeoff!”
5. “we will be dimming the cabin lights, if you need additional reading light please reach up and touch the button with the picture of a light bulb to turn on your overhead light…but please note, the button with the picture of a person will not necessarily turn on your flight attendants”
4. “ladies and gentlemen we will be coming through the cabin one last time to collect any remaining service items…cups, wrappers, newspapers, spare change, watches, jewelry, savings bonds, anything you would like to discard”
3. (singing) “ we love you, you love us, we’re much faster than the bus…with a grin and a smile we’re happy as can be…marry one of us and you’ll fly free”
2. “this is a Boeing 737-300 series, so to open the emergency exit, just pull the lever, grab the bottom handle, pull towards you and chunk it out the opening…just be careful not to scratch the paint as it cuts into our profit sharing”
1. “welcome to Phoenix, where the local time is…oh I have no idea, but I’m pretty sure it’s happy hour…last one off the plane has to clean it…kidding, the time is really…wow, it really is happy hour!”
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